"Wicked" - Rewilding to Love Fiercely in the Land of Oz
- Laura A. Weber
- Nov 12
- 6 min read
"It's just for the first time, I feel... wicked." (the exotic beauty, Elphaba, "As Long As You're Mine," by Stephen Schwartz, from the musical Wicked)
The line is spoken by the notorious Wicked Witch in a tender love scene. Fans of Wicked know Elphaba, far from embodying moral degeneracy, is the heroic crusader for justice for Oz's more-than-human animal realm. She is fiercely defending the wider "We" of the Land of Oz.
There's more than one meaning of "wicked," i.e., something that is pure evil, or describing self-seeking, nefarious intent to cause harm. There's also the slang form of "wicked" as "awesome," a truly amazing sense of feeling wonderful, or sheer intensity. A wicked euphoria! Dual meanings of the word "wicked" play throughout the beloved musical based on Gregory Maguire's dystopian Wicked, The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West.
In Maguire's book, the question of wickedness and the problem of evil is deconstructed and rearranged along the arc of a politics of power and oppression. Elphaba's declaration that she feels "wicked" means trying on her moniker in a new way, rising above the gravitas of public vilification, defying those in authority who have portrayed her as depraved. She redefines "wicked" by Rewilding herself, leaping fearlessly into the realm of Love. It is because she resonates so profoundly with what's untamed or wild within and around her that her compassion and moral outrage flare when injustice strikes the innocent.
She's in good company; you know the ones. They're often prophetic voices, speaking Truth to power. They overturn things and cause upheaval. They are castigated as "wicked" or evil because they defend those despised by the powerful who fear a loss of control. Pitiful tyrants screaming, "Look over there!" to conceal their own misdeeds while trampling the defenseless underfoot.
People and world-views are more complex and nuanced than they seem on the surface. Take Glinda.
Elphie's flawless and somewhat hapless roomie, the ultra Pop-U-Lar Glinda the "Good," bursts her own bubble of self-absorbed delusion in relationship with her nemesis-turned-Soul-Friend. When compassion and intimacy with Elphaba teach her to love beyond herself, Glinda is changed "For Good" by association with her erstwhile wicked friend. Her compassion, at first self-motivated, is ultimately transformed.
Similarly, the dashing Fiyero finds his superficial facade shattered by his passion for a green-skinned outcast with exotic allure. His compassion stirs with the exile of Doctor Dillamond, a sentient caprine History Professor, and a terrified, nameless Lion Cub, caged and beaten into submission. Villains are also complex. A treacherous mentor, Madame Morrible, is a power-seeking sycophant, destructive, capricious, and perhaps sinister beyond redemption. Was wickedness thrust upon her? And the Wonderful Wizard of Oz - heralded sage and savior - is a maniacal fraud who lies. What's his story? Sound familiar?
"Are people born wicked, or is wickedness thrust upon them?" a child asks Glinda when her friend, the Wicked Witch, had been destroyed. An innocent and potent question. Questions are the beginning of wisdom. When bad things happen, we often ask questions. And we must keep asking - loudly.
"Something bad is happening in Oz." Why? Elphaba knew when the creatures, and especially her favorite teachers, were being silenced, exiled, and slaughtered at the behest of the great and powerful that something bad was happening over the rainbow.
We could say the same of our own kin-dom, our common home. Earth is in crisis. Our planet is in peril from those who secure the mirage of unlimited economic growth, trash the planet, blame it on a "green scam" perpetrated by evil, "stupid people," and concoct schemes to create unlimited wealth and power at the expense of all living being. The United Nations General Assembly was told one day before the U.N. Climate Summit that the idea of a "carbon footprint is a hoax made up by people with evil intentions, and they’re heading down a path of total destruction.” Our creature-kin, the wider "We" of the biosphere are being silenced, exiled, and slaughtered. We can hear their cries of suffering. Something bad is happening in Earth. We've reached a point of no return when we are morally compelled to care for our common home, our magical ruby slippers sodden with the blood of all our kin.
The United Nations' COP 30, the forum for global climate dialogue and action, is just beginning in Belém, Brasil this month, an ongoing conversation to continue the work of the Paris Agreement, the Kyoto Protocol, and the critical world dialogue about the fate of our imperiled planet. It is a global context where we ask profound questions, where fierce love leads to lifting the veil of ignorance and self-delusion about the arc of power and oppression. It raises questions that terrified wizards hiding behind solipsistic curtains refuse to address for fear of the Elphabas among us.
Fly, Elphie! Fly!
Where does the Magic come from? The Grimmerie, that ancient book of spells? No. That is just a catalyst and a medium. We might think of it as the power of the Word, or as our fully embodied presence as a medium for healing, forgiving, bestowing gifts, or giving strength. We might think of our catalyst as an intentional act of kindness, a peaceful protest, poetry, or prayer. It's a medium.
No, our real Magic comes from Rewilding, from tapping into our evolved animal instincts for the good of the whole. It's where our Power and Energy, our Life Force generates every day: from within. Love, compassion, moral courage, empathy, desire to protect, deep heartache, and overwhelming gratitude. Elphaba represents the heart of Rewilding, her powers most effective when enflamed by the needs and suffering around her. She's constantly looking around, seeing with a wider vision, a foil to Glinda's myopathy. Domesticated to behave and remain unnoticed, not causing scandal or shaking up the status quo, many of us avert our eyes from the suffering or the Mysterious within and around us, because waking up might stir the wildness into life. Yet, for the rest of our wild-kin, survival depends upon being aware of and tending to the wider "We." We must adapt to thrive in changing contexts, or to ward off threats that affect us all. We are at our best when Rewilding compels us to love fiercely.
Some would have us believe that compassion is absent for those on the margins, or the wider "We." There is strong evidence to the contrary. In the land of America, where Oz-like leadership reneges on our legally binding commitment in Paris at COP 21, refuses to participate in a critical international dialogue like COP 30, destroys our National Parks, and denies the existence of climate change as destructive of life in the biosphere, we hear a different story. Over 80% of Americans are concerned about the environment, the welfare of animals, and the ethical imperative of conserving Nature. And an astounding 70% think Nature is paramount in government decision-making. (source) Representational leadership that ignores the will of the people? Who's wicked here?
It's not just the transcendentalists like Thoreau and Emerson who raised a cry of outrage at Earth's decimation. Environmentalists like Leopold, Muir, Carson, Wilson, Goodall, Macy, Thunberg, and others have unmasked the artifice of untrustworthy leaders bent on planetary destruction. It's also just ordinary people who march, protest, make calls, write letters, and put themselves at risk for the good of the whole. Many people who are wickedly brave and compassionate are speaking out and acting to defend the voiceless and to acknowledge the rights and dignity of our more-than-human kin.
When we Rewild ourselves, embracing our humanity as a fragile strand in the web of life, we begin to ask tough questions. We exercise compassion. We defend what we love. We champion the voiceless. We expose the Wizard as a fraud. We join forces to protect the most vulnerable. We speak up and act out of compassion, out of our myopic boundaries. We leap. We fly fiercely into Love. We defy gravity.
And we feel... wicked.
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