Audiobook Sample
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- Title: Wicked: Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
- Author: Gregory Maguire
- Narrator: John McDonough
- Length: 19:40:00
- Version: Abridged
- Release Date: 16/11/2005
- Publisher: Recorded Books
- Genre: Fiction & Literature, General
- ISBN13: 9.78E+12
There’s a particular magic that happens when an audiobook narrator becomes the voice inside your head – when their timbre and cadence become inseparable from the story itself. This was my experience listening to John McDonough’s masterful narration of Gregory Maguire’s “Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West”, a revelation that came to me while driving through the misty highlands of Guatemala, where the line between reality and fantasy feels as thin as the mountain air.
Maguire’s reimagining of Oz struck me with the same force as when I first heard Gabriel García Márquez’s works while traversing Latin America. Like those magical realist tales, “Wicked” peels back the shiny veneer of a familiar story (in this case, “The Wizard of Oz”) to reveal the complex, often contradictory truths beneath. McDonough’s narration captures this duality perfectly – his voice carries both the whimsy of fairy tales and the gravitas of political allegory.
The story unfolds like a richly woven textile from one of the indigenous markets I’ve explored in my travels. We meet Elphaba (the future Wicked Witch) not as a green-skinned villain, but as a misunderstood child born into a world that fears difference. Maguire’s Oz is no Technicolor paradise, but a land rife with racial tensions, political machinations, and religious hypocrisy. Listening to McDonough navigate these layers, I was reminded of those evenings in Oaxaca where grandmothers would spin tales that were equal parts entertainment and social commentary.
McDonough’s performance is nothing short of alchemical. He gives Elphaba a voice that’s by turns vulnerable and defiant, making her transformation from awkward student to revolutionary figure feel inevitable yet heartbreaking. His Glinda captures all the bubbly charm and hidden steel of the Good Witch, while his Wizard channels folksy American hucksterism with disturbing authenticity. The audio production enhances the experience – I could practically hear the rustle of the Witch’s black robes or the creak of the Yellow Brick Road underfoot.
What makes this audiobook exceptional is how it plays with perspective, much like the shifting viewpoints I’ve encountered in my travels. The same events that seem heroic in Baum’s original become morally ambiguous here. A childhood incident involving a magical pair of shoes becomes a devastating commentary on exploitation. The Wizard’s regime mirrors any number of real-world dictatorships I’ve reported on, where oppression hides behind a smile and a slogan.
Maguire’s prose is lush and philosophical, which could overwhelm in less capable hands. But McDonough finds the perfect rhythm – letting the lyrical passages sing while grounding the political theorizing in emotional truth. His pacing during key scenes (Elphaba’s first encounter with the Wizard, the tragic conclusion at Kiamo Ko) had me pulling over to my roadside just to absorb the full impact.
The audiobook isn’t without its challenges. At nearly 20 hours, it requires commitment, and some listeners might find Maguire’s dense world-building overwhelming in audio form. There were moments when I wished for a PDF companion to reference the intricate political factions of Oz. Yet these are minor quibbles in what is otherwise a transformative listening experience.
For those familiar with the musical adaptation, this original novel offers a darker, more nuanced exploration of its themes. Where the stage version focuses on female friendship, the book delves deeper into questions of destiny, free will, and the nature of evil. It’s to McDonough’s credit that he makes these weighty themes feel as intimate as a campfire confession.
As someone who’s spent a career seeking out stories that challenge preconceptions, I found “Wicked” to be that rare audiobook that both entertains and transforms. It’s ruined me in the best possible way – I’ll never watch “The Wizard of Oz” the same way again. Much like my travels have taught me that every place contains multitudes, Maguire and McDonough show us that every story depends on who’s telling it – and who’s willing to listen.
May your journeys – both literary and literal – always lead you to deeper truths,
Marcus Rivera
