Religion: Ozian-Hölderlinist

Ozian-is for the human imagination, the creative part of us that is also a bit of divinity. If faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen, then faith is our free passage to Oz. It is imagination that creates the things hoped for, things which we cannot see and experience with our five senses.

Hölderlinist-Friedrich Hölderlin (1770-1843) embodies the poet as vates or shaman. The spiritually gifted among us, those who bridge the gap between humanity and divinity, are few in any generation. The gift is not easy to bear, and at its must intense, cannot be sustained by even the strongest. We should be thankful for the gifts and sacrifices of those who are able to bring back and share with us divine oracles, in whatever form they come.

An Ozian-Hölderlinist seek out the divine oracles which surround us, absorbs them, and shares them with others. In doing so, the connection with divine things is renewed and continued.

RPT's Oz: Tiny Kingdoms

I have always loved tiny kingdoms, mini states which once spread over the Rhineland and British India, or the realms which reproduce by symbol the family drama of our childhood. Such a grouping of petty rulers arises when soverignty is divided, whether by policy or by weakness at the center. A Holy Roman Emperor might make a grant of Reichsfreiheit to any person or entity, thus freeing them from all liege lords save the emperor himself. A landholding, a convent, or even an individual could be reichsfrei. Pressure from Napoleon forced the 1803 Reichsdeputationshauptschluss, consolidating these somewhat, and the Congress of Vienna settled the rest down to a manageable number, all of which were swept away (except Liechtenstein) in the Revolution of 1918. In India, the maharajas arose as the Mughal Empire contracted and the East India Company expanded. They flourished under the Viceroyalty (1870s to 1947) and were swept away when the Republic of India decided that it could do without them. It is still a hobby of mine to compile lists of the rulers of these micronations. from the Gaekwars of Baroda to the Reichsfürstin (princess-abbesses) http://www.guide2womenleaders.com/womeninpower/Princess-Abbesses_2.htm

Ruth Plumly Thompson was the successor to L. Frank Baum as Royal Historian of Oz. She wrote a book a year from 1921 to 1939. Her favorite fantasy setting was the tiny kingdom, and I hope to examine some of these in the future. How did there come to be so many tiny realms in Oz? Did a strong center collapse or give away soverignty? Or did they arise independent of a central authority, and were gathered into the center as the realms of India were by the British? Oh, it doesn't really matter. For in the realm of Faerie, what is, is. We are not going there to dig archaeologically, but to enjoy ourselves thoroughly.

John R. Neill's Oz: Scalawagons

Before I leave Neill for a time, I want to examine a third example of the sentient enclosed space: the scalawagon. High up on a carrot-shaped mountain in the Quadling Country, the Wizard established a factory devoted to the creation of scalawagons. Made of red glass, with a dome on top, it blended naturally into its surroundings. Tik Tok was appointed Superintendent, with an office and a rubber mallet. The scalawagons themselves are made in a Production Room, by means of a strange and secret process, controlled by a lever. There are also many other buttons and levers. As they are created, the scalawagons come out of this room into the factory common area.

As can be seen on the book cover, the basic shape is a half-circle. There is enough open space to make one wonder about safety and protection from the weather. However, the seating is very comfortable, filled with foam rubber insulation. There are many buttons on the dashboard, the nost important of which is the LUNCH button. The vehicle, being sentient, operates by voice command. A turret on the very top protects the "brains" of the vehicle as well as (presumably) the goose-egg sized engine. The turret has a hinged lid and at the very top is a small metal cap marked "FOR PELI-CAN MOTOR FLUID." Peli-cans, sentient fuel cans, fill the scalawagon's tank with its beak. Running boards extend, so that the vehicle may function as a low flying glider. And, have no fear, these vehicles are unbreakable!

Now, to the LUNCH button. When this button is pushed, a table unfolds from the side containing exactly the food we wished for. Everyone in the car will be fed, and...the food will never run out. Models are available from spike wheel tractors to a custom made Royal Scalawagon.

The Wizard's wish was that everyone in Oz should have a free taxi. But these scalawagons have somehow obtained rudimentary sentience. They can feel panic and terror, they can flock together (like Peli-cans) and become confused, they can act in unison and park in perfect order, they can be tired and they can jump, glide, and go out on the water (thank you, Captain Salt!).

