WICKED GREGORY MAGUIRE PDF
Wicked - The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. By Gregory Maguire. Prologue. On the Yellow Brick Road. A mile above Oz, the Witch balanced on. The basis for the smash hit Tony Award-winning Broadway musical, Gregory Maguire's breathtaking New York Times bestseller Wicked views the land of Oz. Read Wicked by Gregory Maguire for free with a 30 day free trial. Read unlimited * books and audiobooks on the web, iPad, iPhone and Android.
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Gregory Maguire - Wicked 02 - Son of a Witch. Home · Gregory Maguire - Wicked Author: Maguire Gregory Son of a Witch: Volume Two in the Wicked Years. Schwartz and book by Winnie Holzman, based on the novel by Gregory Maguire. of the Wicked edition of StageNOTES®: A Field Guide for Teachers is fully. Editorial Reviews. From Publishers Weekly. Born with green skin and huge teeth, like a dragon, Wicked: Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (Wicked Years Book 1) - Kindle edition by Gregory Maguire. Download it once and read.
One was a fishwife, the other a palsied crone; they took turns feeling her forehead, peering between her legs, and stealing glances at the few beautiful trinkets and treasures Melena had managed to bring here from Colwen Grounds. You chew that paste of pinlobble leaves, duckie, you do that. Thought you would smell of rosewater and fairy dew, but you stink like the rest of us. Chew on, my duckie, chew on. At the sound of a knock, the crone looked up guiltily from the chest she was kneeling before and rummaging through.
She let the lid close with a bang and affected a position of prayer, eyes closed. Enter, she called. A maiden with tender skin and high color came in. Oh, I hoped someone would be here, she said. How is she? The men are drunk and on the prowl. The clock said to. No, I cannot be moved, thought Melena, and if the peasants find Frex tell them to kill him good and hard for me, for I never knew a pain so extraordinary that it made me see the blood behind my own eyes.
Kill him for doing this to me. At this thought, she smiled in a moment of relief and passed out. Come, help me fetch it. You, old mother hag, get your face out of the linens and come dampen this pretty pink brow. Right-o, now we go. A few minutes later the crone, the wife, and the maiden were trundling the hay cart along a rarely used track through the spindles and bracken of the autumn woods.
The wind had picked up. It whistled over the treeless foreheads of the Cloth Hills. Melena, sprawled in blankets, heaved and moaned in unconscious pain.
They heard a drunken mob pass, with pitchforks and torches, and the women stood silent and terrified, listening to the slurred curses. Then they pressed on with greater urgency until they came upon a foggy copse—the edge of the graveyard for unconsecrated corpses. Within it they saw the blurred outlines of the clock. It had been left here for safekeeping by the dwarf—no fool he; he could guess this particular corner of the world was the last place jumpy villagers would seek tonight.
The dwarf and his boykins were drinking in the tavern too, said the maiden breathlessly. She pushed open the door in the back of the clock. She found a crawl space. Pendulums hung ominously in the gloom. Huge toothed wheels looked primed to slice any trespasser into sausage rounds. Come on, drag her in, said the crone.
The night of torches and fog gave way, at dawn, to broad bluffs of thundercloud, dancing skeletons of lightning. Glimpses of blue sky appeared briefly, though sometimes it rained so hard that it seemed more like mud drops falling than water. The midwives, crawling on hands and knees out of the back of the clock-wagon, had their little discharge at last.
They protected the infant from the dripping gutter. Look, a rainbow, said the senior, bobbing her head.
A sickly scarf of colored light hung in the sky. What they saw, rubbing the caul and blood off the skin—was it just a trick of the light? After all, following the storm the grass did seem to throb with its own color, the roses zinged and hovered with crazy glory on their stems. There was no wail, no bark of newborn outrage. The child opened its mouth, breathed, and then kept its own counsel.
