Alice in Wonderland - Carroll E-Book

Lewis Carroll

• Herausgeber: Lebooks Editora
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 140

Beschreibung

The story of Alice in Wonderland came to its author in 1862 when Lewis Carroll was boating on the River Thames with his young friend Alice Pleasance Liddell (who was 10 years old at the time) and her two sisters, all three being the daughters of the Christ Church dean. He began telling a story that eventually evolved into the current one, about a girl named Alice who finds herself in a fantastic world after falling down a rabbit hole. The real-life Alice enjoyed the story so much that she asked Carroll to write it down. Thus, this literary classic was born. Alice in Wonderland is a rare case of a book originally written for children that also became a huge success among adults, likely due to its literary quality, intelligent dialogue, wordplay, riddles, and puns, and most importantly, the wise messages that emerge throughout the text. It is a timeless classic that one should not miss reading at some point in life.

Leseprobe

Lewis Carroll

Alice´s Adventures in Wonderland

Contents

INTRODUCTION

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

CHAPTER I. - DOWN THE RABBIT-HOLE.

CHAPTER II. - THE POOL OF TEARS.

CHAPTER III. - A CAUCUS-RACE AND A LONG TALE

CHAPTER IV. - THE RABBIT SENDS IN A LITTLE BILL.

HAPTER V. - ADVICE FROM A CATERPILLAR.

CHAPTER VI. - PIG AND PEPPER,

CHAPTER VII. - A MAD TEA-PARTY.

CHAPTER VIII. THE QUEEN’S CROQUET-GROUND.

CHAPTER IX. - THE MOCK TURTLE S STORY.

CHAPTER X. - THE LOBSTER QUADRILLE.

CHAPTER XI. - WHO STOLE THE TARTS?

CHAPTER XII. - ALICE’S EVIDENCE.

INTRODUCTION

Lewis Carroll

1832-1898

Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, better known by his pen name Lewis Carroll, was an English author, poet, mathematician and photographer. His most notable works are Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865) and its sequel Through the Looking-Glass (1871). He was noted for his facility with word play, logic, and fantasy. His poems Jabberwocky (1871) and The Hunting of the Snark (1876) are classified in the genre of literary nonsense.

Carroll came from a family of high-church Anglicans, and developed a long relationship with Christ Church, Oxford, where he lived for most of his life as a scholar and teacher. Alice Liddell – a daughter of Henry Liddell, the Dean of Christ Church – is widely identified as the original inspiration for Alice in Wonderland, though Carroll always denied this.

An avid puzzler, Carroll created the word ladder puzzle (which he then called "Doublets"), which he published in his weekly column for Vanity Fair magazine between 1879 and 1881. In 1982 a memorial stone to Carroll was unveiled at Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey. There are societies in many parts of the world dedicated to the enjoyment and promotion of his works.

Literature

From a young age, Dodgson wrote poetry and short stories, contributing heavily to the family magazine Mischmasch and later sending them to various magazines, enjoying moderate success. Between 1854 and 1856, his work appeared in the national publications The Comic Times and The Train, as well as smaller magazines such as the Whitby Gazette and the Oxford Critic. Most of this output was humorous, sometimes satirical, but his standards and ambitions were exacting. "I do not think I have yet written anything worthy of real publication (in which I do not include the Whitby Gazette or the Oxonian Advertiser), but I do not despair of doing so someday," he wrote in July 1855. Sometime after 1850, he did write puppet plays for his siblings' entertainment, of which one has survived: La Guida di Bragia.

In March 1856, he published his first piece of work under the name that would make him famous. A romantic poem called "Solitude" appeared in The Train under the authorship of "Lewis Carroll". This pseudonym was a play on his real name: Lewis was the anglicized form of Ludovicus, which was the Latin for Lutwidge, and Carroll an Irish surname similar to the Latin name Carolus, from which comes the name Charles. The transition went as follows: "Charles Lutwidge" translated into Latin as "Carolus Ludovicus". This was then translated back into English as "Carroll Lewis" and then reversed to make "Lewis Carroll". This pseudonym was chosen by editor Edmund Yates from a list of four submitted by Dodgson, the others being Edgar Cuthwellis, Edgar U. C. Westhill, and Louis Carroll.

Later years

Dodgson's existence remained little changed over the last twenty years of his life, despite his growing wealth and fame. He continued to teach at Christ Church until 1881 and remained in residence there until his death. Public appearances included attending the West End musical Alice in Wonderland (the first major live production of his Alice books) at the Prince of Wales Theatre on 30 December 1886. The two volumes of his last novel, Sylvie and Bruno, were published in 1889 and 1893, but the intricacy of this work was apparently not appreciated by contemporary readers; it achieved nothing like the success of the Alice books, with disappointing reviews and sales of only 13,000 copies.

