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L. Frank Baum's timeless classic The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was the rst uniquely American fairy tale. A combination of enchanting fantasy and piercing social commentary, this remarkable story has entertained and beguiled readers of all ages since it was rst published in 1900. Ray Bradbury writes in his Introduction, " Both [Baum and Shakespeare] lived inside their heads with a mind gone wild with wanting, wishing, hoping, shaping, dreaming, " and it is this same hunger that makes all of us continue to seek out the story of Oz-- and be nourished by it.This Modern Library Paperback Classic is set from the text of the de nitive rst edition and includes the New York Times review of that edition as well as the original Preface by the author.

Tabla de contenidos provista por Syndetics

• Introduction(p. 9)
• The Cyclone(p. 11)
• The Council with The Munchkins(p. 16)
• How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow(p. 23)
• The Road Through the Forest(p. 30)
• The Rescue of the Tin Woodman(p. 35)
• The Cowardly Lion(p. 42)
• The Journey to The Great Oz(p. 48)
• The Deadly Poppy Field(p. 55)
• The Queen of the Field Mice(p. 63)
• The Guardian of the Gates(p. 69)
• The Wonderful Emerald City of Oz(p. 76)
• The Search for the Wicked Witch(p. 89)
• How the Four were Reunited(p. 102)
• The Winged Monkeys(p. 106)
• The Discovery of Oz the Terrible(p. 113)
• The Magic Art of the Great Humbug(p. 122)
• How the Balloon was Launched(p. 126)
• Away to the South(p. 130)
• Attacked by the Fighting Trees(p. 134)
• The Dainty China Country(p. 139)
• The Lion Becomes the King of Beasts(p. 144)
• The Country of the Quadlings(p. 148)
• The Good Witch Grants Dorothy's Wish(p. 152)
• Home Again(p. 158)