At the factory, Tik Tok's main job is to use the rubber mallet to knock sense onto the scalawagons. This helps them obey traffic rules and avoid danger. In fact, the effect of this amazing mallet on the pops was to give them intelligence, good posture, and a significant improvement in personal grooming. The houses of the Emerald City were afraid of them at first, but since Ozma welcomed them with a great party and decreed that every home should have one, they were soon accepted.

Last evening, I made a prototype of a scalawagon out of cardboard

and tape. Once I had placed the facing seats inside, I found it difficult to see where the dashboard would be placed, perhaps at the sides? I still need a small ball or marble for the eyes peeking out of the turret. The first thing I can remember making was a little voting booth for the 1968 election. I cut caricatures of Nixon, Humphrey, and Wallace out on my grandfather's news magazine. It's not very artistic, but after all these years it is still fun to make things like this.

To sum up: Neill's use of the sentient enclosed space in the scalawagon, the Emerald City houses, and the wooden whale Davy Jones strikes me as symbolic of a return to the security of the mother in early childhood. Caring, enclosing spaces that feed and protect us, giving us a warm place all our own, and operate through a magic beyond our understanding, but are nevertheless there just for us. I will not go so far as to claim that Neill's Oz is best of all, but I certainly found it the most psychologically stimulating.

John R. Neill's Oz: The House as Sentient Enclosed Space

I am still in an Ozzy mood, all started by this insightful and interesting book: The Origin of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by Michele Rubatino (available on Amazon.com). Each of the Royal Historians whom I have read so far has presented a unique view of Oz that reflects their own individual ideas and tastes. While I agree with Baum's social philosophy and would love to visit Thompson's tiny kingdoms, it is Neill's Emerald City that I want for my future home. Today I will briefly examine the housing situation there.

A new arrival in the Emerald City must find a house to make their home. This is easier said than done, because the houses have some choice in the matter. You must look for a house that wants you (Wonder City p. 69-70). And houses have strong opinions on the matter of who may nest inside them. By law (Scalawagons p. 294), they are not allowed to leave their places, though it seems that they would if they could, and indeed sometimes desire to do so. There is also a law forbidding houses to shout (WC p. 100). Most appear to be dome shaped, with a face-like front and two chimney apendages.

Once accepted, you are in for a treat. Your house will clean and decorate itself, prepare food, and set the table. The affectionate nature of the relationship is further illustrated in that houses shutter themselves when we depart and await our return with anticipation. If we stay out late (not a City custom), our bedroom will wait up for us, and presumably not be content untill we are safely settled in for the night. (WC p. 182-83, 190-91, 193, 258-59) The houses can defend themselves from 'Nome invasions, but not very well ^_^; (WC p. 193, 195-96, 202).

And personality! Wow! Houses sleep quietly, feel disgust, slam windown in anger, sneeze, listen to gossip, feel delight, and in rare circumstances (we hope!), houses can fight. (WC p. 99-107, 128, 202) Yes, fight! Wonder City chapter 10, 'The Battle of the Houses,' is a surreal twist on urban conflict, complete with flying furniture. People are accustomed enough to house fights that they know enough to hide for the duration, only emerging when the conflict has ended and the dwellings rebuild themselves and set things to right.

Curved sentient space, providing us with warm and protected interior space where we can find rest and nourishment. A sentience that has chosen us above all others as worthy to dwell within. In Neill's Wonder City, Jenny Jump finds a house which she can call her own, a firm foundation from where she can set up her Style Shop and contribute to the community of Oz. I hope there is a house in the Emerald City waiting for me.

Characters in John R. Neill's Oz

I wish we knew more about Neill's life. His family has custody of his legacy, and that is as it should be. Some elements of Neill's personality do shine through to me in the characters he created for the four Oz books that he is credited with: The Wonder City of Oz, The Scalawagons of Oz, Lucky Bucky in Oz, and The Runaway in Oz.

Jenny Jump is Neill's premiere character creation. With her red hair, green eyes, fiery temper, and willingness to help others and be a part of Oz, she is quite unforgettable. In New Jersey she is a misfit with a gift for seeing fairies. She arrives suddenly in a new place, but soon fits in due to an unexpected gift and a talent for fashion. In Jenny, I see a young John R. Neill in the 1890s, going to the big city and using his artistic talent to make a living.