The baby shirked its obligations. For a minute they were in disagreement, even with the child naked before them. Only after a second and third rub was it clear that the child was indeed feminine. Perhaps in labor some bit of organic effluvia had become caught and quickly dried in the cloven place.
Once toweled, she was observed to be prettily formed, with a long elegant head, forearms nicely turned out, clever pinching little buttocks, cunning fingers with scratchy little nails. And an undeniable green cast to the skin.
There was a salmon blush in the cheeks and belly, a beige effect around the clenched eyelids, a tawny stripe on the scalp showing the pattern of eventual hair. But the primary effect was vegetable. Look what we get for our troubles, said the maiden. A little green pat of butter. You know what people will say. It smells like dung. Lose it in the puddle, drown the thing.
They giggled. They cradled the infant in the crook of their arms, passing it around to test it for weight and balance. To kill it was the kindest course of action.
The question was how. Then the child yawned, and the fishwife absentmindedly gave it a finger to nurse on, and the child bit the finger off at the second knuckle. It almost choked on the gush of blood. The digit dropped out of its mouth into the mud like a bobbin.
The women catapulted into action. The fishwife lunged to strangle the girl, and the crone and the maiden flared up in defense. The finger was dug out of the mire and shoved in an apron pocket, possibly to sew back onto the hand that had lost it.
Oh, beware the stupid boy first tries to please himself with her! They left a pipkin of water nearby, and under cover of the next squall they went squelching away, to find their sons and husbands and brothers, and berate and beat them if they were available, or bury them if not. She held it, as a mother must. She waited for the groundwater of maternal affection to rise and overwhelm her.
She did not weep. She chewed pinlobble leaves, to float away from the disaster. It was a she. It was a her. Melena practiced conversions in her thinking when she was alone. The twitching, unhappy bundle was not male; it was not neutered; it was a female. It slept, looking like a heap of cabbage leaves washed and left to drain on the table. In a panic, Melena wrote to Colwen Grounds to drag Nanny from her retirement. Frex went ahead in a carriage to collect Nanny from the way station at Stonespar End.
On the trip back, Nanny asked Frex what was wrong. What is wrong. He sighed, and was lost in thought. Nanny realized she had chosen her words poorly; now Frex was distracted. He began to mumble in a general way about the nature of evil. A vacuum set up by the inexplicable absence of the Unnamed God, and into which spiritual poison must rush. A vortex. I mean what is the state of the child! Why does Melena call for me instead of for her mother?
Why is there no letter for her grandfather? Frex, tell me everything. Damage indeed, said Nanny mockingly, but Frex as usual missed the dig. Has she got all her limbs?
It has extraordinary teeth, Nanny. For a few moments Frex could only shake his head. Nanny did not like him and she would not like him, but she softened. Tell Nanny. Frex began to weep. Heaven is not improved by it, Nanny; and heaven does not approve. What are we to do! Nanny detested weeping men. Trust Nanny.
The baby has a name? Frex sounded as if he hoped this would be the case.
Interesting country, are we in Wend Hardings yet? Nanny asked, to change the subject. But Frex had folded up inside, barely bothering to guide the horses onto the correct track. The country was filthy, depressed, peasant-ridden; Nanny began to wish she had not set out in her best traveling gown. Let me see the baby first, said Nanny. Frex, put the basket on the floor where I can look into it. Frex obliged, and then went to return the horses and carriage to Bfee, who rarely needed them for mayoral duties but loaned them out to earn a little political capital.
The nose looked like a knob of bad mushroom, poking up for air, and the eyes were open. Nanny leaned closer. They were brown and rich, the color of overturned earth, flecked with mica. There was a network of fragile red lines at each soft angle where the eyelids met, as if the girl had been bursting the blood threads from the exertion of watching and understanding.
And the skin, oh yes, the skin was green as sin. Not an ugly color, Nanny thought. Just not a human color. The infant flinched, and her backbone arched, and the wrapping, which was tucked securely around the child from neck to toe, split open like a husk.
