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L. Frank Baum: Creator Of Oz
Since it was first introduced over a hundred years ago in the book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz , L. Frank Baum's world of Oz has become one of the most beloved creations in children's literature and film. But who was the creator?Born in 1856 in upstate New York, Baum was a classic "late bloomer" who tried acting, selling, and editing. Finally, in his late 30s he took the advice of his mother-in-law, suffragist leader Matilda Gage, and turned his attention to selling the stories he'd been telling to his sons and their friends. After a few books were published with varying success, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (originally titled The Emerald City) was released in 1900. It quickly became a bestseller and has remained so ever since.Frank Baum's myriad theatrical and entrepreneurial ventures almost bankrupted his family on several occasions, with wife Maud's business acumen providing the sole relief. But when Oz became a "traveling musical extravaganza" that earned raves across America, it created a windfall. Baum was to pen thirteen more Oz books and see the production take the stage in both Chicago and New York. Katharine M. Rogers at long last gives Baum the man and Baum the writer his due in a book Library Journal enthusiastically recommends "for all who love the marvelous land of Oz."
336 pages, Paperback
First published October 25, 2002
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Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
February 8, 2013
Interesting to me because I love Baum's OZ books (all 14 of them) and it was fun to find out about the kind of man behind these stories. However, because I love the children's stories so much, for their imagination and wonder, it was a little hard to wade through all the literary analysis of his books, characters, and ways of writing. It kind of took a little of the pure joy away, but it also made me want to read them again just to have a fun way to escape into a clever land of make-believe. It was interesting, if not a little strange, to read about all of Baum's other writings and stage productions, which were not nearly as successful as his main Oz series, but given the context of the time, were not surprising. What was most interesting of all to read about was the great relationship with his wife, who was his anchor and great love, and who dearly loved him as well. Nice to hear about a marriage that, despite troubles, thrived, grew and lasted.
September 8, 2017
Absolutely loved this book. So sensitive to the meaning behind each Oz "novel." She treats Baum as if he is an important American author - as he is but has never received that kind of recognition. Now I have to immediately go back and reread those glorious Oz books that lit up my childhood.
May 29, 2011
See my review on my book blog: http://quirkyreader.livejournal.com/2...
August 30, 2017
I am a huge Wizard of Oz fan and was curious about the guy who wrote it. The book wasn't really cohesive and I wasn't able to read it straight through (I read 2 other books before finishing it). The book starts talking about Baum's life, then the books he wrote, followed by an extensive reconstruction of the characters in the Oz books; however it's not a cohesive story. I would have liked to understand better the philosophy that drove Baum and his choices.
May 2, 2023
Rogers presents both a biography of L. Frank Baum and a critique of his varied writings. Baum was prolific, writing several (mostly fairly tale and fantasy) series under various pseudonyms. Baum was influenced by feminism and women's suffrage, theosophy (a scientific view of nature), and the equality of people and creatures. He was quite a man! Most people are only aware of t.he first Oz book, but there are actually 14 books in all
June 29, 2021
I tend to steer clear of biographies; I find them dry and dull and usually not worth the effort it takes to read them. But after finishing The Sea Fairies, my curiosity about Baum himself was piqued. Like many children, I grew up with the Oz books - Baum's, with an occasional and far inferior attempt by Ruth Plumly Thompson. (Yes, children can tell the difference. It doesn't matter the age - you know when one book is better than another.)
In recent years, I've started to build, or rebuild collections based on which books I truly want to keep on my shelves - rather than the more pretentious "this makes me look intelligent or at least well-read" instincts that I think drive a fair amount of book owners. As I weed through my books, I find that I'm consistently drawn to certain categories, many of which have always appealed to me, since the age that I'd first learned to read on my own. Baum's Oz stories have always held a special place in my heart and my imagination, and I currently have an entire shelf dedicated to him.