Lucky Bucky is Neill's male version of the newcomer to Oz. He works for his uncle in the USA, and it is no coincidence that he encounters the "Land of Uncles" in Oz. Davy Jones, a wooden whale, is the catalyst for Bucky's "rebirth" into Oz. The boy is secure on his uncles well-run boat, but in the background lurks a fear of prison and the sound of hungry boys begging for bread. Through sheer accident of fate, Bucky Jones becomes a benefactor to the Oz community. Again, I see echoes of the strggles of a young man in the 1890s, one who reached success almost be accident, because he has a talent that he can use to escape the harsh fate of others of his generation.

Number Nine is the Munchkin boy who becomes Jenny Jump's office boy. He leaves his large family to follow the path blazed by his uncle and seek his fortune in the Emerald City. By chance he meets Jenny, and this is his making. Through her, he meets the celebrities of Oz and establishes himself there. Just as Neill become the "assistant" to L. Frank Baum and his legacy, Number Nine becomes the assistant to the great Wizard himself.

Popla the Power Plant becomes a good friend to Scraps when she runs away from her life in the Emerald City. She has to be uprooted, but has the ability to put down roots wherever she finds soil. Popla is very strong, and willing to help her friends however she can. I like Popla almost as much as Jenny because of these qualities. But Jenny reminds me so much of my grandmother that I will state unequivocally that I like her best of all.

Psychology of John R. Neill's Oz

When I hear about a book that I should avoid, I will often seek it out. In college, I asked my Chaucer professor if there were any other good works from that time period. He told me to try Gower, but stay away from Lydgate. Of course I ran right out and read Lydgate's "Troy Book."

Within the universe of Oz, there are some books that are *ahem* less esteemed than others. John R. Neill's 3 or 4 contributions seem to fall into this category, so I just had to read them. Ah! I can say that I found them wonders of surreal and psychological phantasmagoria! Well, I do have odd taste, so I won't ask anyone else to like them. Just give them a chance.

Today I want to look at some aspects of "Lucky Bucky in Oz," published in 1942. Neill uses a type of character that I find exciting and numinous---the sentient enclosed space. The living houses of "Wonder City," and the scalawagons exemplify this to a degree, but Davy Jones, the wooden whale, is the best of them. And, Davy is the vehicle for Bucky Jones' rebirth as a citizen of Oz.

Here I must pause to thank the spirit of Erich Neumann (1905-1960), pupil of Carl Jung and author of "The Origins and History of Consciousness." I discovered this work at college some 30 years ago, and whenever I encounter a story that resonates with my soul (Xenogears and Evangelion spring to mind), I get out my Neumann. Joseph Campbell is all right, Julian Jaynes is a bit loopy, so I will stick with...Lacan! No....well....*cough*

Anyway, Bucky Jones arrives inworld when he lands on a dough volcano, a "Doughminion," as it were. This mountain is an unending source of nourishment, indeed the cupboards in the back of the wooden whale are filled with its products. Such is the power of the mountain that even invading pirates are turned into bakers. Hmmm...a metaphor for....well, I'm not using Neumann's "The Great Mother: An Analysis of an Archetype" today, so we'll give that a miss.

Bucky is cast off into the sea where he meets Davy Jones. The wooden whale is monstrous and fascinating to Bucky. It overpowers and befriends him by its swift, strong actions. Davy is older than Bucky, and they share a last name. The wooden whale protects, shelters, and nourishes Bucky, as well as providing him a map to his new life in Oz and the means to follow that map. Traveling inside Davy Jones, Bucky is carried through air and water to the Emerald City. There the boy is symbolicaly reborn as the hero, in that his actions are the catalyst for the transportation of the "Doughminion" to a place where its gifts can be shared by all.

I am wading in deep here, I realize. If Davy is the Good Mother archetype, then imago-Mombi may be the Terrible Mother.... I don't want to say that this is a true interpretation of Neill's work, but Neumann-interpretation has always added a dimension to my reading.

Run-Around in Oz - Chapter 2

"The King and his Diet"

The Royal Palace of Salador stood at the north-west corner of Max-a-million Square in the heart of Koto. It was actually five large housed cobbled together with a marble facade covering the three directly facing the square, but the Frogman didn't mind that one bit. Dressed to the nines in his yellow, white, green and purple, he was ready to move among the movers and shakers. Which, observed Trot, adjusting her oversized black hair ribbon, was exactly what the palace was doing. The outer walls pitched and swayed, and the roof heaved up and down. "Why, it's like being at sea in a squall," sighed Cap'n Bill. "Oh, do come on!," called the Frogman, who was already presenting his card to the doorman.

