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Transcending
Narcissism in the Wizard of Oz
by
William Earnest
Dorothy
and her friends in the Wizard of Oz are preoccupied with lack. They
search for missing body parts, or character traits, or they long to
return home. In their search they enter into relationships with gatekeepers
and credential dispensers who, in the end, only confer on the characters
the power to use what they already have. In this respect, the film
serves to elaborate – whimsically, but within the bounds of plausible
clinical analogy – my criticism
of Zizek’s idea that
the effort to remedy narcissistic lacks can be relied upon to undercut
conformity and drive political struggle.
The plot: Each of the central characters
needs something. The Tin Man and the Scarecrow both think of themselves
as needing a body part – a heart for the former, a brain for
the latter – and the Cowardly
Lion needs a character trait, courage. Dorothy doesn’t share
in this experience of something missing in herself. At the start of
the film she sings diffusely of dreams she wishes would come true,
and throughout the core of the movie she expresses a simple desire
to find the way back home, to return to her aunt and uncle. Tellingly,
she seems to have more than she wants, for she has acquired the Ruby
Slippers by accidentally crushing their former owner, the Wicked Witch
of the East. This generates an experience of lack in the Wicked Witch
of the West, who becomes Dorothy’s envious nemesis.
The
trip to Oz, home of the Wizard, begins when the Good Witch of the North
tells Dorothy that the Wizard will help her get home. Along the way
she picks up her entourage of fellow petitioners. When they arrive
at glittering Oz they are made pretty and presentable and meet the
Wizard. The Wizard – who appears as an awesome, fire-wreathed,
disembodied tyrant – tells them that he will consider their requests
if they obtain for him the broomstick of Wicked Witch of the West. They succeed in their quest. But upon
their return the Wizard hesitates. With Dorothy in the lead, the group
begins to protest, and the Wizard’s roaring dismissal
of them wilts when Toto pulls aside a curtain to reveal an embarrassed,
unimposing figure spinning wheels and talking into an amplifier that
makes his weak voice boom. Dorothy’s group is disappointed
and indignant. But despite the Wizard’s unveiling as a fraud,
he still can give them what they want. Now speaking as a humble wise
man – and after his apologies, he appears relieved at his fall – he
addresses each of their needs in magical, concrete terms. The Scarecrow
gets a scroll, and recites Euclid. The Cowardly Lion gets a huge medal,
and feels confirmed in his courage. The Tin Man gets a plastic heart
on a string of teeth, complete with built-in time piece, and he immediately
experiences poignant emotions. And Dorothy is promised a ride home
in a balloon. The
film could not be more explicit in its exposure of how the substances
Dorothy’s three friends desire, substances they had assumed only
the Wizard was in a position to grant, are simply unacknowledged potentials
revealed to be theirs by experience.
What, then, is the nature of the power
the Wizard is able to exercise? It is a power only exercised when the
Wizard is undone as a powerful parental figure who exclusively
possesses. Once his power is lost, it flows outward, allowing
everyone to appropriate their potential. Up to the moment of the Wizard’s
unveiling, the film is charged with a potential for deadly conflict
with antagonistic parental figures – the Wicked Witch, the Wizard – who
control access to power. Dorothy’s infantalized little group
is caught up in a dangerous adventure in which these frightening Others
must be overcome. But, when the Wizard is unveiled , the
harrowing scenario changes to a mundane acknowledgement of, or warrant
to exercise, capacities that are already held, waiting to be acknowledged
and respected. The independent exercise of these abilities is
no longer threatening to the now kindly Wizard/parent, who steps aside,
preparing to go back to Kansas. The Wizard himself becomes just a regular
guy and, by being just a regular guy, the Oedipal drama of dispossession
and struggle that the quartet was caught up in suddenly dissipates.
This is the endpoint of the Oedipal passage Maria
Torok refers
to, and this passage characterizes the process of disenchantment characteristic
of each of the analyses in the Madness Isn't the only Option paper on this site.
Dorothy's
Fate
Dorothy’s ultimate fate is framed
by a restrictive definition of femininity. She intends to go back to
Kansas with the Wizard, but the balloon becomes prematurely unmoored
and the Wizard, concluding his fall from omniscence by yelling he doesn’t
know how the balloon works, floats away. As Dorothy fights off despair,
Glenda reappears and tells her that she may simply tap the heels of the
Ruby Slippers together three times and go home. Again, as in the case of
her friends, this capacity was always within her grasp. But Dorothy’s
return to sepia-toned Kansas entails the loss of the slippers as well
as the vibrant technicolor of Oz. Her loss of the slippers and the
broader draining of the environment represents a yielding up of something
flamboyant and at least prospectively sexual. This impression of loss
is strengthened by her exquisitely sentimental final affirmation “If
I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won't go looking
any further than my own back yard, because if it isn't there, it isn't
anywhere. Oh, Auntie Em, there's no place like home!” Her revelation
coincides with an oath of allegiance to domesticity.
