Wonder is Really Nothing
‘As we lie down to sleep the world turns half away
Through ninety dark degrees.’
- Elizabeth Bishop
GK Chesterton said that nonsense was the literature of the future. There is no better proponent than Charles Lutwidge Dodgson writing as Lewis Carroll, no greater triumphs of nonsense than the Alices. Carroll insisted his books ‘meant nothing,’ made no sense.
Still, you know, words mean more than we mean to express when we use them; so a whole book ought to mean a great deal more than the writer means. So whatever good meanings are in the book, I’m glad to accept as the meaning of the book.1
Alice, according to Carroll, was intended to be ‘trustful, ready to accept the wildest impossibilities with all that utter trust that only dreamers know.’ Carroll’s dream story is one with loops, entanglements, and passages that lead to nothing. It was essentially a new way of writing dreams: while Jonathan Swift took pains to explain everything, and Shakespeare carefully laid the groundwork for what was to come in his midsummer capers, Carroll offered no explanations whatsoever. Alice follows a rabbit straight down a hole and is in Wonderland, a space where you open doors with keys only to find more doors, games are played with animate objects, and events repeat ad infinitum.