Before I started to read some of the non-Oz Baum books I hadn't grown up with and have purchased in more recent years, I wanted to gather a bit more information about the man behind the curtain. Why did he focus so much on female-centered stories? Why were his descriptions so lavish - from room decorations to clothing to a bit of filmy lace on a girl's gown? What was Baum like, and why did he write these books that I've always loved so dearly?
Disappointingly, a lot of the answer boils down to: money.
But of course it's more complicated than that.
Rogers writes in a clear, approachable style; although she includes a fair amount of detail, including sales figures for Baum's various publications, the paragraphs always have a narrative flow that makes them much more than a stale recitation of facts. She does get a bit repetitive in places and loops back on herself, muddying the timeline by titling her chapters with date ranges but organizing them by theme. Baum might've been simultaneously writing books and working on theatre productions, but Rogers will focus on one, then the other, introducing some confusion by attempting to arrange his life in a more orderly fashion than he'd ever managed himself.
Rather than stating the bare-bones facts of Baum's life, from start to finish, Rogers inserts her own interpretations of his thinking, motivations, etc. That makes it a much more engaging read, but I didn't always agree with her - and it also makes me wonder what bits she was leaving out, or shrewdly representing in a way that fit her arguments.
For example, Baum's sometimes blatant racism is buried in the footnotes at the very back of the book, which I carefully read through because I'm a completionist. It would be easy to miss these less favorable pieces of information about Baum's life and worldview. Some of the language Rogers uses is frankly a little suspect itself - such as praising Baum's portrayal of "noble savages" - and in the footnotes, she carefully explains away all his racism as merely a sign of the times. In one case, she says, Baum wrote a horrific editorial due to the reasonable fear for his life and safety on the frontier. Talking about wiping out another population of humans was, to Rogers, somehow defensible.
It's true that racism was (and often still is...) a daily fact of life for most white Westerners. It also appears to be true that Baum had some fairly progressive views about all people - regardless of gender, color, class, etc - being equal. That's something he wrote about in his idealized fantasy worlds, and I do agree with Rogers that the intentionally absurd hate between the blue & pink countries in Sky Island makes that one of his best books. It's still worth noting and examining his less progressive views and bits of writing, to the same level that Rogers does with Baum's feminism.
Interestingly, his grandfather-in-law was an abolitionist - which you'd think would expand his worldview, but Rogers skips over that while writing her excuses for some of his less tolerant writing.
Rogers is very heavy-handed in her insistence that Baum was, through-and-through, a feminist who fervently respected and fought for women's rights. This does appear to be true, both in his fictional depictions of women (well, girls mostly) and in the newspaper editorials that Rogers discusses in great detail in the early sections of this biography. Baum, whose mother-in-law was a prominent suffragette, argued passionately for women's right to vote, and believed that women should be free to do and be whatever they wished. He was absolutely devoted to his wife for their nearly 40 year marriage. He thoroughly respected her as a complete and independent person, rather than reducing her to his wife and the mother of his children. He also left most of the finances and practical decisions to her, since he was very, very bad at them.
Baum was, according to Rogers and the collection of reminiscences she gathered here, a soft-hearted, impractical, highly imaginative dreamer who was always optimistic, friendly, and generous with others. I'm a little bit skeptical of this rosy portrayal, because literally no one is that perfect. It's also clear that Baum Did Not Get Along with his first Oz illustrator, W.W. Denslow. Rogers admits that he frequently criticized the work of his later assigned artist, John R. Neill, whom he never got to know on a personal level, and his exchanges with his publisher show that he had a thick streak of pride and self-importance. That doesn't make him a bad person by any means, but I think it does him a bit of a disservice to try to pretend he was superhumanly good.
The bits about Denslow were very interesting, and I'm glad Rogers went into this section in a bit more detail. As a kid, I'd always wondered why the art changed so dramatically after the first Oz book. I have a particular fondness for Denslow's original depictions of the characters, but in terms of personality, intricacy, and tasteful alignment with the narrative, I found Neill the superior artist. Baum didn't agree, and he repeatedly told his publishers that Neill's art didn't match the images he had in his head.