Nanny gritted her teeth and was determined not to be cowed. The baby had exposed herself, sternum to groin, and the skin on her chest was the same remarkable color. Have you even touched this child yet, you two? The child was wet and soiled but felt made according to standard design.
The skin was the same miracle of pliant smoothness that Melena had possessed as an infant.
Come to Nanny, you horrid little thing you. Nanny leaned to pick the baby up, mess and all. The baby swiveled to avoid the touch. Her head beat itself against the rush bottom of the basket. Such well-developed muscles! Come here, you little demon. Nanny likes you. She was lying through her teeth, but unlike Frex she believed some lies were sanctioned by heaven. And she got her hands on Elphaba, and settled her on her lap.
There Nanny waited, crooning and every now and then looking away, out the window, to recover herself and keep from vomiting. Melena propped herself up on her elbows in the late afternoon when Nanny brought a tray with tea and bread.
Now come to your senses, sweetheart, and let me give you a kiss. Oh, Nanny! Melena allowed herself to be coddled. Thank you for coming.
Have you seen the little monster? We need not go into it now, but I will have to know everything, my sweet. She would bite a hole through the basket if she were left unfettered.
She went after her own shoulder and scraped it raw. She looked as if she were strangling. Nanny asked. At least until the baby learns some self-control? It will be all over the valley that the little marrow is green.
However in the world did her skin come green? Nanny wondered, stupidly, for Melena blanched and Frex reddened, and the baby held her breath as if trying to turn blue to please them all. Nanny had to slap her to make her breathe again. Nanny interviewed Frex out in the yard. After the double blow of the birth and his public embarrassment, he was not yet up to professional engagements and sat whittling praying beads out of oak, scoring and inscribing them with emblems of the Namelessness of God.
Nanny set Elphaba down inside—she had an unreasonable fear of being overheard by this infant, and, worse, of being understood —and Nanny sat scooping out a pumpkin for supper. And no, there is no green, anywhere. I never heard of such a thing before in any family. Nanny nodded and said, Well all right, I was only asking.
But, Frex said humbly, "Nanny, I think I caused this thing to happen. My tongue slipped on the day of the birthday—I announced that the devil was coming.
I meant the Clock of the Time Dragon. But suppose those words unlocked room for the devil?. The child is no devil! On the other hand, Frex continued, sounding more secure, she may have been cursed by Melena, accidentally, who took my remark the wrong way and wept about it. Maybe Melena opened up inside herself a window through which an unattached sprite entered and colored the child. On the very day she is to be born? Is your goodness so exalted you attract the truly high-powered among the Spirits of Aberration?
Frex shrugged. A few weeks earlier he would have nodded, but his confidence was shattered with his abject failure in Rush Margins. He did not dare suggest what he feared: Nanny asked practically, if through a curse the goods were damaged, then through what might the ill be overturned? But now that he had a goal, his spirits brightened. He would spend some days in fasting, rehearsing prayers, and collecting supplies for the arcane ritual. Frex wonders if his prediction that the devil was coming caused a window in you to open, letting an imp pass through to spoil the baby, said Nanny.
She was crocheting an edge of lace, clumsily; she had never excelled at piecework, but she liked handling the polished ivory crochet hook. I wonder if you opened another window? I know you, honey, said Nanny. You were lusty and sneaky and good at it. Melena buried her face in the pillow. Oh for those days! But I hate being better than the local peasant idiots! Well, now this green child brings you down to their level, you ought to be pleased, said Nanny meanly.
Nanny, I love Frex. But he leaves me alone so often!
Gregory Maguire - Wicked 02 - Son of a Witch
I would kill for some tinker to pass by and sell me more than a tin coffeepot! I would pay well for someone less godly and more imaginative! The recent past. Since your marriage. No more would I, said Nanny, but the green does give one pause. Are there elves in the neighborhood? The idea is repulsive. Elves giggle at everything, do you know that? One of them falls out of an oak and smashes his skull like a rotten turnip, and they gather and giggle and then forget about him.
