Sunday, 6 September 2015

Alice in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll



Lewis Carroll’s famous story for children takes us on a surreal journey into childish dream-landscapes, meeting mad characters and experiencing bizarre concepts and physics-bending mechanics along the way. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass are generally entertaining, but they rather lack rhyme or reason in terms of plot, narrative and structure. This is not inherently a bad thing, but for these children’s stories it means they can be a little bit of a slog to get through sometimes.

          In the second half of the 19th century Lewis Carroll (or Charles Dodgeson, to use his real name) wrote a couple of stories for his friend’s daughter, a little girl he had an arguably suspicious attachment to. Whatever the reasons for his ‘friendship’ with the real-life Alice – and it’s fairly certain Carroll would be lynched if he exhibited the same behaviour today – the literary output that was a result is generally regarded as a children’s classic. The two books, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There are of such similar calibre that they are generally confounded as part of one whole work. Film adaptations have made use of both stories, whilst reading one book and not the other seems like a waste of time. Most editions I’ve seen include both books, and as such I will be reviewing both of them here as one work.

          It begins with a child called Alice (Incidentally, the real-life Alice’s father, a certain George Henry Liddell, was largely responsible for helping to compile a very famous dictionary of Ancient Greek, but this is just a piece of trivial information) who, bored by her sister’s company, decides to follow a well-dressed white rabbit down its rabbit-hole. Tumbling into a weird little dream-like world, Alice finds herself lost and confused, her body contorted to peculiar shapes and sizes by eating and drinking suspect substances, while strange people and curious creatures sprout nonsense at her and act in a generally peculiar way. Okay, that doesn’t actually sound like a very nice, child-friendly story to me now that I say it like that. In the context of the story it’s all perfectly fine, and Alice herself never seems to be under any kind of threat. She is generally on top of the situation, and seems more or less in control of herself and the world around her. As far as protagonists go, she’s quite good at driving the story all by herself and at facing up to the lunacy she finds throughout the titular Wonderland. Maybe it’s alright as a children’s story after all.

          So after Alice wakes up and proves it-was-all-a-dream-after-all, she must then encounter another dream-world in the sequel. This second adventure, which takes place in a world on the other side of a mirror (the titular looking-glass), lands Alice in a giant and rather abstract game of chess. She must make her way from one side of the land to the other, with the promise that she will become a queen when she arrives at her destination. In many ways this second story feels substantially more dream-like than its prequel, for scenes and landscapes suddenly change from one thing to another, characters completely alter their outward forms in the blink of an eye (a Queen becomes a sheep, for instance), and at one point Alice finds herself running along as fast as she can but making no progress whatsoever. Like the first story this one has little that can be described as a plot, but the more believably dream-like nature of the story makes it just an ounce more interesting to read. If I had to pick a preference between the two, I’d have to choose Through the Looking-Glass for this arbitrary reason.

          Interspersed throughout the narrative are a number of short nonsense poems, playful little rhyming stanzas that demonstrate Carroll’s affinity for the entertainingly ludicrous. The legendary poem ‘Jabberwocky’ is featured in the early pages of Through the Looking-Glass, but this is just one of many such verses that can be found in the Alice books. Here is a taster:
          “’Tis the voice of the Lobster’, I heard him declare,
          ‘You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.’
          As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
          Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
          When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
          And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark:
          But, when the tide rises and the sharks are around,
          His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.”
[L. Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Wordsworth, 1992. pg. 87]
          You see? We all need a bit more of that in our lives. Generally they are fun little diversions, and to see the characters’ confusion over saying or hearing these words of nonsense is where the novels are at their best.

          Any severe criticisms? Besides the lack of appeal to any who are not prepared to read a fairly nonsensical story, I suppose I could also offer a warning about the language register. Being Victorian, sometimes the language can come across a little old-fashioned – I’m not sure if children would find this a hindrance at all. In many ways this only ends up with the book feeling quaint, rather than inaccessible. It’s far from being Jane Austen, so it should be all right. 

So then, my original criticism stands; that the stories just don’t go anywhere. They serve only to dump Alice and the reader into the middle of a mad world, so that she can interact with a few dozen lunatics in weird situations over the course of a hundred pages, until it’s time to wake up and close the book. It’s worth reading for the poems at least, and to have ‘Jabberwocky’ deconstructed and explained by Humpty Dumpty is as good a reason as any for delving into these things. At any rate they’re on the list, so you should totally have read by now; and if not, then what are you waiting for? Do it now! I shouldn’t have to tell you again.

Biblioland
Carroll, Lewis. Alice in Wonderland. Wordsworth: Ware. (1992 [First published 1865 {1871 for Through the Looking-Glass}])

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