Denslow stopped illustrating Baum's works because they had a major rift in their friendship, which destroyed their creative partnership. Denslow shared Baum's copyright on the first Oz book (Rogers didn't say what happened to his royalties when Baum went bankrupt and forfeited his), and he bitterly fought to be recognized as The Inventor of certain characters, because he illustrated them and therefore brought life to them.
Rogers sides with Baum on all counts. I'm inclined to believe Baum was the primary creative force behind this world, particularly since he wrote more than a dozen additional books in the series, with inventions that were more interesting and innovative than even the initial Scarecrow, Tinman, and Lion. But if Baum had such an immense breakup with a very dear friend, and struggled in later years to keep other business partnerships afloat, I doubt he was as Santa Claus-like as Rogers wants to make him appear.
In short, this is an entirely biased book. For a more even-handed depiction of Baum's life, I'd probably have to look elsewhere. But I might find a different rendition terribly boring.
Rogers is a capable writer, demonstrating many of the same qualities she praises Baum for: good sense, approachability, frankness, and a clear simplicity of language that keeps the pages turning at a reasonable pace. I did learn a considerable amount of new information.
One of the biggest things I'd never known was that Baum wrote under numerous pen names. He made a few forays into adult fiction - Rogers doesn't seem to think these were of much note - but also had several long-running series that he churned out alongside his Oz books. One was a set of classic boys' adventure stories, filled with action and violence and significantly more racism than the books published under his own name. Another, Aunt Jane's Nieces, was a modern series about three girls, supposedly written by a woman. Rogers mentions in passing that Baum's publishers even set up a fake female author to do interviews - after reading Baum's books to be properly informed about their contents.
I would've liked to read more anecdotes like those, but Rogers keeps turning back to Oz as Baum's most lasting achievement, and the one that interests her most.
She does spend a fair amount of time going through Baum's other career attempts: running newspapers, futilely trying to find success in the theatre, starting up a failed movie production company, etc. Baum had a lot of ambitions, and he was optimistic about being a huge success in everything he tried. Unfortunately, nearly everything he truly wanted to do turned out to be a failure. From the moment he tried to become an actor as a young man - and fell for a scam that made his family lose a bunch of money - he was obsessed with the theatre, and kept trying to return to it throughout his life. The only successful production his name was ever tied to was the first run of The Wizard of Oz, which was changed so much from his vision that it was unrecognizable. (Much like the well-known movie, which Rogers states Baum probably would've liked. I disagree. He would've loved the success and the money, but the movie ruins the story just as much as the theatre production did...which he did complain about, bitterly, until it made him enough money that he had to publicly retract his words.)
It's honestly pretty depressing to read about a man who spent his life creating things he didn't love, because the things that he was passionate about never made him any money. Realistic. But sad. Like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, he tried to end his Oz franchise numerous times, but he had to keep returning to it - writing final installments on his literal deathbed.
Rogers finds much to criticize in Baum's final Oz book, Glinda of Oz, which has always been my favorite. His last two Oz books, in my opinion, were the best. So that's another area where Rogers and I disagree.
The last few chapters of this book are mostly an immense amount of literary criticism - which made this less of a strict biography and something I honestly probably enjoyed more. Rogers goes into depth with all of the Oz books, and several of the other books that I have waiting on my shelf, so that makes me excited to try them for myself. I'm also relieved to see that The Sea Fairies didn't sell well and isn't highly regarded...that does match with my opinion of it, so it's not just that I was somehow missing its magic.
Rogers answered one of my other questions, too: Baum knew a lot about frilly, fragile, expensive items. He spent time as a general store owner, specializing in fancy goods from overseas, and traveled for years as a fine china salesman. Using those experiences, he ran a fairly successful periodical instructing businesses in how to create attractive window displays. (Which he shut down once he was making enough money writing children's books.) Baum had a good eye for beautiful things and knew how to tastefully arrange them, so it's no wonder that he could describe them so well in his fictional works.