Then someone else. Someone handsome enough on the outside, but carrying a germ that maybe you caught. Melena looked shocked.
Could she be at risk? And Melena explained. Yes, the cottage was off the beaten track, and of course she never passed more than the curtest greetings with local farmers and fishermen and thickheads. But more travelers took to the hills and woods than you would credit. Often she had sat, listless and lonely, while Frex was off preaching, and she had found comfort in giving passersby a simple meal and a buoyant conversation.
But on those boring days, Melena muttered, she had taken to chewing pinlobble leaves. When she would awake, because the sun was setting or Frex was there frowning or grinning at her, she remembered little. Nanny was scandalized. But I remember once when a tinker with a funny accent gave me a draft of some heady brew from a green glass bottle. And I had rare expansive dreams, Nanny, of the Other World—cities of glass and smoke—noise and color—I tried to remember.
Nanny lost her temper at last. Just try drowning that thing, muttered Nanny. I pity the poor lake asked to take her in. In the back of the chest Nanny found the green glass bottle spoken of by Melena. Though she had a native skill in healing, Nanny was unable to come up with a skin-changing potion. But the child would not allow herself to be lowered into a pail of lake water; she twisted like a cat in panic. It left a horrid sour stink if she did not rub it off thoroughly with a cloth.
Frex organized an exorcism.
It involved candles and hymns. Nanny watched from a distance. The man was beady-eyed, perspiring with effort even though the mornings were colder and colder. Elphaba slept in her binding cloth in the middle of the carpet, oblivious to the sacrament. Nothing happened. Frex fell, exhausted and spent, and cradled his green daughter within the crook of his arm, as if finally embracing the proof of some undisclosed sin.
There was only one thing left to try. Nanny gathered the courage to bring it up on the day she was to leave back for Colwen Grounds. Do you have the courage to think about sorcery? Is there someone local who could magick the green venom out of the child? Frex was up and lashing out at Nanny, swinging his fists.
Nanny fell backward off her stool, and Melena bobbed about her, shrieking. In this household! Contracts with the demons! Nanny said, Oooh, preserve me! The next morning Nanny packed her valise. Frex drove Nanny back to the inn at Stonespar End, for the coach-and-four to take her home. Nanny knew Melena might still think about killing the child, but somehow she doubted it. Nanny held her valise to her ample bosom, fearing bandits again. Inside her valise was hidden her gold garter she. This action might not be possible to undo.
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Summary This is the book that started it all! Read on the Scribd mobile app Download the free Scribd mobile app to read anytime, anywhere. HarperCollins Released: Oct 13, ISBN: Book Preview Wicked - Gregory Maguire. Oh you, you see castration everywhere you look, said the Lion. A dangerous tyrant, said the Lion with conviction. No one is exempt from grief. Good friends, should we be wary of that storm? No matter that the companions had hurried away.
The Witch could wait. They would meet again. His tone had changed; he meant this. What will my fellow ministers think? How did that proverb go, the one that Nanny singsonged to her, years ago, in the nursery? Frex noticed her silence. She raised her eyebrows, as if she had never encountered the concept before.
Our child may not have a small life. There will be other children. She turned away so he could not see the rage in her face.
The devil is coming. I mean the temptation in Rush Margins! And you know what I mean, Melena! The will of the Unnamed God, said Frex. My will too, she said, blasphemously. The Birth of a Witch It was nearly evening by the time Frex had worked up the courage to enter the ramshackle hamlet of Rush Margins. You have no mettle to resist new forms, said Frex, spitting. We women can manage that much, I guess! Nearly out and so is the babe, answered the fishwife.
An hour more, I reckon. The crone, her head back in the chest, said, Anyone for some real lace from Gillikin? Another willful boy, said the fishwife, sighing. Shall we kill it? Any more than she needs? Is she sucking? What color is the wrong color? I trusted in the Unnamed God, sobbed Frex. After Saint Aelphaba of the Waterfall? A fine old name. In fact, as the weeks went on, Nanny noticed quite a few disturbing things about the baby.
