Friday, March 25, 2022

Transformation with Dot and Tot: More Than Meets The Eye

             At first glance L. Frank Baum’s Dot and Tot of Merryland is the equivalent of that episode in a rewatch of a series that is rewatched for the sake of completeness but otherwise is reserved no spot in conscious memory. It is that bottle episode which justifies the argument for a shorter season – not quite organized enough to offset its blandness, nor whimsical enough to offset its lack of organization, nor clever enough to breathe life into its half-hearted mystery. It is a fifth magnitude star in the sky wherein shines the brilliant constellation of the Famous Fourteen. Nonetheless, Dot and Tot of Merryland contains structural features worth examining, if only as comparanda. Dot and Tot of Merryland is the work that follows the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although its realm would not be incorporated into the Continent of Imagination for many years. Dot’s real name is not Dorothy, but she is a Little Princess, even before her adventure. Tot’s name is not Tot, but the resemblance of the name of the lead and her mascot to Dorothy and Toto is hardly accidental. Dot is the leader, in both age and social standing; her mother has perished from some delicacy in her nature, and her father has left her in the care of a governess in the Secret Garden of his estate, while Tot’s father is the head gardener, much like the Gaffer at Bag End. It is water rather than air that bears the duo to the land of adventure, the Merryland of the title, a method which Dorothy would not use until Ozma of Oz. The entrance to adventure is narrow and almost prohibitive to adults who are children at heart, a natural category of humanity in Baum’s perception.

            There is a guardian, human despite his designation as the Watch-Dog of Merryland, but he is a Baumian guardian, comic and ineffective. He is bought off by a sweet cake, suggesting Cerberus and a descent into Hell, which completely fails to deliver. Yet, as will be revealed, the presence of a Watch-Dog in a location before the Seven Valleys is a potential misdirect, encouraging the reader (or read-to, depending on age) to remember a more Classical or Medieval katabasis than Baum’s actual intent. After an exchange between Dot and the Watch-Dog which is the typical watered-down logic of which Caroll’s Wonderland is the adult version, the duo sail into the First Valley.

            The First Valley is the Valley of Clowns, and it may be well to remember that Dot and Tot’s adventures, such as they are, take place in that sweet intermediate period between the apotropaic clowns of archaic religion and the demonic clowns of contemporary horror. The Seven Valleys of Merryland are isolated and infrequently visited, even by their own Queen. There is more contact between some of the Valleys and our world than between the Valleys themselves. Dot and Tot’s inability to steer their boat effectively renders this journey more of a fairground ride than the deliberate travel of their silver-shod predecessor. Flippityflop, the Prince of Clowns, but not the Clown Prince, welcomes the children and tells them that Clowns are indigenous – and endemic – to this Valley. The most skilled Clowns are set upon the peak of the mountain that separates this Valley of Merryland and the mundane world. From there they tumble into the world. Descent from the mountain is a favorite method of travel in Baum’s works, although this may be the only instance of a non-evil character using it; the Cast-Iron Man of The Monarch of Mo and the Roly-Rogues of Queen Zixi of Ix are not friends to the protagonists of their tales. Once a Clown is in our world, he seeks a circus, the telos of a true Clown. For there are false Clowns in this fallen world, who can be identified because they do not make children laugh. The idea of Clowns as an ethnicity could be seen as an othering tactic, and maybe even a mockery of indigenous peoples, but it could also provide positive messages. The first of these messages is that a true Clown is true to his nature, as all people should be; this message is consonant with Baum’s valorization of Dorothy and condemnation (however slight) of the Wizard. The second message, which is more mature than the first but not nearly as dark as othering, is a warning to children that people – and Clowns – are not always who they say they are, but the results of their actions will reveal their true nature. In the Valley of the Clowns, Dot and Tot encounter no women, despite Flippityflop’s mention of his father and grandfather before him. In addition to displaying Baum’s preference for Princes to Kings, even when they are King or Queens in truth, the lack of women references the traditionally male-only profession of clowning. Fortunately for the true Clowns, Merryland has a mechanism in the Third Valley whereby new Clowns might be born.