I don't know if this would be The Definitive Baum Biography - Rogers cites so frequently from other works that I wonder how much entirely new material is covered here, and what she missed - but it's an enjoyable, well-written one that gave me a better window into the man who wrote some of my favorite books. I particularly liked the bits of background information surrounding each book, which makes me more excited to read some of his lesser-known works, like the ones about electricity and Santa Claus.
It does sound like he had a pretty happy life, despite the numerous financial setbacks. He loved his family, had a lot of friends, and adored his wife, who was his partner in every way. I definitely shed a tear at the depiction of his deathbed. I suppose it's not too bad that he never made a go of it in the theatre...sometimes the dreams you set for yourself aren't the areas you're meant to pursue. And he did something else he wanted: he made children happy, and he left an impression that will last for generations.
In recent years, I've started to build, or rebuild collections based on which books I truly want to keep on my shelves - rather than the more pretentious "this makes me look intelligent or at least well-read" instincts that I think drive a fair amount of book owners. As I weed through my books, I find that I'm consistently drawn to certain categories, many of which have always appealed to me, since the age that I'd first learned to read on my own. Baum's Oz stories have always held a special place in my heart and my imagination, and I currently have an entire shelf dedicated to him.
Before I started to read some of the non-Oz Baum books I hadn't grown up with and have purchased in more recent years, I wanted to gather a bit more information about the man behind the curtain. Why did he focus so much on female-centered stories? Why were his descriptions so lavish - from room decorations to clothing to a bit of filmy lace on a girl's gown? What was Baum like, and why did he write these books that I've always loved so dearly?
Disappointingly, a lot of the answer boils down to: money.
But of course it's more complicated than that.
Rogers writes in a clear, approachable style; although she includes a fair amount of detail, including sales figures for Baum's various publications, the paragraphs always have a narrative flow that makes them much more than a stale recitation of facts. She does get a bit repetitive in places and loops back on herself, muddying the timeline by titling her chapters with date ranges but organizing them by theme. Baum might've been simultaneously writing books and working on theatre productions, but Rogers will focus on one, then the other, introducing some confusion by attempting to arrange his life in a more orderly fashion than he'd ever managed himself.
Rather than stating the bare-bones facts of Baum's life, from start to finish, Rogers inserts her own interpretations of his thinking, motivations, etc. That makes it a much more engaging read, but I didn't always agree with her - and it also makes me wonder what bits she was leaving out, or shrewdly representing in a way that fit her arguments.
For example, Baum's sometimes blatant racism is buried in the footnotes at the very back of the book, which I carefully read through because I'm a completionist. It would be easy to miss these less favorable pieces of information about Baum's life and worldview. Some of the language Rogers uses is frankly a little suspect itself - such as praising Baum's portrayal of "noble savages" - and in the footnotes, she carefully explains away all his racism as merely a sign of the times. In one case, she says, Baum wrote a horrific editorial due to the reasonable fear for his life and safety on the frontier. Talking about wiping out another population of humans was, to Rogers, somehow defensible.
It's true that racism was (and often still is...) a daily fact of life for most white Westerners. It also appears to be true that Baum had some fairly progressive views about all people - regardless of gender, color, class, etc - being equal. That's something he wrote about in his idealized fantasy worlds, and I do agree with Rogers that the intentionally absurd hate between the blue & pink countries in Sky Island makes that one of his best books. It's still worth noting and examining his less progressive views and bits of writing, to the same level that Rogers does with Baum's feminism.
Interestingly, his grandfather-in-law was an abolitionist - which you'd think would expand his worldview, but Rogers skips over that while writing her excuses for some of his less tolerant writing.
Rogers is very heavy-handed in her insistence that Baum was, through-and-through, a feminist who fervently respected and fought for women's rights. This does appear to be true, both in his fictional depictions of women (well, girls mostly) and in the newspaper editorials that Rogers discusses in great detail in the early sections of this biography. Baum, whose mother-in-law was a prominent suffragette, argued passionately for women's right to vote, and believed that women should be free to do and be whatever they wished. He was absolutely devoted to his wife for their nearly 40 year marriage. He thoroughly respected her as a complete and independent person, rather than reducing her to his wife and the mother of his children. He also left most of the finances and practical decisions to her, since he was very, very bad at them.