Extracto provisto por Syndetics

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz By L. Frank Baum HarperCollins Publishers ISBN: 9780688069445 Chapter 1 Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's wife. Their house was small, for the lumber to build it had to be carried by wagon many miles. There were four walls, a floor and a roof, which made one room; and this room contained a rusty looking cooking stove, a cupboard for the dishes, a table, three or four chairs, and the beds. Uncle Henry and Aunt Em had a big bed in one corner, and Dorothy a little bed in another corner. There was no garret at all, and no cellar-except a small hole, dug in the ground, called a cyclone cellar, where the family could go in case one of those great whirlwinds arose, mighty enough to crush any building in its path. It was reached by a trap-door in the middle of the floor, from which a ladder led down into the small, dark hole. When Dorothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could see nothing but the great gray prairie on every side. Not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached the edge of the sky in all directions. The sun had baked the plowed land into a gray mass, with little cracks running through it. Even the grass was not green, for the sun had burned the tops of the long blades until they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere. Once the house had been painted, but the sun blistered the paint and the rains washed it away, and now the house was as dull and gray as everything else. When Aunt Em came there to live she was a young, pretty wife. The sun and wind had changed her, too. They had taken the sparkle from her eyes and left them a sober gray; they had taken the red from her cheeks and lips, and they were gray also. She was thin and gaunt, and never smiled, now. When Dorothy, who was an orphan, first came to her, Aunt Em had been so startled by the child's laughter that she would scream and press her hand upon her heart whenever Dorothy's merry voice reached her ears; and she still looked at the little girl with wonder that she could find anything to laugh at. Uncle Henry never laughed. He worked hard from morning till night and did not know what joy was. He was gray also, from his long beard to his rough boots, and he looked stern and solemn, and rarely spoke. It was Toto that made Dorothy laugh, and saved her from growing as gray as her other surroundings. Toto was not gray; he was a little black dog, with long, silky hair and small black eyes that twinkled merrily on either side of his funny, wee nose. Toto played all day long, and Dorothy played with him, and loved him dearly. To-day, however, they were not playing. Uncle Henry sat upon the door-step and looked anxiously at the sky, which was even grayer than usual. Dorothy stood in the door with Toto in her arms, and looked at the sky too. Aunt Em was washing the dishes. From the far north they heard a low wail of the wind, and Uncle Henry and Dorothy could see where the long grass bowed in waves before the coming storm. There now came a sharp whistling in the air from the south, and as they turned their eyes that way they saw ripples in the grass coming from that direction also. Suddenly Uncle Henry stood up. "There's a cyclone coming, Em," he called to his wife; "I'll go look after the stock." Then he ran toward the sheds where the cows and horses were kept. Aunt Em dropped her work and came to the door. One glance told her of the danger close at hand. "Quick, Dorothy!" she screamed; "run for the cellar!" Toto jumped out of Dorothy's arms and hid under the bed, and the girl started to get him. Aunt Em, badly frightened, threw open the trap-door in the floor and climbed down the ladder into the small, dark hole. Dorothy caught Toto at last, and started to follow her aunt. When she was half way across the room there came a great shriek from the wind, and the house shook so hard that she lost her footing and sat down suddenly upon the floor. A strange thing then happened. The house whirled around two or three times and rose slowly through the air. Dorothy felt as if she were going up in a balloon. The north and south winds met where the house stood, and made it the exact center of the cyclone. In the middle of a cyclone the air is generally still, but the great pressure of the wind on every side of the house raised it up higher and higher, until it was at the very top of the cyclone; and there it remained and was carried miles and miles away as easily as you could carry a feather. It was very dark, and the wind howled horribly around her, but Dorothy found she was riding quite easily. After the first few whirls around, and one other time when the house tipped badly, she felt as if she were being rocked gently, like a baby in a cradle. Toto did not like it. He ran about the room, now here, now there, barking loudly; but Dorothy sat quite still on the floor and waited to see what would happen. Once Toto got too near the open trap-door, and fell in; and at first the little girl thought she had lost him. But soon she saw one of his ears sticking up through the hole, for the strong pressure of the air was keeping him up so that he could not fall. She crept to the hole, caught Toto by the ear, and dragged him into the room again; afterward closing the trap-door so that no more accidents could happen. Hour after hour passed away, and slowly Dorothy got over her fright; but she felt quite lonely, and the wind shrieked so loudly all about her that she nearly became deaf. At first she had wondered if she would be dashed to pieces when the house fell again; but as the hours passed and nothing terrible happened, she stopped worrying and resolved to wait calmly and see what the future would bring. At last she crawled over the swaying floor to her bed, and lay down upon it; and Toto followed and lay down beside her. In spite of the swaying of the house and the wailing of the wind, Dorothy soon closed her eyes and fell fast asleep. Chapter 2 She was awakened by a shock, so sudden and severe that if Dorothy had not been lying on the soft bed she might have been hurt. As it was, the jar made her catch her breath and wonder what had happened; and Toto put his cold little nose into her face and whined dismally. Dorothy sat up and noticed that the house was not moving; nor was it dark, for the bright sunshine came in at the window, flooding the little room. She sprang from her bed and with Toto at her heels ran and opened the door. The little girl gave a cry of amazement and looked about her, her eyes growing bigger and bigger at the wonderful sights she saw. The cyclone had set the house down, very gently-for a cyclone-in the midst of a country of marvelous beauty. There were lovely patches of green sward all about, with stately trees bearing rich and luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous flowers were on every