Usually reading books about enchanted elephants, magic brooms and face-mutilating dragons would be a fantasy lover's dream. But Son of a Witch
Gregory Maguire's sequel to the wickedly enchanting Wicked lacks the wrenching excitement his first novel possessed.
Maguire has a good imagination, and he does manage to take us on a journey chock full of anticlimactic adventures that make the reader want to self-mutilate in order to feel something.
After the Wicked Witch of the West dies by the cruel hands of Dorothy and her cohorts, Liir, who might or might not be the son of the witch, sets out on his own 10-year journey to clear the witch's name and to make one for himself.
His journey, shown through flashbacks and present-day storytelling, is about finding courage, heart and brain, in the spirit of Oz. And, like the wicked witch before him, he discovers he is destined to be alone.
Everyone Liir comes into contact with depends on him, though he continues to think himself a failure. His prepubescent, self-deprecating angst is neither endearing nor does it evoke empathy or pity for Liir. He's no Holden Caulfield.
Liir's self-discovery is overdone, lacking depth and emotion. Sometimes you want Liir to fail because he believes that he will. He'll say he's worthless until his ears bleed, which might be more entertaining.
Maguire does make a few deliciously witty, scathing comments about Dorothy's incompetence; she's no hero in Oz. And her counterparts soon realize that a brain, heart and courage are more of a torture than a reward.
Despite these few exceptions to the novel, it is still left in a frantic state with too many characters, too many story lines and not enough resolution.
I'm sure there's a deep meaning in the political and religious undertones of the book somewhere; I just couldn't find it, or I refused to. It reminded me of poking my eyes out during Gulliver's Travels.
It would've been a little more tolerable if a Munchkinlander sang about the lollipop king or if Michael Jackson, circa The Wiz told Liir to ease on down the road, but alas, none of this happened. No songs, no dance, just wicked witch pride throughout. That's great if you're into propaganda - and I usually am.
Maguire doesn't lack ideas, but he lacks focus. Perhaps in a Wicked series of novels this would make more sense.
Liir is too nauseating as a lead character. He shows no hubris - an essential character flaw for any good lead character - or charm, and he's most likeable when he's in a coma.
By the end of the novel, the shock value has worn off. But it does leave me hoping there will be a Wicked trifecta, perhaps justifying the novel's inadequacies.
17
Archives
Alissa Ponchione
200511082122midsize.jpg