Baum was, according to Rogers and the collection of reminiscences she gathered here, a soft-hearted, impractical, highly imaginative dreamer who was always optimistic, friendly, and generous with others. I'm a little bit skeptical of this rosy portrayal, because literally no one is that perfect. It's also clear that Baum Did Not Get Along with his first Oz illustrator, W.W. Denslow. Rogers admits that he frequently criticized the work of his later assigned artist, John R. Neill, whom he never got to know on a personal level, and his exchanges with his publisher show that he had a thick streak of pride and self-importance. That doesn't make him a bad person by any means, but I think it does him a bit of a disservice to try to pretend he was superhumanly good.
The bits about Denslow were very interesting, and I'm glad Rogers went into this section in a bit more detail. As a kid, I'd always wondered why the art changed so dramatically after the first Oz book. I have a particular fondness for Denslow's original depictions of the characters, but in terms of personality, intricacy, and tasteful alignment with the narrative, I found Neill the superior artist. Baum didn't agree, and he repeatedly told his publishers that Neill's art didn't match the images he had in his head.
Denslow stopped illustrating Baum's works because they had a major rift in their friendship, which destroyed their creative partnership. Denslow shared Baum's copyright on the first Oz book (Rogers didn't say what happened to his royalties when Baum went bankrupt and forfeited his), and he bitterly fought to be recognized as The Inventor of certain characters, because he illustrated them and therefore brought life to them.
Rogers sides with Baum on all counts. I'm inclined to believe Baum was the primary creative force behind this world, particularly since he wrote more than a dozen additional books in the series, with inventions that were more interesting and innovative than even the initial Scarecrow, Tinman, and Lion. But if Baum had such an immense breakup with a very dear friend, and struggled in later years to keep other business partnerships afloat, I doubt he was as Santa Claus-like as Rogers wants to make him appear.
In short, this is an entirely biased book. For a more even-handed depiction of Baum's life, I'd probably have to look elsewhere. But I might find a different rendition terribly boring.
Rogers is a capable writer, demonstrating many of the same qualities she praises Baum for: good sense, approachability, frankness, and a clear simplicity of language that keeps the pages turning at a reasonable pace. I did learn a considerable amount of new information.
One of the biggest things I'd never known was that Baum wrote under numerous pen names. He made a few forays into adult fiction - Rogers doesn't seem to think these were of much note - but also had several long-running series that he churned out alongside his Oz books. One was a set of classic boys' adventure stories, filled with action and violence and significantly more racism than the books published under his own name. Another, Aunt Jane's Nieces, was a modern series about three girls, supposedly written by a woman. Rogers mentions in passing that Baum's publishers even set up a fake female author to do interviews - after reading Baum's books to be properly informed about their contents.
I would've liked to read more anecdotes like those, but Rogers keeps turning back to Oz as Baum's most lasting achievement, and the one that interests her most.
She does spend a fair amount of time going through Baum's other career attempts: running newspapers, futilely trying to find success in the theatre, starting up a failed movie production company, etc. Baum had a lot of ambitions, and he was optimistic about being a huge success in everything he tried. Unfortunately, nearly everything he truly wanted to do turned out to be a failure. From the moment he tried to become an actor as a young man - and fell for a scam that made his family lose a bunch of money - he was obsessed with the theatre, and kept trying to return to it throughout his life. The only successful production his name was ever tied to was the first run of The Wizard of Oz, which was changed so much from his vision that it was unrecognizable. (Much like the well-known movie, which Rogers states Baum probably would've liked. I disagree. He would've loved the success and the money, but the movie ruins the story just as much as the theatre production did...which he did complain about, bitterly, until it made him enough money that he had to publicly retract his words.)