The only known occasion on which he travelled abroad was a trip to Russia in 1867 as an ecclesiastic, together with the Reverend Henry Liddon. He recounts the travel in his "Russian Journal", which was first commercially published in 1935. On his way to Russia and back, he also saw different cities in Belgium, Germany, partitioned Poland, and France.

In his early sixties, Dodgson increasingly suffered from synovitis which eventually prevented him walking and sometimes left him bed-ridden for months.

Death

Dodgson died of pneumonia following influenza on 14 January 1898 at his sisters' home, "The Chestnuts", in Guildford in the county of Surrey, just four days before the death of Henry Liddell. He was two weeks away from turning 66 years old. His funeral was held at the nearby St Mary's Church.[91] His body was buried at the Mount Cemetery in Guildford.

He is commemorated at All Saints' Church, Daresbury, in its stained glass windows depicting characters from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, erected in 1935.

About the Work

Completely familiar as an integral part of our culture, Alice's journey through the rabbit hole is a children's book containing fantastic satire, wordplay, and enough comedy to satisfy any adult audience. In fact, the surrealist André Breton wrote about Alice that here the "accommodation to the absurd readmits adults to the mysterious domain inhabited by children." Far from belittling children, the book is positively educational for bored adults. Published in 1865, the same year as the damned Cantos of Maldoror by Lautreamont, and A Season in Hell by Rimbaud, Alice may be a radically English and refined journey into a dream landscape, but it lacks a dark side.

Napping on the banks of the River Isis, Alice, a 7-year-old girl, sees the White Rabbit in a waistcoat consulting his watch nervously and decides to follow him down the rabbit hole. As she follows the punctual rabbit, she encounters a series of strange situations. By sipping potions and nibbling mushrooms, she grows and shrinks, from the size of a mouse to the size of a house, or her neck stretches like a snake. She encounters characters already deeply entrenched in our imagination: the Mouse, leaping in the "Pool of Tears," whose story is typographically presented as a tail; the Caterpillar smoking its hookah; the dreadful Duchess, cradling a pig; the Cheshire Cat whose broad grin disappears; the Mad Hatter and the March Hare drinking tea and stuffing the Dormouse into a teapot; the murderous Queen of Hearts, playing croquet with flamingos as mallets; and the sorrowful Mock Turtle, who teaches her the Lobster Quadrille. Always naive, Alice attempts to confront madness with logic, in a story that lightly pokes at the insensitive puritanism of Victorian bourgeois child-rearing.

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

CHAPTER I. - DOWN THE RABBIT-HOLE.

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “ and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or conversations? ”

So she was considering in her own mind, (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid,) whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a white rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, “ Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late! ” (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a ■watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waist-coat-pocket or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down what seemed to be a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything: then she looked at the sides of the well and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and bookshelves: here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled “ORANGE MARMALADE,” but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody underneath, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

“Well!” thought Alice to herself, “after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling downstairs! How brave they ’ll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn’t say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!” (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end ? “ I wonder how many miles I Ve fallen by this time ? ” she said aloud. “ I must be getting somewhere near the center of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think—” (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) “— yes, that’s about the right distance — but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I’ve got to?” (Alice had not the slightest idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but she thought they were nice grand words to say.)

Presently she began again. “ I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downwards! The Antipathies, I think— “(she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn’t sound at all the right word)” — but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma’am, is this New Zealand or Australia? ” (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke — fancy curtseying as you’re falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) “And what an ignorant little girl she’ll think me for asking! No, it’ll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.”

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. “Dinah ’ll miss me very much to-night, I should think!” (Dinah was the cat.) “I hope they’ll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah, my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I’m afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that’s very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?” And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, “ Do cats eat bats ? Do cats eat bats ? ” and sometimes, “Do bats eat cats?” for, you see, as she couldn’t answer either question, it didn’t much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and was saying to her very earnestly, “Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?” when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, “Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting! ” She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked, and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it but a tiny golden key, and Alice’s first idea was that this might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head though the doorway; “and even if my head would go through,” thought poor Alice, “it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only knew how to begin.” For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (“which certainly was not here before,” said Alice,) and tied round the neck of the bottle was a paper label with the words “DRINK ME” beautifully printed on it in large letters.

It was all very well to say “Drink me,” but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry: “no, I’ll look first,” she said, “ and see whether it’s marked ‘poison’ or not:” for she had read several nice little stories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts, and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them, such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked “poison,” it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

However, this bottle was not marked “poison,” so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavor of cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffy, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

“What a curious feeling!” said Alice, “I must lie shutting up like a telescope.”