Inside, the little party waited in the vestibule. They could not enjoy the bits of bric-a-brack strewn about as fine art because of the huge din closing about them from all sides. Trot drew closer to her old and true sailor, but the Frogman broke away, feeling himself at last in his element. "I will go exploring," he announced, coattails swishing behind him. "No!'" called Trot, "You must wait. We are guests here." "Arr, let him go," said the Cap'n. Just then, the Royal Bottlier arrived. He looked about as if confused by some awful smell. "Eheu!," he cleared his thoughts, "I was given to understand there were three of you." "Just us two, my good man," cut in Cap'n Bill. "Verrry good then. Please fol-low me." Trot giggled, for all her tension broke. "What is is?," whispered the Cap'n. "I thought he was going to say 'Walk this way' and I was going to--" "Well it's good he didn't then, I suppose."

Through the maze of doorways and passages they tracked, until they reached the common room of one of the five cobbled houses. Here, the ceiling had been cut away to create a throne room. But what a room! Swirling papers flew from their stacks as good people and animals of Salador in all stages of fashion crowded around the throne. The Royal Bottlier cut a way through with his staff, parting courtiers and ministers, members of the diet, of the army, and of the bureaucracy, all shouting and gesturing on a stage-set sprung as if from the mind of Kurt Schwitters himself. Far off in an alcove, the Cap'n thought he saw the Frogman, speaking with what appeared to be a black bear in a frock-coat with high starched collar, pince-nez perched precaruiosly on his... "Oyez, oyez!," shouted the Royal Bottlier, his voice soaring above the turbulance. "I announce the presence of the Embassy from the Emerald City and its ruler, Queen Ozma."

All voices hushed. All eyes turned to them. Trot froze, and reached for Cap'n Bill's hand, her port in the storm. "Don't be afraid of them," he whispered, "Just do what you came here to do, for Ozma's sake." So the young lady pulled herself together, and began her speech.

Later, back an the inn, the two remaining members of the embassy sat together at supper. "Who would have thought it?," said Cap'n Bill between bites. "Yes," replied Trot, finishing her Salador stew, and wishing the dessert cart would return soon. "A king with no power! A royal figure-head." "And not a very good head at that," winked the Cap'n. "Well, we shall just have to go and see the retired king then, if he has all the power here." "And what about the frogman?" "He can stay here, as he appears to be enjoying himself. Found a pond of fish just like himself." "Yes," sighed Trot, "Perhaps he will end up negotiating a treaty."

Ozzy Resources

For anyone who loves the Oz books, or is thinking of exploring them for the first time, I can think of no better resourses than these:

http://www.tor.com/blogs/2010/08/reread-all-40-books-in-the-oz-series

This is a insightful and witty commantary on all of the books included in the Famous Fourty. These blog postings are short and to the point, so you can get an idea of which of the books you would like to read, and which you might want to pass over.

http://www.pumperdink.org/BCF/Default.htm

Pumperdink is an archive containing more in depth discussion of the books. It includes books beyond the 40, as well as other works by L. Frank Baum. My only gripe is (and it's a small one)--the contributors seem to expect narrative consistency. While this is not necessarily a bad quality in a published work, in a world such as Oz, it is simply not necessary. To draw upon the model I used in my blogs on identity, Oz is a cosmos made up of many, often conflicting, bits. Each and every author who takes up the quest to "write Oz" gathers the bits that they want and excludes the bits they don't want. So what if RPT didn't use Shaggy Man? Or that John R. Neill and Jack Snow cherry pick or ignore RPT's contribution? Just pick up the bits you want and put them together! After all, if you have already succumbed to the temptation to believe you are worthy to "write Oz"...and this includes everybody who reads it, I think...then you might as well enjoy yourself and have a great visit to this marvelous land!

Run-Around in Oz - Chapter 1

"The Great Jack of Salador"

Trot and Cap'n Bill, were sent off one fine day on a diplomatic mission. Their task being to represent Ozma in her soverignty to the ruler of the newly discovered Kingdom of Salador. Since this miniature domain lay a way off down in the Winkie Country, the Frogman had been asked to assist them. So he went forth from the land of the Yips, leaving his dear wife Cayke the Cookie-Cook and their wee little tadpolings, to meet the party from the Emerald City in Koto, the capital of Salador.