An exorcism, said Frex. Are you empowered? Melena, groggy from pinlobble leaves as usual, arched an eyebrow in confusion. Did you sleep with someone other than Frex?
She nodded, she shrugged, she rocked her head. The obvious theory is an elf, said Nanny. The truth, said Nanny. We must know. The truth, said Melena distantly. Well, it is unknowable. What are you trying to say? And more? We can always drown the baby and start over.
Nanny, enough, said Melena. Hitting a feeble old woman, said Nanny, hurt. Who only tries to help. Start your free 30 days. Share your thoughts with other customers. Write a customer review.
Customer images. See all customer images. Read reviews that mention wicked witch witch of the west gregory maguire frank baum good and evil life and times nature of evil son of a witch emerald city among men animal rights confessions of an ugly well written ugly stepsister yellow brick times of the wicked lion among cowardly lion brick road witch of the east. Top Reviews Most recent Top Reviews. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later. Paperback Verified download.
I wish that I had researched this book more before I ordered it for my teenage daughter. She and I are both obsessed with the musical Wicked, so I bought her all 4 of the books for her 13th birthday.
She was so excited! Then she started reading this one and brought it to me. It's full of sexual encounters and really raunchy descriptions. I am absolutely mortified that I didn't check it out first. Kindle Edition Verified download.
I was introduced to the music of the Broadway musical Wicked not that long ago, and was immediately intrigued with the idea of the Wicked Witch of the West not being as evil as she was made out to be in The Wizard of Oz.
What if it was the Wizard who was the evil one? The idea of turning such a revered story on its head was too much to resist, and I was pleasantly surprised when my friend starbreiz sent me some items from my site wishlist, including Wicked by Gregory Maguire. There Is Always More to the Story Gregory Maguire's first novel turned one of the most established legends of our time on its ear with its premise: The story surrounds the life of Elphaba, the daughter of a minister and a woman who wasn't the most faithful minister's wife ever.
Her unfortunate tale begins with her birth, when she is born with green skin, teeth so sharp she bites her own skin, and an aversion to water. Her mother turns to herbal drugs, and her missionary father believes that Elphaba's condition is somehow his fault.
The only stable figure is really Elphaba's mother's former nanny, who comes to take care of the little green girl. Elphaba's childhood is defined by her father's missionary work in Quadling country, the poorest section of Oz, and a far cry from the upper class of Munchinland to which her mother was born. Maguire picks up the story when Elphaba is older, and a new student at Shiz, the university of Oz.
The university is divided into all-male and all-female colleges, and Elphaba ends up rooming with the very snobby Galinda, much to Galinda's dismay. Elphaba quickly becomes suspicious of the headmistress, Madame Morrible, and after an Animal the walking, talking, intelligent versions, much like the Cowardly Lion professor dies under mysterious circumstances, Elphaba finagles an audience with the Wizard for herself and Galinda, where she quickly realizes that the Wizard is not the paternalistic ruler he was believed to be.
Elphaba sends Galinda back to Shiz and begins a life of resistance, first on behalf of the Animals, then with a life in a convent or mauntery, as they call it , and finally ends up in the land of the Vinkus, where she creates her famed winged monkeys, begins to dabble in sorcery, and her story intersects with the story of Dorothy that we all grew up with.
Politics, Social Classes, Despots Just Like Real Life Trying to sum up the various plots in Wicked is impossible, and I feel impotent even attempting it. Maguire has created an incredible character and the book will leave you unable to watch the movie the same way again. Not only has he created a rich and sympathetic character in Elphaba, but he has also created a world that seems so real that every time I had to put the book down to do something else I felt as if I was being jolted from one world to another.
