The Emerald Burrito of Oz [Paperback]

It's a rare thing when the atmosphere in a book seems so real and speaks to me on such a level that I want to find a way in and live there. "Burrito" was like "The Wizard of Oz" on acid. Trippy, dippy, full 'o' fun. The safest form of pure escapism that I've had the pleasure to come across in a loooooong time. One of the things that makes this stellar read so much fun is the character's familiarity, but all twisted up in a whole new light. I especially loved the TinMan, nuff said. The writers really know how to make you see what & who they're talking about, even if you've never seen them or it before. I loved the relationships between everyone and REALLY loved a certain little, oh I don't know what to call him, gremlin(?) and the way he mangled the English language. You know what they say about singers? How only a truly great singer can sing off key? Carol Burnett and her comedy sketches come to mind. Well, this amazing book shows that it's doubly true for writers. I didn't want it end and I wish there was more. Now where's that gate?

What do you get when you mix the magical land of Oz, CIA hijinks, a possessed laptop, occasional dismemberment, fabulous Mexican food, and a hottie named Aurora Quixote Jones? THE EMERALD BURRITO OF OZ, of course! This ain't your daddy's Oz, no question. Instead, it's more like APOCALYPSE NOW meets THE WIZARD OF OZ as directed by Terry Gilliam. Authors John Skipp (of Skipp & Spector splatterpunk fame) and Marc Levinthal (who co-wrote the score for the film VALLEY GIRL) reinvent Oz for the new Millennium, managing to make the fabled land over the rainbow wonderful and surreal and comic and terrifying. GET THIS BOOK!!!!

My working knowledge of "The Wizard of Oz" is limited to what the movies have done with it. Having been inundated in childhood with the classic 1939 movie, and then later enjoying "Return to Oz" and later still that "Tin-Man" cable miniseries, my exposure is probably twice as much as most people. Still, I have no real frame of reference to Baum's original series of books, so I came into "The Emerald Burrito of Oz" about as unsullied by expectation as is humanly possible when it comes to source material so ingrained into the pop culture fabric. So I'm unsure as to the extent of revisionism at work here, but I assume this accessible, post-modern fantasy from John Skipp and Marc Levinthal is plenty respectful, yet still a bit more iconoclastic.

The conceit at play here is that Oz is real. The Baum books and the MGM movie came out (inaccurately inspired by true events) but shortly after World War II it was made public that Oz was a real place ... sure, it's another dimension, but one easy enough to travel back and forth from, if you can get a visa. The point of departure: Kansas. Our heroes are Aurora, a longtime expatriate fully involved in the politics of Oz, and her old friend Gene, who's embarking on his first visit with the same fresh eyes the reader has. The story is presented from their dual perspectives - alternating war dispatches written by two compulsive diarists with two very different viewpoints and voices. Through them we get the entire Oz experience as shady goings-on and government and corporate interests heat up into full scale war over the annexation of the beloved fantasyscape.

But that's big picture stuff, and not as important or well drawn as the richness of character Skipp and Levinthal conjure up. The world of Oz as it's been effected by our modern world is fully realized (and our world seems to have inherited a little magic itself, since throwaway lines reveal that Al Gore is president and Keith Richards is dead - apparently there's a clearer justice in a post-Oz Earth - nothing against Richards) but no big idea or imaginative detail is ever dwelled on long enough to give the impression that the "world building" or "high concept" take any kind of priority. The contact between the two worlds - the pragmatic present day US and the magical land of Oz with it's limitless possibilities and topsy turvy laws of physics - and what that convergence implies for both - is just the crux of the plot. One of the most apparently inconsequential of developments - Oz's first Mexican restaurant - is the hub from which the story and characters all spoke out in their various directions.

Conceptually, what is one of the most purely American of all fantasy stories has to be attacked and defended from a modern American viewpoint - and the largest looming darkness in the Emerald Burrito (both the book and it's namesake restaurant) is U.S. imperialism invading the familiar fantasy world. Though the writing is never so heavy-handed as to actually come out and say it like that, the concept of corporate and government interest encroaching on the purity of a cherished neverwhere is beautifully executed ... especially in lieu of how many Oz-related feature films are currently in the works. How the characters develop, grow and are revealed alongside the issue of a government conspiracy going up against the magical oligarchy of Oz is graceful and simple (though not simplisic) and much smaller-scale than one would imagine. There's not much of a sweeping epic quality at work here, instead we're treated to the small dilemmas, personal wonders and introspective musings of the core characters as they're tossed about by the grander aspects.

I'm trying my best to harp on this without giving too much away, because like the best of both fantasy and Bizarro, there's an onslaught of ideas planted in the same garden alongside insane and visceral events that are better left as surprises. Skipp is known for co-founding splatterpunk, and those stylistic flourishes show up along with stylistic trimmings that resemble cyberpunk, steampunk, dieselpunk - all the buzz genres effortlessly outdone here - as hard fantasy creatures (some I presume are from Baum, some I presume are not) both majestic and malevolent are pitted against government spooks and normal folks alike. And consequently every encounter, every showdown, every connection is powerful. All the traditional characters one would expect to see show up as well -- Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion (and Toto too!) and they're all appropriately skewed from their most popular inceptions, along with truly clever and revelatory spins on the most famous of Wizard of Oz cliches -- "there's no place like home!"

I've seen Bizarro authors take everything from the Bible to slasher movies and skewer, mix, remix and mingle them with a wit and profundity that's rarely given recognition - folding pop culture and general culture into a surreal, absurd, sharp, spiky, sometimes perverse and often uncomfortably personal 8-bit leatherbound literary playground that's so much more than just "weird for the sake of weird" and with those pieces of ciches, standards and staples create something original and engaging. "The Emerald Burrito of Oz" is the perfect example of how pastiche, satire, tribute and parody can coalesce the same way. With a slew of post-modern fantasy/fairy tale re-imaginings, re-tellings and Freudian readings out there, Skipp and Levinthal have wormed something immediate, heartfelt and recognizably human through all the trappings of their concept. Wherever your sensibilities lie - whether you're a Gene, an Aurora or even a Dorothy, it's a great read that will sate your bloodlust for fractured (and mended) fables.

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