When the party had gathered comfortably at the Royal Patent Inn of Koto, Cap'n Bill asked the innkeeper about local customs. "For we do not wish to look like fools," declaimed the Frogman, who had regained some of his confidence, being out of range of Cayke's rolling-pin. The innkeeper assured them that if they wished to see the king, they should apply first to the Royal Favorite Timba Limba, who was presently all-powerful with his majesty.

So after a hearty meal of sausages and salad, or what passed for salad in this realm, they had a good rest on soft, quilted matresses. In the morning they bade farewell to the kindly innkeeper, and set off to find the mansion of the king's favorite.

Aah, but the main gate of this dwelling was closed fast against them. the Favorite's doorman would not let them pass. "Let's go 'round back," said Trot, "There's bound to be a way in somewhere." "Capital idea!," boomed Cap'n Bill. So around they went, coming at last to the servants' and tradesmens' entrances. "Hmmm," mused the Frogman, "We have a Maid's Door, a Butcher's Door...all locked! ---Eureka! What's this? The Salad Door is open!" So on they went, surprising the poor cook at her work. She called for the bulter, who sighed, and took them into the receiving room.

There upon a shabby throne sat a thin, gangly fellow dressed in so many frills and lace that he looked as if his grandmother's sewing box had exploded all over him. "G-greetings, O Royal Favorite," announced Trot politely, "I come rep--" The figure on the throne shot bolt upright, as if stuck from behind with a needle. "But I'm not!", he stamped. "Not what?," asked Cap'n Bill, who was on the verge of getting angry at this rude interruption of Trot's carefully prepered speech. "Not the FAVORITE!," he blasted, "I'm the JACK, the Great Jack of Salador!" "Jack?," sprung the Frogman, ever curious about royal titles. "Let's him do the es'z'planin," cut in Cap'n Bill sternly. "Well...," said Timba Limba, appearing relieved at the chance to explain himself, "The King was told by his father, the retired king, and by his grandfather, the retired-retired king, that he must marry, and have him a queen. He didn't want one, but they made him get one anyway. So the king---our wonderful king---said, 'fine!, if I have to have a queen, then I will have a jack as well!' So he married me---his best chum---and made me his jack, the Great Jack of Salador."

Trot has listened carefully to this whole explanation. Quickly, she brought the topic of conversation back to its original purpose. "Ahem! O Royal Jack of Salvador, may we..." With a big "Harrumph" the butler cut in, "His Majesty, the Great Jack, if you please." Cap'n Bill felt his blood begin to boil again, but Trot calmed him by gently touching his hand. "Very well." she began for the third time that morning, "Your Majesty! Great Jack of Salador! May be have your permission to see His Majesty the King?" "Certainly!," came the reply. "Brave bulter! See that papers of a suitable nature are drawn up for these visitors!"

Prioritizze, dammit!

There are just too many things I want to do just now, and too many that I thought I wanted to do that still cling to me. I am reading through the Oz books...all of them I can find, anyway. Hope Shanower & Smith finish as many as they can for Marvel Comics. Ozma and Dorothy will meet this fall in Marvel's version of Ozma of Oz. I'm in the RPTs now, and to me they have their own unique charm, just as the LFBs did. I love little kingdoms with their little courts, and I wish that Germany and India were still full of them :)

Am trying to get through Proclus' On Timaeus too, but it's Thomas Taylor's almost 200 year old translation, so it is a struggle. Damascius' great work will be out this year, in a modern translation~~I hope to have better luck with that; it is a foundational work of 6th-7th century thought, I believe. I want to find the time to watch Wagner's Lohengrin again, and to finish Tannhauser at last, esp. after reading Baudelaire's essay, but when will I have the time? Watching all this anime is eating up my free time...Persona, and Toradora, then on to Spice & Wolf and...and...

Have I had enough of history? I would like to find a good home for some of my books, but not if I will be filled with regret about it 5 years from now. The church fathers can go, I have had enough of them, but am I really ready to give up on William Blake, and Tolkein? Joyce went away, and I don't miss him...well maybe just that one passage at the end of Portrait of the Artist.

Aah! Help! I have really got to set my library in order...where can I find the will power.....

Ozma and Ugu the Shoemaker

Deep in the shady sadness of a vale,
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Still as the silence round about his lair.

