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3.4 AVERAGE
3.4 AVERAGE
The prologue and first act are marvelous. Maguire plays with dark humor and imbues his cast of fascinating characters with a bitingly perceptive sense of self-awareness. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the events of the first half even though I knew the basic outline from the stage musical. Glinda’s character development and POV chapters were some of the most engaged I’ve ever been in a satirical fantasy novel like this. Wicked has helped me realize that I love stories that are able to self reflect, to have characters question the beliefs and societal structures in place and subsequently, paradoxically make their own universe seem both real and less real. It’s really fascinating material and Maguire is in top form for this portion of the novel.
Unfortunately, the second half is not only considerably less exciting but also much, much weaker for the strong characters who populated the first act with so much energy, humor, and thoughtfulness. I get that part of the theme of this book is how long years of decay and complacency can result in people unconsciously or consciously falling into evil, but the weak character interactions and the isolation of everybody just doesn’t make for a compelling finale. The lead in to the events of the MGM Wizard of Oz feels weak and unearned, because we are not given a clear lead in into why that series of events takes place apart from the ideological representations that Dorothy’s arrival presents. But to me, it didn’t really match up to the twisted characterizations Maguire established in the first half. It’s too bad the ending was disappointing, because I really, really loved most of this book. Maguire just didn’t stick the landing.
Unfortunately, the second half is not only considerably less exciting but also much, much weaker for the strong characters who populated the first act with so much energy, humor, and thoughtfulness. I get that part of the theme of this book is how long years of decay and complacency can result in people unconsciously or consciously falling into evil, but the weak character interactions and the isolation of everybody just doesn’t make for a compelling finale. The lead in to the events of the MGM Wizard of Oz feels weak and unearned, because we are not given a clear lead in into why that series of events takes place apart from the ideological representations that Dorothy’s arrival presents. But to me, it didn’t really match up to the twisted characterizations Maguire established in the first half. It’s too bad the ending was disappointing, because I really, really loved most of this book. Maguire just didn’t stick the landing.
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
First, here is my history with this book.
Borrowed it from a friend at age 15 shortly after it was published, and found it exciting, curious, and thoroughly novel. Got my own copy and read it again, age 18, then again at 21 when the musical came out. (One records the important things. I’ve kept a list of all the books I’ve read since 1999.)
I first saw the musical in 2008 when the tour came to Boston. I enjoyed it and liked the music, but was distracted by how different it was from the book, and generally felt it was fluffier and less substantial in its storytelling. At this point, it had been two years since I last read the book.
I saw the musical again in 2015 (now nine years since I’d read the book). With better seats and lowered expectations, I loved it wholeheartedly.
Now of course, the first movie is out, and I found myself saying things like “oh, yes, the book is a whole different thing – you can’t try to map the book onto the musical too closely” while also recognizing that I didn’t remember the book very clearly at all. When in doubt? Reread.
At 40, the book strikes me very differently, and I found the experience sad and frustrating at various points.
For being about Elphaba, Maguire holds her at arm’s length as long as he can. We get her mother’s perspective, and her father’s. We get a long, lovely section with Glinda, which is arguably the best part of the book (something Stephen Schwartz and his team clearly took note of), then some with Boq. We skip some time and then encounter her again with Fiyero. And then, after short interludes with minor characters, well into the second half, we finally find ourselves in Elphaba’s head – though even then, we keep shifting away to other characters.
By that point, we’ve seen her from so many angles that it’s hard to know what the real Elphaba is like. It doesn’t help that we’ve just jumped in time again following a major trauma – so unpicking what shifts are how she sees herself vs. how others have viewed her, and which changes resulted from trauma and time – that’s one of the frustrations.
Here’s another challenge with so many narrators: In order to continue their stories, much less those of the side characters they introduce, the same people keep popping up in section after section. As much as you want to know what happens to everyone, after a certain point, it does start to seem unlikely. I still don’t understand why we keep running into Mother Yackle, or the dwarf with the Clock of the Time Dragon – or, really, why they’re there at all.
No wonder Maguire keeps writing sequels, after he made the world so detailed. I can’t speak on them, though: I read Son of a Witch once, ages ago, didn’t like it, and haven’t picked up any of the later ones. (Through the first half of this reread, I considered continuing the series, but by this point, I'm no longer interested.)
Pacing is another challenge with this book. The early section with her parents is slow, but clearly setting groundwork. The school section takes off nicely and hums right along, as does the secret agent section. And then the book comes to a screeching halt. Then next thing you know, we’ve moved to a wagon train situation and this is where it took me two weeks to read 20 pages because travel narratives bore me completely. Much of the Kiamo Ko section feels like we’re treading water, until suddenly Dorothy shows up and we have to go through the motions of The Wizard of Oz. Then, before you know it, it’s all over.
There is something about the way both Glinda and Elphaba are written that now has a ring of '90s misogyny to me – the kind that lets women be smart and powerful, but looks with disdain on feminine-coded interests or traits. (This is obviously not contained to the 1990s, but it’s the kind of internalized nonsense I’ve tried to unlearn as an adult.)
