Right Out of the Blue: The Origins of Wicked

The Wicked Witch of the West (Margaret Hamilton) and Dorothy (Judy Garland)

The current blockbuster movie Wicked is based on a novel and a Broadway musical of the same name, both of them derive from a Depression-era movie, which was itself an adaptation of a turn-of-the-century children’s book. In popular culture, as in many other spheres, the yellow brick road of history has many a strange twist.

In 1856, L. Frank Baum was born to a wealthy family at Chittenango, New York, near Syracuse. Frank was a dreamy child, so his father sent him to a military academy for some discipline. A weak heart cut short his stay. Back home, the gift of a printing press touched off a lifelong interest in writing. Frank and his brother started a neighborhood newspaper, then published a magazine on stamp collecting.

At twenty, Baum dove into poultry breeding. He started a trade journal on the subject; his first book was a treatise about chickens. He also loved the theater. His father built him an opera house and the young man played the lead role in his own successful play, The Maid of Arran. While on tour with the production, Frank met and married Maud Gage in 1882.

L. Frank Baum

When the Baum Opera House burned down and Maud became pregnant, Frank looked for a more stable career. He and his older brother formed a company to market a superior axle grease called Castorine. Frank was the chief salesman.

In 1888, Frank and Maud moved to the Dakota Territory and Frank ran a retail “bazaar,” which went bankrupt. Then he edited a newspaper, which failed. With four sons to support, he and Maud moved to Chicago where he worked as a newspaper reporter and as a traveling salesman of china dishware. He started another magazine that gave retailers advice about window displays.

In 1900, Frank Baum had his big idea. “It was pure inspiration,” he said. “It came to me right out of the blue.” He would write an American version of the European fairy tale. His story would be more upbeat, with less moralizing and a healthy dose of self-reliance. He would call it The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

The book was a hit with kids. At the age of forty-four, Frank Baum had found his calling. He resurrected his interest in theater and created a stage version with the title The Wizard of Oz. Oz became an industry. Baum would turn out thirteen more books set in the magical land during his lifetime. He also wrote forty-one other novels for children under an array of pen names before his death in 1919.

Baum, who had dabbled in the early movie business, would have been enchanted by the MGM film version of the story, which was released in 1939. An early Technicolor feature, it was one of the most successful pictures ever made.

The film’s memorable music included “Over the Rainbow,” judged the number one song of the twentieth century. The movie became a fountain of popular culture, contributing catchphrases like “we're not in Kansas anymore,” “follow the yellow brick road,” “pay no attention to the man behind the curtain,” and “there’s no place like home.”

Oz mania went on and on. The Wiz, a Broadway production with an African American cast, won a Tony for best musical in 1975. Three years later it became a feature film with Diana Ross, Michael Jackson, and other stars. In 2024, The Wiz was revived on Broadway.

Gregory Maguire published the novel Wicked in 1995, speculating on the life of the Wicked Witch of the West. The book was a successful Broadway musical before it became a must-see movie.

So, what does it all mean? Academics have suggested that Baum’s original story had a political message — it was a parable of 1890s populism. The yellow brick road and Dorothy’s silver slippers stood for the battle over coinage (the shoes turned ruby for the movie). Professors have had fun assigning symbolism to the book’s characters and plot.

Some critics likewise see echoes of our current political turmoil in Wicked. The original Oz books have been banned by various states over the years for depicting “godless supernaturalism” and a strong female protagonist.

On the other hand, perhaps the whole Oz phenomenon represents the flickering coals of the fire that scorched the so-called Burned-Over District of upstate New York during the nineteenth century. The Erie Canal, which is celebrating its bicentennial in 2025, was a corridor of exciting ideas, new religions (including Mormonism), and communication with the dead. It was a nursery for social movements ranging from women’s rights and abolition to free thought.

Frank Baum was born and grew up along the canal. His mother-in-law, Matilda Joslyn Gage, a prominent campaigner for women’s suffrage and other causes, had a significant influence on Baum’s thinking. Gregory Maguire, the author of Wicked, was raised in Albany, the waterway’s eastern terminus. Who knows what ghosts of ideas may still haunt that fertile stretch of land?

Maybe more than any of this, the Oz narrative is simply Baum’s own story. From an early age, he loved to spin tall tales for children. But the demands of a busy life at first blocked him from embracing the calling. The notion of the winding road that leads back to the “home” of the true self was a prominent theme of the original Oz.

If you can’t get enough of Oz, don’t worry. This year’s Wicked is only Part 1. The conclusion will be coming in 2025. And additional adaptations of this all-American fantasy will likely go on and on, keeping alive the hope that “the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.”

For more fascinating lore, check out Heaven’s Ditch: God, Gold and Murder on the Erie Canal. The book’s author also grew up in the Burned-Over District.