~Hyperion, John Keats

Ever since I read those lines more than 30 years ago, I have recognized and claimed the place of Saturn. It is far away from the "normal" world, the path of social expectations, a protected place of one's own in a world that seems at once hostile and uncaring. But a defined space that one can really belong, and be the unique person that you are. The place of an outsider, but not of self-pity. Rather, of self-definition, or the never ending attempts at such. A place not unlike the little rooms that are prepared for K in Kafka's The Castle. Rooms which are cozy and inviting, but rooms which he sadly rejects as he continues his futile search for the castle.

Ugu the Shoemaker, in L. Frank Baum's The Lost Princess of Oz, has created for himself such a saturnine space. But unlike K, Ugu does not want to leave it. He wants to strengthen it with all the magic that he can gather. But Ugu crosses a line. He begins to desire to impose his will on others. In the moment he impulsively kidnaps Ozma, his plan fails. He is not emotionally mature enough to deal with the introduction of this uncontrolable, random element into his lair.

Ugu has a great heritage in the city of Herku, his family had been users of magic for centuries. But he was cut off from this heritage, and forced to make a living as a shoemaker. We are all born with a fantastic heritage of art and literature, but life compels us to find a job, to make a living and be a productive member of society. Ugu discovers his heritage, and upon absorbing its implications, desires not to enrich his fellow citizens, but to flee and make an island unto himself.

In one night, Ugu gathers all the important magic of Oz, including one "item" not on his list, but probably the most important magical force in Oz, Ozma herself. He has planned for non-sentient magical items, what is he to do with a real magical being? He cannot deal with her, he cannot fit her in to his world-view, so he, being afraid, "disposes" of her.

At this point in the story, my imagination leapt into action. What should have Ugu done? What could have Ugu accomplished? So, for a brief time, I became a Ugu/Ozma shipper. a little three act play took shape in my mind.

Scene 1--Ugu's Study--Ugu reflects on his painful past as shoemaker, and on his recent accomplishments, obtaining the Magic Dishpan, various magic tools, Glinda's Book, and the Magic Picture. But there is also Ozma---what is he to do with her? He knows a rescue party is coming. Ozma is trapped. She sees that Ugu is a "bold and clever magician" but at this point can do nothing to oppose him. A typical Oz solution might occur to him--Ugu:"You will wash my dishes and clean my clothes!" Ozma:"Humph...I might as well be your wife!" Ugu:"AHA!"---and he goes off in the Magic Dishpan to gather a wedding party.

Scene 2--Ugu's Study--The kidnapped wedding party huddles together in fear. Carlo Luigi, the fat old Pontifex Maximus of Ev, is mopping his brow. Two inventors, William Ding XXI (whose ancestor invented the "Bill-Ding") and Arthur Q. Tillery, Esq. (who is working on a sort of tube-gun at the moment), cower behind a table. Then Ugu and Ozma enter in all their wedding finery. As the visitors gape in wonder at Ozma's beauty, Ugu lays out the situation. Carlo Luigi will perform the wedding ceremony and the two inventors will witness it. With much comic fumbling, the ceremony is performed, and the new couple withdraws from the assembled company.

Scene 3--Ugu's Study--The "guests" have been sent home and Ugu is back to work studying his magical books. But Ozma emerges in her nightgown, now strangely eager to assume her wifely duties. In fact, she just wont leave poor Ugu alone! Finally, the exasperated magician enchants his new bride into a peach and collapses on his chair.

Both in the canonical story and my frivilous contortion, Ugu cannot accept the physical manifestation of magic--Ozma--into his world view. Since he cannot come to terms with her, he is doomed to fail. There is something Jungian here, but I will not persue it. Just be careful with whom you bring into your lair.

My Birthday

Aah...here it is..my birthday again. I'm..well..old, but not that old. 30 years out of high school does seem like a long time, but only when you say it out loud. My concept of the time continuum has collapsed in a decidedly postmodern way...anything that happened before last Thursday has the feel of 100 years ago. Experiencing self has (temporarily) triumphed over remembering self..... Begone, self-defeating narratives! Ha! If it were only that easy.

Anyway, it's back to Oz for now. When I loved JRRT, I thought Oz was quite puerile. But now I feel that the very realism of Tolkeins works stifled my own creative imagination. For me his world was just too real. The Oz books are full of whimsy and contradiction, qualities that I can appreciate more now. The desire to know the exact details of the imaginary world dominated my thoughts when I explored the worlds of Middle-Earth and Dante's Commedia. Now as I explore Oz, I seek not for detail and consistency, but the experience of the moment.