hand, and birds with rare and brilliant plumage sang and fluttered in the trees and bushes. A little way off was a small brook, rushing and sparkling along between green banks, and murmuring in a voice very grateful to a little girl who had lived so long on the dry, gray prairies. While she stood looking eagerly at the strange and beautiful sights, she noticed coming toward her a group of the queerest people she had ever seen. They were not as big as the grown folk she had always been used to; but neither were they very small. In fact, they seemed about as tall as Dorothy, who was a well-grown child for her age, although they were, so far as looks go, many years older. Three were men and one a woman, and all were oddly dressed. They wore round hats that rose to a small point a foot above their heads, with little bells around the brims that tinkled sweetly as they moved. The hats of the men were blue; the little woman's hat was white, and she wore a white gown that hung in plaits from her shoulders; over it were sprinkled little stars that glistened in the sun like diamonds. The men were dressed in blue, of the same shade as their hats, and wore well polished boots with a deep roll of blue at the tops. The men, Dorothy thought, were about as old as Uncle Henry, for two of them had beards. But the little woman was doubtless much older: her face was covered with wrinkles, her hair was nearly white, and she walked rather stiffly. When these people drew near the house where Dorothy was standing in the doorway, they paused and whispered among themselves, as if afraid to come farther. But the little old woman walked up to Dorothy, made a low bow and said, in a sweet voice, "You are welcome, most noble Sorceress, to the land of the Munchkins. We are so grateful to you for having killed the wicked Witch of the East, and for setting our people free from bondage." Dorothy listened to this speech with wonder. What could the little woman possibly mean by calling her a sorceress, and saying she had killed the wicked Witch of the East? Dorothy was an innocent, harmless little girl, who had been carried by a cyclone many miles from home; and she had never killed anything in all her life. But the little woman evidently expected her to answer; so Dorothy said, with hesitation, "You are very kind; but there must be some mistake. I have not killed anything." "Your house did, anyway," replied the little old woman, with a laugh; "and that is the same thing. See!" she continued, pointing to the corner of the house; "there are her two toes still sticking out from under a block of wood." Dorothy looked and gave a little cry of fright. There, indeed, just under the corner of the great beam the house rested on, two feet were sticking out, shod in silver shoes with pointed toes. "Oh, dear! oh, dear!" cried Dorothy, clasping her hands together in dismay; "the house must have fallen on her. What ever shall we do?" "There is nothing to be done," said the little woman, calmly. "But who was she?" asked Dorothy. "She was the wicked Witch of the East, as I said," answered the little woman. "She has held all the Munchkins in bondage for many years, making them slave for her night and day. Now they are all set free, and are grateful to you for the favour." "Who are the Munchkins?" enquired Dorothy. "They are the people who live in this land of the East, where the wicked Witch ruled." "Are you a Munchkin?" asked Dorothy. "No; but I am their friend, although I live in the land of the North. When they saw the Witch of the East was dead the Munchkins sent a swift messenger to me, and I came at once. I am the Witch of the North." "Oh, gracious!" cried Dorothy; "are you a real witch?" "Yes, indeed;" answered the little woman. "But I am a good witch, and the people love me. I am not as powerful as the wicked Witch was who ruled here, or I should have set the people free myself." "But I thought all witches were wicked," said the girl, who was half frightened at facing a real witch. "Oh, no; that is a great mistake. There were only four witches in all the Land of Oz, and two of them, those who live in the North and the South, are good witches. I know this is true, for I am one of them myself, and cannot be mistaken. Those who dwelt in the East and the West were, indeed, wicked witches; but now that you have killed one of them, there is but one wicked Witch in all the Land of Oz-the one who lives in the West." "But," said Dorothy, after a moment's thought, "Aunt Em has told me that the witches were all dead-years and years ago." "Who is Aunt Em?" inquired the little old woman. "She is my aunt who lives in Kansas, where I came from." The Witch of the North seemed to think for a time, with her head bowed and her eyes upon the ground. Then she looked up and said, "I do not know where Kansas is, for I have never heard that country mentioned before. But tell me, is it a civilized country?" "Oh, yes;" replied Dorothy. "Then that accounts for it. In the civilized countries I believe there are no witches left; nor wizards, nor sorceresses, nor magicians. But, you see, the Land of Oz has never been civilized, for we are cut off from all the rest of the world. Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us." "Who are the Wizards?" asked Dorothy. "Oz himself is the Great Wizard," answered the Witch, sinking her voice to a whisper. "He is more powerful than all the rest of us together. He lives in the City of Emeralds." Dorothy was going to ask another question, but just then the Munchkins, who had been standing silently by, gave a loud shout and pointed to the corner of the house where the Wicked Witch had been lying. "What is it?" asked the little old woman; and looked, and began to laugh. The feet of the dead Witch had disappeared entirely and nothing was left but the silver shoes. "She was so old," explained the Witch of the North, "that she dried up quickly in the sun. That is the end of her. But the silver shoes are yours, and you shall have them to wear." She reached down and picked up the shoes, and after shaking the dust out of them handed them to Dorothy. "The Witch of the East was proud of those silver shoes," said one of the Munchkins; "and there is some charm connected with them; but what it is we never knew." Dorothy carried the shoes into the house and placed them on the table. Then she came out again to the Munchkins and said, "I am anxious to get back to my Aunt and Uncle, for I am sure they will worry about me. Can you help me find my way?" The Munchkins and the Witch first looked at one another, and then at Dorothy, and then shook their heads. "At the East, not far from here," said one, "there is a great desert, and none could live to cross it." Excerpted from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher. Excerpted from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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Library Journal Review