It's honestly pretty depressing to read about a man who spent his life creating things he didn't love, because the things that he was passionate about never made him any money. Realistic. But sad. Like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, he tried to end his Oz franchise numerous times, but he had to keep returning to it - writing final installments on his literal deathbed.
Rogers finds much to criticize in Baum's final Oz book, Glinda of Oz, which has always been my favorite. His last two Oz books, in my opinion, were the best. So that's another area where Rogers and I disagree.
The last few chapters of this book are mostly an immense amount of literary criticism - which made this less of a strict biography and something I honestly probably enjoyed more. Rogers goes into depth with all of the Oz books, and several of the other books that I have waiting on my shelf, so that makes me excited to try them for myself. I'm also relieved to see that The Sea Fairies didn't sell well and isn't highly regarded...that does match with my opinion of it, so it's not just that I was somehow missing its magic.
Rogers answered one of my other questions, too: Baum knew a lot about frilly, fragile, expensive items. He spent time as a general store owner, specializing in fancy goods from overseas, and traveled for years as a fine china salesman. Using those experiences, he ran a fairly successful periodical instructing businesses in how to create attractive window displays. (Which he shut down once he was making enough money writing children's books.) Baum had a good eye for beautiful things and knew how to tastefully arrange them, so it's no wonder that he could describe them so well in his fictional works.
I don't know if this would be The Definitive Baum Biography - Rogers cites so frequently from other works that I wonder how much entirely new material is covered here, and what she missed - but it's an enjoyable, well-written one that gave me a better window into the man who wrote some of my favorite books. I particularly liked the bits of background information surrounding each book, which makes me more excited to read some of his lesser-known works, like the ones about electricity and Santa Claus.
It does sound like he had a pretty happy life, despite the numerous financial setbacks. He loved his family, had a lot of friends, and adored his wife, who was his partner in every way. I definitely shed a tear at the depiction of his deathbed. I suppose it's not too bad that he never made a go of it in the theatre...sometimes the dreams you set for yourself aren't the areas you're meant to pursue. And he did something else he wanted: he made children happy, and he left an impression that will last for generations.
June 28, 2016
An engaging and detailed biography of the man who wrote the Wizard of Oz books - a man who was outgoing, gregarious, endlessly positive in outlook but apparently unsuited to any other work. It also looks at what separates his work from that of other children's authors and the influence the books have had on popular culture. A very interesting read. - BH.
January 12, 2022
In L. Frank Baum: Creator of Oz, Katharine M. Rogers combines a traditional biography with deep analyses of Baum's works, including books, poems, plays, and films. In fact, Baum wrote a staggering 55 novels, 83 short stories and at least 42 scripts, and Rogers essentially provides Cliff's Notes—plot summaries followed by analyses and conclusions—for what feels like all of them. The back-to-back reviews are overwhelming, especially when Rogers covers the latter years, when Baum is especially prolific and writing overlapping stories with similar characters and themes. But she offers smart analyses and I kept turning the pages to see where her thoughts would lead.
Baum's life story is a very American journey, migrating from 19th-century New England to the Midwest as he tries his hand at many vocations. At age 44, he lands on the career that becomes his legacy. Money troubles haunt him, initially through failed enterprise and later by spending outside his means. In 1911 he lists his assets as two suits of clothing, a five-year-old typewriter, and 11 second-hand reference books. (Fortunately, his wife Maud, a well-known feminist and suffragist, kept most family assets and incomes in her name and bank account, so when Baum files for bankruptcy, the family income remains secure.)
I'm a fan of Oz (like everybody), and Rogers' examination of that series of books is more interesting than the unfamiliar titles. Her interpretation of his works' declining quality, something any child will recognize if she reads the Oz series from start to finish, is enlightening. Frank initially adhered to self-imposed rules for children's literature: no romance, no condescending language, no helpless females; always promote life lessons and pose philosophical questions. But then Baum's first title, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900), is adapted into a wise-cracking, slapstick musical revue (1901) that widely veers from Baum's storyline. It tours for eight years and breaks box-office expectations. This financial windfall inspires Baum to eschew his earlier dictums and spend the rest of his life trying to replicate the play's success by pandering to the lowest common denominator. Many of Baum's subsequent Oz books lean less on philosophical queries and deliver romantic entanglements and helpless females. The work suffers for it. No book after The Wonderful Wizard matches its success.