While at times it might seem as if Maguire is leaving too much out, jumping as he does from one period in Elphaba's life to another, he has chosen the most significant points to focus on; each set of experiences is one that would have shaped the woman who became known as the Wicked Witch of the West.
The hardest part of reading Wicked is knowing how it is going to end.
From the start, you know that Elphaba is doomed; that she will die at Dorothy's hand, and nothing will change that. Still, even knowing this, you find yourself hoping against hope that Maguire will change the story and find a loophole for Elphaba, that she won't truly die, but live on, fighting the corrupt Wizard and everything he has created.
This Isn't Broadway For those introduced to the softer side of Elphaba through the Broadway show of the same name, the novel will probably be a huge surprise. It would have been impossible to condense all the political intrigue and vast cast of characters in the novel into a musical, and many of the plot devices were oversimplified, including the love affair between Elphaba and Fiyero.
While I love the show, the book has a much greater depth than the musical, and requires more of the reader than the audience member. Wicked is one of the best novels I've read in a long, long time. I find myself reading it over again, still hoping that Elphaba can be saved, and still getting lost in the world of Oz as Maguire sees it. This is a book not to be missed, and I guarantee that you'll never view blue gingham and ruby slippers the same way again.
I originally downloadd this CD with the intent that it would be suitable as the audio book for my car pool with a teenager. I'd recommend to preview if you intend this book to be for a Young Adult or to listen to it in mixed company as again, our family found it to be more racy than we had expected. Very interesting perspective. Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, was painfully misunderstood and rejected by the color of her skin, as well as her unconventional manners rather than actually wicked.
In this unique book, she grew to become an Animal rights advocate and more of a guerrilla. Her "cause" was not that unjustified in a world of vastly crooked politics, yet she faces a bitter end. Quite an allegory, this story. For a mature audience, however, and not recommended for kids. Among the best books I have ever read. A discussion of good and evil in an alternate but not completely unfamiliar universe, the story is complex, many-layered and very funny. It touches on both the value and the absurdity of families, communities, and politics.
The conversation at the dinner table in Elphaba's former school of Shiz after the "murder" of Madame Morrible is worth the attention of those interested in philosophy and theology.
Wicked: Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
Gregory Maguire's writing is superb throughout. I will read it many times, I think, just for this kind of fun: Mass Market Paperback Verified download. Then at a Facebook page dedicated to discussion about the Musical, someone recommended this book actually the series. I'm not sure if I wish i had seen the show first, or read the book first, but I am enjoying it these few chapters in and look forward to continuing with the other books in the series.
This is my first time to download from this seller, and I was very pleased with the arrival time and the quality of the formerly owned book.
Any of you who are Elphaba fans will, I believe, enjoy the book. Even before it got so popular in the Philippines, I've been fascinated by stories which show the other side of the tale so when I reas the plot etc, I ordered Gregory Maguire's Wicked, Son of a Witch, Mirror Mirror, and Lost. They were hardbound and were among my most priceless possessions. But termites infested that side of our condo. And before we moved, I was extremely grieved to see that the termite had such expensive tastes!
I was so sad and disappointed but couldnt do anything about it. So when hubby got me my Kindle, I immediately bought the Wicked book for it. It isn't the same as holding the actual book and rifling the pages but the story iz still as great as it was. Am thinking of redownloading the books over site actually. Just hope the shipping and taxes don't kill me! See all 3, reviews. site Giveaway allows you to run promotional giveaways in order to create buzz, reward your audience, and attract new followers and customers.
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site Payment Products. English Choose a language for shopping. Word Wise: Enhanced Typesetting:Gifting of the Kindle edition at the Kindle MatchBook price is not available. There's a problem loading this menu right now. She imagined it was the child inside her, humming for happiness. She pushed herself up, trying to see over the rise of her belly.
They bend at the waist, they dance and dawdle and dally with each other. The dog bounced on a spring, and the pitch of its chatter was annoyingly high. This panders to your basest instincts! She let the lid close with a bang and affected a position of prayer, eyes closed.
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