            The Second Valley is the Valley of Bonbons. The inhabitants of this Valley, unlike those of the Beautiful Valley of Mo, are entirely made of candy, as is their environment. Even before the mandatory color palette of the Quadrants of Oz, the theme of each land is overwriting its original complexity. The Candy Man, the leader of the Valley and considerably less menacing than Tony Todd, welcomes the children. Candy People, unlike Clowns, have both sexes as well as children, and as a society closer to that of the familiar world, the Candy People have black servants, licorice dolls who take care of the children of other colors; no prize will be given for guessing what the licorice children are called. The primary difference between Candy society and our world is the lack of non-candy-based sustenance, which Dot recognizes as a potential problem for permanent residency, but Tot is too hungry to care. The Candy People have no teeth and therefore have no cavities. Tot’s consumption of several fingers belonging to their host does not result in arrest, as might be anticipated, because replacement parts are easy to find. They grow in the marshmallow fields, where the licorice folk collect them for the Candy families. With that distasteful acknowledgement done, this dismemberment and replacement is yet another theme found both in The Magical Monarch of Mo and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Candy People do not die of old age, but they do eventually break into pieces that cannot be repaired. This is reminiscent of the China Country in the south of Oz, although the Merryland method of disposal is not recommended for divided china. The good and beautiful people of the Valley of Bonbons honor their deceased not with broken hearts but respectful edification in an act of what might be called “candy-balism.” Our protagonist and her charge, as visitors from what Baum called “civilized” lands, are horrified, but the Candy Man points out that there is no other sustenance in the Valley and that it is an honor among his people. The child-like logic wins over the children. Whether Baum intends this cannibalism to serve as an indictment of barbarous habits or a plea for tolerance of differences greater than that of the class distinction between the families of Dot and Tot is difficult to determine. Perhaps this consumption of the dead is a reference to Theosophist interest in Tibetan burial customs. The children’s horror at this custom is particularly hypocritical given the near-universal habit of biting off the heads of gingerbread men, leaving each as a body for a John Dough mystery. At least the inhabitants of the Valley of Bonbons do not send forth their own to be eaten – the licorice laborers in the fields of white are in poor taste already! The children must move on, Dot because she recognizes that they need actual food, and Tot because his hunger is a clear and present danger to the local population.

            Unfortunately for Tot, the Third Valley is the Valley of Babies, and babies are not food, as we learn in Ozma of Oz. The babies in question are human babies, although some of the boys might be Clowns and resolve the absence of women in that coulrophilic land. The “adults” in the Third Valley are Storks, all female and all white, but servants nonetheless to the eponymous babies. The Storks collect the baby blossoms that fall in storms from the sky and no doubt disqualify Storks with allergies. This focus on the babies rather than the Storks is understandable from the perspective of two small children, but it also reveals a gender divide between men and women – the all-male Clowns who qualify leave their Valley, but the Storks send forth others. The tone of Dot and Tot’s journey is becoming slightly darker, since the Storks are always exporting babies to forestall some sort of infantile apocalypse should there be no more room in the Valley. Is Baum, a pioneer of modern media and franchising, also a predecessor of the sordid tale of the commercialization of Cabbage Patch Kids? Are the Storks some sort of nursery rhyme Amazons? At least Dot and Tot finally receive some nourishment from the milk fountains in the Valley.

            The Fourth Valley is the Valley of the Dolls, where Dot and Tot are arrested by the wooden soldier despite his gun lacking ammunition; for the Queen of Merryland is not fond of strangers. That she has never met a non-resident of Merryland indicates that this stance is one of ignorance rather than experience. Her instructions to keep out foreigners are comical and ineffective, as the inaction of the Watch-Dog of Merryland attests, as well as her Baumian fairytale army. The wall of the city is reminiscent of China Country, and the average age of the fairyland juvenile arrest record is dropping precipitously. When Dot and Tot are brought before the Queen of Merryland, she is almost as tall as Dot. This detail is more important meta-textually than one might expect, because Dot and Tot of Merryland was the last Baum book illustrated by W. W. Denslow before his falling out with Baum over the rights to the characters of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and Baum’s prominence overshadowing him like Lee over Kirby. Denslow’s illustrations in the original show the inhabitants of Oz as possessing a similar height to Dorothy, and thus the Queen of Merryland should match the height of the protagonist. Had Dot and Tot of Merryland been a critical success, perhaps a similar dispute to that of the newspaper strips would have arisen.

            The Queen of Merryland, like other rulers of Baumian wonderlands, is isolationist, but she accepts Dot and Tot’s explanations of the Watch-Dog’s dereliction of duty; nonetheless, she intends to block up the entrance from which Dot and Tot entered – Narnia rules apply to her portals, but the Queen of Merryland is no Aslan. Since she cannot allow the children to leave and she cannot dispose of them, she adopts them as her heirs – even though she does not need any. This is the reason why the title is Dot and Tot of Merryland rather than Dot and Tot in Merryland. The adoption can seem abrupt, even for such an episodic text, until it is recalled that is an American fairytale. Naturalization is not only an American phenomenon, but it is also the explicit intention of Baum’s fairytale output, most prominently accomplished in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and its sequels. Dorothy, after all, becomes, a Princess of Oz, and several other humans from our world become citizens of Oz.

