"I invite you to listen to this exciting tale and find out!" — Phil Chenevert literally ends his own book description like a grandpa tucking you in. And honestly? That energy is exactly what this audiobook is.
I wasn't planning to listen to the sixth Oz book. I was sick last Thursday — one of those "I'm not dying but I'm not going to work" colds where you just lie on the couch wrapped in Kevin's hoodie and scroll through your library looking for something that requires zero cognitive effort. Something that won't punish you for zoning out for three minutes while you blow your nose. The Emerald City of Oz at just under six hours? Perfect sick-day listen.
Your Brain on Oz (At 102°F)
Here's the thing about Baum's Oz books that I'd forgotten since I was maybe eight: they're structured like a dual-threaded program running two completely independent processes that only converge at the very end. Thread A is the Gnome King (Roquat, who literally eats rocks and holds grudges like a senior engineer who got passed over for promotion) assembling an army of Whimsies, Growleywogs, and Phanfasms to tunnel under the desert and invade Oz. Thread B is Dorothy giving Aunt Em and Uncle Henry the grand tour of Oz's weirdest municipalities — and I mean weird. A city where everyone is literally a jigsaw puzzle piece and if you bump into them they fall apart. A town of living paper dolls who are terrified of rain. Bunnybury, which is exactly what it sounds like, complete with rabbit class politics.
The two threads don't interact for most of the book. It's like watching a disaster movie cross-cut with a travel vlog. And somehow it works? The invasion plot gives you just enough stakes to keep listening, while the tour episodes are pure early-1900s imagination fuel — the kind of stuff that would've absolutely destroyed my eight-year-old brain.
But let's be real: the tour chapters are episodic and low-stakes in a way that modern fantasy would never attempt. Each one is basically "they arrive, they're amazed, something mildly inconvenient happens, Ozma's magic fixes it, they leave." If you're coming from Sanderson or even Pratchett, this will feel like a children's picture book minus the pictures. Which — yeah, that's what it is. 1910 children's literature. Calibrate accordingly.
Phil Chenevert's Living Room Energy
This is a LibriVox recording, so let's set expectations: you're not getting Ray Porter. (I know. I'm sorry. I bring him up too much. Kevin has pointed this out.) What you're getting with Phil Chenevert is a guy who clearly loves these books and reads them with genuine warmth and enthusiasm. He's not doing distinct character voices so much as he's doing narrator-who-is-enjoying-himself, and for this material? That's the right call.
That same unhurried warmth carries his sci-fi reading of Mr. Spaceship, even though the material is a world away from Oz.His pacing is steady — almost metronomic — which actually helped on my sick day because it functioned like a warm audio blanket. He doesn't rush. He doesn't do dramatic pauses for effect. He reads with the cadence of someone reading aloud to a kid at bedtime, and for a book about paper doll cities and bunny kingdoms, that tracks.
The audio quality is decent for LibriVox — no distracting room noise or sudden volume spikes that I noticed. It's clean, if not polished. You're not going to get sound effects or production flourishes. Just Phil and his microphone, doing his thing.
I bumped this to 1.25x and it felt natural. At 1.5x (my usual), his steady rhythm started to feel a bit rushed in a way that undercut the cozy vibe.
The Ending Deserves Its Own Paragraph
Baum apparently intended this to be the last Oz book. He literally has Glinda seal Oz off from the outside world and says no more stories can come out. It's oddly emotional for a book that spent four hours touring silly towns — this sense that Baum is closing a door he loved. (Spoiler: he wrote eight more Oz books because his publisher and readers wouldn't let him stop. Relatable. Sometimes you can't kill your own service even when you want to.)
Who Should Queue This Up (And Who Shouldn't)
Perfect for: bedtime, sick days, background listening while doing something mindless. Also great if you have kids and want to introduce them to classic fantasy that isn't Disney-fied.
When I want this same bedtime energy in a shorter dose, I reach for Little Wizard Stories of Oz.Skip for: anyone expecting modern fantasy pacing, complex character arcs, or production value. This is a free LibriVox recording of a 115-year-old children's book. The ROI on this audiobook is measured in comfort, not challenge.
If you've read the original Wizard of Oz and wondered what happened next — this is where Baum tried to wrap it all up. Starting at the very beginning makes the payoff land harder, so Wonderful Wizard of Oz is worth queuing first. It's sweet, it's inventive in that weird early-20th-century way, and Phil Chenevert reads it like he's your favorite uncle.
Commute-Worthiness: Leave It on the Nightstand
TL;DR: Worth your time if you're in the right headspace — sick, sleepy, or nostalgic. Not worth a credit because it's free on LibriVox anyway. At six hours it's a perfect palate cleanser between heavier listens. Just don't expect it to keep you awake at 6AM on the Caltrain. It will absolutely put you to sleep. And sometimes that's the point.