Baum's classic is an eye-opener for those who know it only through countless viewings of the 1939 movie. While the basic plots are identical-Dorothy, Kansas, twister, Oz, Scarecrow, Tin Woodsman, Cowardly Lion, melted witch, clicking heels, return home-the novel is vastly simpler and waaayyy slower. The biggest disappointment is the Wicked Witch of the West. Deliciously evil on screen, the worst thing she does here is swat Dorothy with an umbrella. After receiving their brains, courage, etc., Dorothy and company have more strange adventures here, but they're entirely forgettable. VERDICT Narrator Tara Sands does an accomplished job of channeling each character according to Baum's descriptions, and this production will charm small children, but older kids and curious adults should stick to the film. Buy appropriately.-Mike Rogers, Babylon, NY (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Publishers Weekly Review

Baum's classic comes to life in this winning audio edition. When a cyclone whisks Dorothy Gale to the Land of Oz, her only hope of returning to Kansas is to find the Wizard, who lives in the heart of the Emerald City. Following the Yellow Brick Road, Dorothy encounters friends and foes-e.g., the endearing Scarecrow and the malevolent Wicked Witch of the West-that help and hinder her journey. Tavia Gilbert's whimsical narration will appeal to listeners young and old. Additionally, the distinct voices she creates for each character make for a delightful listening experience. Those only familiar with the film adaptation will be pleasantly surprised by the original story and Gilbert's fantastic narration. Ages 10-up. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

School Library Journal Review

Gr all levels-Dorothy and her little dog Toto are at home in their farmhouse when a cyclone suddenly lifts the house and deposits it in the fantastic land of the Munchkins. So begins Baum's timeless classic tale of magic and adventure in which Dorothy, along with three traveling companions she meets along the way-the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion-are involved in one adventure after another. Good and bad witches, friendly and unfriendly creatures, deadly poppies, and a dangerous river are just some of the challenges they encounter in their search for The Wizard of Oz, who they believe can grant each one of them their greatest wish: a return home for Dorothy, brains for the Scarecrow, a heart for the Tin Woodman, and courage for the Cowardly Lion. The audio quality of this offering is crisp and clear and Tavia Gilbert's narration is engaging, giving each character a distinct voice. Dorothy's voice is tremulous and has a lilting sing-song quality to it that is at times credulous, bewildered, confident, and consistently believable. The portrayal of the other characters is equally wonderful, with seamless transitions between them. A bonus companion ebook is included on the first CD. An enjoyable listening experience for all ages.-Mary Oluonye, Shaker Heights Public Library, OH (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Booklist Review

Gr. 4-8. Originally published in 1900, this classic story is now being re-issued with all 24 of Denslow's original colorplates, pictorial binding, and 130 two-color illustrations. Although children might be more enticed by illustrator Michael Hague's edition or Deborah Hautzig's adaptation, purists will delight in this facsimile and enjoy introducing it to children. BE. [OCLC] 86-62556

Notas de autor provistas por Syndetics

Best known as the author of the Wizard of Oz series, Lyman Frank Baum was born on May 15, 1856, in New York. When Baum was a young man, his father, who had made a fortune in oil, gave him several theaters in New York and Pennsylvania to manage. Eventually, Baum had his first taste of success as a writer when he staged The Maid of Arran, a melodrama he had written and scored.

Married in 1882 to Maud Gage, whose mother was an influential suffragette, the two had four sons. Baum often entertained his children with nursery rhymes and in 1897 published a compilation titled Mother Goose in Prose, which was illustrated by Maxfield Parrish. The project was followed by three other picture books of rhymes, illustrated by William Wallace Denslow.

The success of the nursery rhymes persuaded Baum to craft a novel out of one of the stories, which he titled The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Some critics have suggested that Baum modeled the character of the Wizard on himself. Other books for children followed the original Oz book, and Baum continued to produce the popular Oz books until his death in 1919. The series was so popular that after Baum's death and by special arrangement, Oz books continued to be written for the series by other authors. Glinda of Oz, the last Oz book that Baum wrote, was published in 1920.

(Bowker Author Biography)