'90s pop culture told us young women could be one of two things: you could be plain, smart, and Not Like Other Girls, or you could be pretty and airheaded. You see where Elphaba and Glinda fit in here, right? One of the lovely things about the musical is the way it plays with and discards these molds. In contrast, the book never expects you to take Glinda too seriously, even as we’re in her head, while Elphaba can take an interest in learning and politics, but it feels almost required that she must also have an extreme aversion to anything feminine. So much so, that when she becomes obsessed with the shoes near the end, it throw everybody for a loop – even herself.
At 15, the political angle of the book felt deep and dark and a little tough to follow. It’s very clear now, but still dark, and especially in these times, incredibly sad. Elphaba’s feeling that she has failed at everything she’s ever cared about is also gutting. There is never anything close to a climactic “Defying Gravity” moment. At the end, I’m left feeling let down and tired. With all Elphaba’s talent and brains and potential… what a waste.
Borrowed it from a friend at age 15 shortly after it was published, and found it exciting, curious, and thoroughly novel. Got my own copy and read it again, age 18, then again at 21 when the musical came out. (One records the important things. I’ve kept a list of all the books I’ve read since 1999.)
I first saw the musical in 2008 when the tour came to Boston. I enjoyed it and liked the music, but was distracted by how different it was from the book, and generally felt it was fluffier and less substantial in its storytelling. At this point, it had been two years since I last read the book.
I saw the musical again in 2015 (now nine years since I’d read the book). With better seats and lowered expectations, I loved it wholeheartedly.
Now of course, the first movie is out, and I found myself saying things like “oh, yes, the book is a whole different thing – you can’t try to map the book onto the musical too closely” while also recognizing that I didn’t remember the book very clearly at all. When in doubt? Reread.
At 40, the book strikes me very differently, and I found the experience sad and frustrating at various points.
For being about Elphaba, Maguire holds her at arm’s length as long as he can. We get her mother’s perspective, and her father’s. We get a long, lovely section with Glinda, which is arguably the best part of the book (something Stephen Schwartz and his team clearly took note of), then some with Boq. We skip some time and then encounter her again with Fiyero. And then, after short interludes with minor characters, well into the second half, we finally find ourselves in Elphaba’s head – though even then, we keep shifting away to other characters.
By that point, we’ve seen her from so many angles that it’s hard to know what the real Elphaba is like. It doesn’t help that we’ve just jumped in time again following a major trauma – so unpicking what shifts are how she sees herself vs. how others have viewed her, and which changes resulted from trauma and time – that’s one of the frustrations.
Here’s another challenge with so many narrators: In order to continue their stories, much less those of the side characters they introduce, the same people keep popping up in section after section. As much as you want to know what happens to everyone, after a certain point, it does start to seem unlikely. I still don’t understand why we keep running into Mother Yackle, or the dwarf with the Clock of the Time Dragon – or, really, why they’re there at all.
No wonder Maguire keeps writing sequels, after he made the world so detailed. I can’t speak on them, though: I read Son of a Witch once, ages ago, didn’t like it, and haven’t picked up any of the later ones. (Through the first half of this reread, I considered continuing the series, but by this point, I'm no longer interested.)
Pacing is another challenge with this book. The early section with her parents is slow, but clearly setting groundwork. The school section takes off nicely and hums right along, as does the secret agent section. And then the book comes to a screeching halt. Then next thing you know, we’ve moved to a wagon train situation and this is where it took me two weeks to read 20 pages because travel narratives bore me completely. Much of the Kiamo Ko section feels like we’re treading water, until suddenly Dorothy shows up and we have to go through the motions of The Wizard of Oz. Then, before you know it, it’s all over.
There is something about the way both Glinda and Elphaba are written that now has a ring of '90s misogyny to me – the kind that lets women be smart and powerful, but looks with disdain on feminine-coded interests or traits. (This is obviously not contained to the 1990s, but it’s the kind of internalized nonsense I’ve tried to unlearn as an adult.)
'90s pop culture told us young women could be one of two things: you could be plain, smart, and Not Like Other Girls, or you could be pretty and airheaded. You see where Elphaba and Glinda fit in here, right? One of the lovely things about the musical is the way it plays with and discards these molds. In contrast, the book never expects you to take Glinda too seriously, even as we’re in her head, while Elphaba can take an interest in learning and politics, but it feels almost required that she must also have an extreme aversion to anything feminine. So much so, that when she becomes obsessed with the shoes near the end, it throw everybody for a loop – even herself.
At 15, the political angle of the book felt deep and dark and a little tough to follow. It’s very clear now, but still dark, and especially in these times, incredibly sad. Elphaba’s feeling that she has failed at everything she’s ever cared about is also gutting. There is never anything close to a climactic “Defying Gravity” moment. At the end, I’m left feeling let down and tired. With all Elphaba’s talent and brains and potential… what a waste.
adventurous
dark
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
medium-paced
I read the book when I knew I was going to see the West End show, however, it's fair to say I was disappointed. It was so wrapped up in the politics of Oz, and other underlying characters that weren't really significant that I lost interested. I made myself a vow that I will always finish a book, because the author has obviously put a lot of work in to it, but I really struggled with this one. The main character of Elphaba I found hard to sympathise with as well, in fact most of the characters were unlikeable.
adventurous
dark
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
adventurous
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This book is nothing like the musical or film. There is WAY more sex than I thought there could be, or how dark this could be as a source material and inspiration for other works.
