The Scarecrow

What is it that he wants?

10 responses to “The Scarecrow

  1. And why is that?

  2. There is space in his noggin and he wants someone to fix it.

  3. We are told by Baum that the Scarecrow wants a brain. But on their journey to the Emerald City, he has all the answers. “I’ll show you how to get apples!” Clearly, he already has a brain.
    So, what does he really want?
    Acceptance? Recognition? A home?
    But wait, aren’t those the same things that Dorothy wants? Could it be that it’s actually Dorothy who needs a brain—and a heart plus some courage—to get back home?
    Oh, L. Frank Baum, aren’t you the clever one!

    Hi, Ann! It’s been a while since I’ve visited your site but I hope you’ll remember me. It’s “Olivia Scarlett.” I’m using my real name and photo now. I love the new look of this site and congratulations on your novel!

    • You’re on to something there, Olivehead. I think Mr Scarecrow is an allegorical character representing those who are struggling and being oppressed. He is a small farmer being slapped around by Monsanto. He is a sad and forlorn critter, who really wants acceptance, (like you said,) equality, and fair deal. This is Waldo, I took a bunch of drugs yesterday and just woke up on Ann’s site. It’s a happy landing!

      • Waldo,
        For goodness sake; where have you been? Touring Europe? Retired for good? Hanging out in the mountains and playing to the moon? It’s good to hear from you, and I’m glad your semi-conscious self was wise enough to bring you back where your cock-eyed and original views are deeply appreciated.

        I think the scarecrow wants a brain so he can to invent a way to become someone who can eat. He craves roast duck with rich gravy, asparagus, cornbread and butter, apple pie and coffee. He wants to be able to sleep, to dream, to hold a pencil, and to paint. He wants to be able to frown if he wants. (I know I do.)

    • Olivia! I’m glad you dropped back in. Your ability to think through the obvious is great fun. I love it.

  4. Scarecrow longs to spend an evening with friends in front of a cozy fire. For decades he has watched from a distance as others chatted and laughed while roasting hot dogs and marshmallows, gobbling down ‘Smores. His fears of gluing his straw mouth shut with the sticky sweets, leaving him unable to shout for help should an errant spark ignite his brittle, dusty body have kept him from enjoying the fun. But he’s getting older and just once he’d like to give it a go. His friends have volunteered to stand by with buckets of water to allow him to enjoy this simple but elusive pleasure. Will it turn out to be worth the risks?

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