But this isn’t just about staying
on the farm and giving up the delights of of Oz. It is also about giving
up anger. Going back to the beginning of the story, Dorothy’s
flight is occasioned by
Elvira Gulch’s threat to Toto. During the scene when Gulch serves
the sheriff’s papers to take Toto, Gulch reaches for Toto and
Dorothy slaps her hand. She then looks for backup from her aunt and
uncle. Dorothy doesn’t get it, and they instead advise her to
yield. She gives Toto to Gulch, but then decides to run away after
Toto manages his escape. Here, I think it is plausible to argue that
a split develops in Dorothy’s emotions. Following one current,
we see Dorothy run away, feeling lost, looking for help from the mountebank
Professor Marvel, being moved by his well--intentioned false report
of her aunt’s heart pains, and returning to aid her. This help-seeking/kindly
emotional trend is divorced from her rage: because the return home
will once again place Toto in jeopardy, Dorothy becomes angry, but
disavows her anger in the projected form of the threatening tornado.
She then passively experiences the windstorm, and thereby seems innocent
of the death of Gulch (embodied as the Wicked Witch of the East). In
this perspective, Dorothy’s affirmation that “there’s
no place
like home” is as much a renunciation of murderous violence as
it is a renunciation of sexuality.
Dorothy’s wish for home represents
her desire to return to the childhood of her latency, free of emerging
sexual and aggressive feelings. In contrast to her comrades, she maintains
her disorientation to her emotional life. They are taken through a
passage, Oedipal in form, that allows them to have what they believe
they didn’t. Indeed, this passage is promoted by Dorothy’s
plight, which moves them out of the torpor of narcissistic lack
and into a form of solidarity. But Dorothy herself, after carrying
out her galvanizing role, cannot really possess what she has discovered.
The Ruby Slippers, which were so powerfully affixed to Dorothy’s
feet when the envious Wicked Witch of the West tried to take them for
herself, nevertheless remain consciously unwanted by Dorothy, external
to her. They finally fall away when Dorothy magically renounces them
at the suggestion of Glenda, the sugary sweet “good” witch
who serves as a sponsor of Dorothy's latency phase identity. Dorothy's
aggressive feelings suffer the common fate of projections: they
remain closely linked to external accidents – tornados, or the
reflexive action of pouring water on the burning Scarecrow that leads
to the Wicked Witch of the
West being “liquidated” – and are thereby lost to
external contingency. Dorothy returns to her dreamy state of wanting
something only vaguely defined as at a location "somewhere over
the rainbow," making it more likely she will wind up waiting
for a man to come along and act on her behalf.
The Paralyzed
Ordeal of Narcissistic Longing
Parallels between the analysands
of the "Madness
isn't the Only Option..." paper on this site and the characters
of Oz are most clear in the case of the Dorothy’s three male
friends. Their sense that they lack something puts them in a state
of psychic
paralysis,
hanging
around
in cornfields or frozen with rust, and this is nicely emblematic of
the state of objectified fascination characteristic of narcissism. It
is only when they are drawn into the dynamics of relational desire – their
friendship and love for Dorothy – that they move forward, following
a trajectory in which they eventually confront the possessive Oedipal
tyrants they fear. In their narcissistic misery they have been
isolated and self-absorbed; it is the wish to help Dorothy, to answer
her call for assistance that gives them some confidence in their
own value. Her appeal draws them back into life, away from the captivating,
delusional certainty that they lack something and that, if they only
had it, everything would be fine. Their narcissistic orientation
is truly superseded in the Hegelian sense that they have
involved themselves in a process that transmutes their narcissistic
fascination with lack into an emotional investment in another person.
They keep the placebos – the diploma, the heart, and the medal – that
refer to their formerly held delusion, but have been drawn into more
fully developed relationships with another human being.

To refer to Zizek’s model of political
action, Dorothy's narcissistically-preoccupied friends have become “passionately
attached to some Cause…for which [they] are ready to risk everything.” But
supporting the Cause leads to a transcendence of their fascination
with representations of what they delusionally believed they needed
for a relationship to be possible. Zizek's formulation in The
Ticklish Subject of the plausible basis for political actions
is insensitive to the possibility of this transcendence. Due to his
stress on avoiding the spell of "stupid self-contented life-rhythms," he
places his psychoanalytic wager on mechanisms grounded in narcissism.
In this sense, he seeks to grow a more vital politics from a relatively
frozen personality structure, one that is inconsonant with the dynamics
of mobilization and solidarity. [For more on these issues, please refer
to the essay "Madness
isn't the Only Option: On Zizek's Resignation to Narcissistic Politics" on
this website.]
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