            From a narrative standpoint, this elevation both places Dot and Tot as equals in Merryland in contract to the regular world and gives them responsibility. The Queen of Merryland, as negligent a ruler as many in the Continent of Imagination, appoints Dot and Tot to be in charge of the Valley of the Dolls while she heads upstream to instruct the Watch-Dog on what to do if more potential visitors to Merryland decline to obey him. The Watch-Dog isn’t very bright, either because he is senile, or because nearly five centuries of isolation is probably not healthy for anyone’s mental state. Against her better judgment the Queen allows Dot and Tot to experience the dolls of the Valley of the Dolls at their most chaotic. One would think that the Valley of the Dolls would be alive with Doll society, but the Queen found them noisy and disruptive and therefore leaves them asleep most of the time. This could be commentary on controlling (but not eliminating) the imagination, but it also reflects, not entirely favorably, on the controlling nature of queens, princesses, and sorceresses in Baum’s writing. There are elements of Glinda and Ozma that are troubling to lovers of liberty.

            The awakened Dolls of course do not know who Princess Dot and Prince Tot are and therefore do not recognize their authority. The wand which roused the Dolls is an item of Baumian magic, very specific in its duration and operator. The rebellion of the Dolls does not end until the Return of the Queen. This brief period of authority offers Dot and Tot some perspective on what it is like to be an adult who is minding children. The next rebellion in the Baumian canon will be in the Emerald City and only slightly less absurd in its weaponry. The Queen of Merryland decides that she should complete her circuit by sailing downstream with Dot and Tot and perhaps figuring out what to do with them since the children do not really want to live in Merryland forever (take that, Peter!) nor can she feed them properly, a matter of great concern for Tot.

            The Fifth Valley is the Valley of the Pussy Cats, whose taste in what constitutes beautiful music is significantly different from that of the two children and the Queen. Mr. Felis, the leader of the Pussy Cats, welcomes the party and explains that the test of adulthood in this Valley is the ability to jump to the roof of the house where one grew up as a kitten. The loudest voices are the most beautiful ones and authorize their possessors to rule the valley. This is not a phenomenon exclusive to the internet. Yet the cats are still communal and gladly take the kittens of large litters into their own homes. Dot and Tot are much more enthusiastic about the invitation to the traditional nocturnal concert than the Queen, who has already experienced such passionate singing, and therefore the party moves on.

            The Sixth Valley is the chronically understaffed Valley of Wind-Up Toys, where both Mr. Splits, two halves of a man, just barely manages to keep the animal inhabitants of the Valley fully wound. The Queen is aware of this problem, but proposes no solution, perhaps because as a Doll she lacks her own imagination. At the very least, she could allow some of the wind-up animals to remain temporarily unwound. Mr. Split’s gimmick, other than being bifurcated like a Mangaboo, is an allegedly amusing vocal tic whereby one half starts words and the other finishes them; but the two halves are never in the same place at the same time, creating great difficulty of comprehension. Possibly the frenetic pace of Mr. Split, never able to complete a thought, represents the overwhelming busyness of adult life and its deleterious effect on concentration and community; there is no functional society in the Sixth Valley.

            The Seventh Valley, the Valley of Lost Things, is devoid of life, mundane or fantastical. It is full, however, of lost things, particularly young children’s jackets, and especially those which belonged to boys. This rings true to experience. Dot finds a doll she lost, which the Queen allows her to keep on the grounds that it is no longer lost. Dot and Tot, in contrast, are lost, because they do not know whether the last arch will take them back to our world. The Queen consents to them leaving, after which she will seal the exit from the Seventh Valley. If the Valleys beyond the Fourth represent increasing adulthood, the Seventh Valley as a particularly sanitary landfill is a stark condemnation.

            Dot and Tot exit the Seventh Valley but fall asleep before they enter our world. This event parallels the initial nap (at least on Tot’s part) before encountering the Watch-Dog. This equivalence of fairyland with a dream state, the first such instance in the Baumian canon, js supported by the deceptively half-hearted mystery of the Queen of Merryland’s name. The Queen deflects the question every time it is brought up. Why is knowing her name so important when her title is clear? For this point the doll which Dot lost and then found is critical. In the literal manner of young children, Dot had named her doll Dolly, which she ultimately decided was the name of the Queen of Merryland. If Dot was worried about her lost doll the entire journey, then the journey was not a series of episodic adventures, but rather a quest. It is the nature of a quest that the questor is changed in some way by the end, usually by being more mature than at the beginning; Dot cannot return to Narnia. It is no accident that an alternative pet name for Dorothy is Dolly, allowing Dot to find herself. This analysis is far beyond the capabilities of a small girl such a Dot. Thus Dot and Tot of Merryland is a quest narrative experienced by a questor unaware of her quest and not yet capable of the necessary abstract thinking. Baum insists on the truth of the experience by having Dot and Tot’s boat appear upstream from where it was originally moored – this should not be possible. This feature of the narrative cannot be casually dismissed because it is precisely this “over the rainbow” feature that has endeared the 1939 Wizard of Oz film to generations of Americans. Dot and Tot of Merryland is a far more substantial work than it seems at first glance.

 Final Version Composed and Performed In A Backyard June 4, 2021

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