In a thoroughly heartbreaking (and, sadly, very American) ending, Baum's health problems caused him debilitating pain, but he delays scheduling surgery until he earns enough to afford it. Even after receiving a new royalty payment, Baum has to ask to borrow $350 from his publisher "in order to secure a first-class doctor, nurse, and hospital room." The last words he spoke were to his wife on his deathbed and he references the desert landscape from the Oz series: "Now we can cross the Shifting Sands."
Baum's life story is a very American journey, migrating from 19th-century New England to the Midwest as he tries his hand at many vocations. At age 44, he lands on the career that becomes his legacy. Money troubles haunt him, initially through failed enterprise and later by spending outside his means. In 1911 he lists his assets as two suits of clothing, a five-year-old typewriter, and 11 second-hand reference books. (Fortunately, his wife Maud, a well-known feminist and suffragist, kept most family assets and incomes in her name and bank account, so when Baum files for bankruptcy, the family income remains secure.)
I'm a fan of Oz (like everybody), and Rogers' examination of that series of books is more interesting than the unfamiliar titles. Her interpretation of his works' declining quality, something any child will recognize if she reads the Oz series from start to finish, is enlightening. Frank initially adhered to self-imposed rules for children's literature: no romance, no condescending language, no helpless females; always promote life lessons and pose philosophical questions. But then Baum's first title, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900), is adapted into a wise-cracking, slapstick musical revue (1901) that widely veers from Baum's storyline. It tours for eight years and breaks box-office expectations. This financial windfall inspires Baum to eschew his earlier dictums and spend the rest of his life trying to replicate the play's success by pandering to the lowest common denominator. Many of Baum's subsequent Oz books lean less on philosophical queries and deliver romantic entanglements and helpless females. The work suffers for it. No book after The Wonderful Wizard matches its success.
In a thoroughly heartbreaking (and, sadly, very American) ending, Baum's health problems caused him debilitating pain, but he delays scheduling surgery until he earns enough to afford it. Even after receiving a new royalty payment, Baum has to ask to borrow $350 from his publisher "in order to secure a first-class doctor, nurse, and hospital room." The last words he spoke were to his wife on his deathbed and he references the desert landscape from the Oz series: "Now we can cross the Shifting Sands."
July 4, 2017
Interesting story about the man behind the books. Removes a bit of the sparkle when you realize his authorship is as much about making money as it is about storytelling. However, he is a man of his times. Given the financial hardships he faced he can be forgiven for worrying about money. The last three novels written from his deathbed can be forgiven for their lack of polish. The large number of different careers foreshadows the path we may be on in the gig economy of the future.
February 3, 2018
some of the stories great but the writing seem to drop a lot and hard to follow at times
March 12, 2018
Lots of wonderful history of his life is often lost behind telling the stories in all his books. It is a wonderful way to learn about him but there is definite need for more details.
October 24, 2020
For me, it got bogged down in the details of too many books.
March 3, 2021
Interesting and detailed, but for some reason it didn't grab me enough to finish it.
October 7, 2013
This is a matter-of-fact but warmly sympathetic literary biography - that is, discussing both the author and his major works - of L. Frank Baum, best known for writing the Wizard of Oz. I haven't read the other major biographies of Baum, and so can't compare this book to those. The book is most likely to be appreciated by people who want a thorough sketch of Baum's life and work either because they have a broader interest in fantasy or children's literature from the time, or they have enjoyed the many Oz books and want to know more about the author behind the stories. The figure that emerges from Rogers' account is a man gifted with a wildly inventive imagination, personally committed to women's suffrage and to theosophy, and (unfortunately) willing, time and again, to cheapen his writing in an unsuccessful effort to win popular acclaim and sell more books. Baum's happy marriage to Maud Baum saved him; her pragmatism and management of the family's finances kept Baum from financial ruin. Without glossing over Baum's shortcomings, including his tendency to hare off after money-losing theater projects, Rogers makes a good case that Baum should be highly respected as a children's writer who could build real moral commentary into his stories without condescending to his young readers.
