I’ve been reading a bit about Lewis Carroll lately, and every time I dig a little deeper into the mythology surrounding the author of “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, I’m consistently struck with a sense of foreboding — like not all was right when it came to the circumstances of his inspiration for the book, and his relationship with the family who shared his company. The Liddells, in particular, and Alice, who inspired the stories of a little Victorian girl of the same name, who follows an anthropomorphized white rabbit into a magical world with hallucinatory and sometimes violent delights.
Unsettling. All of it.
It’s for that reason our Alice Liddell is a little imperfect herself.