January 25, 2026
This book was recommended to me by a professor because of an academic interest of mine. I really enjoyed it because of how actively I read the book.
Going in I had a lot of questions about the Women's Suffrage Movement and Matilda Joslyn Gage's influence on Baum, much of which the book answered. Rogers also offered up a whole breadth of information I did not know I was missing in terms of Baum's religious beliefs and their impact on his work, something I never caught as a Christian.
I also really appreciated all the information she provided on various stage shows, films, music, and other novels Baum wrote in his lifetime instead of just sticking to the Oz books. This helped me contextualize a lot of what I already knew and exposed me to some entirely new works by him as well.
This was an engaging and informative read. My only gripes are that Rogers inserted her own opinion increasingly more towards the end of the book instead of sticking just to facts, and her complete glossing over of racialized images in Baum's works despite her emphasis on his attention to other minorities. She occasionally has a tendency to hand wave and excuse when he makes non-progressive statements in general. However, this is the most complete biography of his I have read so far, and is a must read if you have any interest in Matilda Joslyn Gage's influence on the books.
Going in I had a lot of questions about the Women's Suffrage Movement and Matilda Joslyn Gage's influence on Baum, much of which the book answered. Rogers also offered up a whole breadth of information I did not know I was missing in terms of Baum's religious beliefs and their impact on his work, something I never caught as a Christian.
I also really appreciated all the information she provided on various stage shows, films, music, and other novels Baum wrote in his lifetime instead of just sticking to the Oz books. This helped me contextualize a lot of what I already knew and exposed me to some entirely new works by him as well.
This was an engaging and informative read. My only gripes are that Rogers inserted her own opinion increasingly more towards the end of the book instead of sticking just to facts, and her complete glossing over of racialized images in Baum's works despite her emphasis on his attention to other minorities. She occasionally has a tendency to hand wave and excuse when he makes non-progressive statements in general. However, this is the most complete biography of his I have read so far, and is a must read if you have any interest in Matilda Joslyn Gage's influence on the books.
December 27, 2025
I learned about Baum's marriage and family life heavily influenced his writing, as did the Columbian Exposition. It was particularly fascinating to read about his mother in law, Matilda Gage who wrote and spoke alongside Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. But, ultimately, as a book, this was a challenging mish-mash of biography and summaries of every. single. book. It was hard to jump from serious matters of the economy and publishing to the activities of the Wobble-bug. Also, the gold standard theory? Bunk.
October 27, 2011
Yes, this book was a bit pedantic, but once I found a way to read quickly, it was pretty interesting. Didn't finish it, and was not as interested in the minutiae of the later books he wrote. Liked Frank Baum, appreciated the political and sociological allegoric nature of his books that was revealed. Enjoyed the parts about his family life the best.
August 31, 2018
Rogers's biography was enlightening and thankfully very focused on his writing. Sometimes biographies end up straying into the lengthy histories of grandparents and parents before finally getting to the main subject. This is especially frustrating when one is trying to gain insight into their creative process.
http://pussreboots.com/blog/2018/comm...
http://pussreboots.com/blog/2018/comm...
April 11, 2010
Dry bio of baum.
August 5, 2011
This book was way too dry for me. I am sorry to say that I didn't even finish it. There are better biographies out there over. Baum is a fascinating person and deserved better in my opinion.
April 12, 2013
At this point, lots of this was repeat information for me, but this was a nice presentation of it and discussed the major period of his life and works.
June 3, 2013
2.5 really.
August 15, 2011
A biography should be more Biography and less Plot Summary…
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