Alice has never been a favourite of mine. I read both Wonderland and Through The Looking Glass for the first time in my late twenties (in the 1970s they were part of the hippy-ish must reads) but remained largely unmoved by them. Re-reading later on, and older, I could only see them for what they seemed to be to me - a jumble of games and non-rules and oddness. The anarchy disturbed me but I admired Alice for her constant attempts to control such a chaotic environment and her open refusal to be discumbobulated by it all, trying to be logical amongst the illogical. People I've discussed my reading of Alice with accuse me of missing so much and give me pitying looks, whilst I simply can't see what I'm missing! I enjoyed reading this, Henry (if I may), and thank you.
One of the things we discussed in the book club was that the books aren’t quite as wonderful as you remember them as. Something about the relentless invention is wearing perhaps? I enjoy them but I sympathise worth your perspective--it is a jumble of games!
I enjoyed this very much, Henry. Thanks for putting it all together.
I especially like that idea of the book as a game to be played with. And maybe a Great Exhibition to be explored? I am a little curious (curiouser and curiouser) about how you juxtapose interpretation and play – since I've always thought of interpretation as a kind of play. The game of making meaning that any reader does when they pick up a story. When you use the word interpretation, do you mean a sort of rigid reading: this book means X, it is an analogy for Y?
There's a quote I like from Alan Garner:
"A novel is a mechanism for generating interpretations. If interpretation is limited to what the writer "meant", the creative opportunity has been missed. Each reading should be a unique meeting, leading to a new interpretation."
Which is to say, there are as many versions of Alice as there are readers. I'd be curious to know your thoughts!
I'm going to write about this issue more broadly. In short, I don't quite agree because knowledge of literature is possible and much interpretive play ignores that knowledge or misreads it. Meaning is more than a game.
I'll leave you with this from Samuel Johnson:
It is, however, the task of criticism to establish principles; to improve opinion into knowledge; and to distinguish those means of pleasing which depend upon known causes and rational deduction, from the nameless and inexplicable elegancies which appeal wholly to the fancy, from which we feel delight, but know not how they produce it, and which may well be termed the enchantresses of the soul. Criticism reduces those regions of literature under the dominion of science, which have hitherto known only the anarchy of ignorance, the caprices of fancy, and the tyranny of prescription.
Thanks for replying Henry, I'll look out for that!
It sounds like I'm at odds with Samuel Johnson on this one: I think there's a place for misreading in reading, and a little caprice. I don't think critics should or can gatekeep stories, and readers will do all kinds of surprising things with the text, either from ignorance or from a knowledge they have which is unique to them. That seems to me to be a fundamental part of the adventure of reading.
Of course, I don't disagree with that at all. I didn't argue for gatekeeping. I am distinguishing between reader response and criticism. It is possible to be wrong about literature. These are real books, full of real words, that mean real things.. Many interpretations are more to do with the person than the book and it is a disservice to readers who want to learn about the book to offer those interpretations as equally valid with true knowledge of a text. Ignorance cannot be so easily elided if we really want to understand literature rather than simply react to it...Some misreadings are strong, some are weak.
Ah true! Maybe I'm just in favour of strong misreadings – I like that. As guides, we shouldn't mislead or deceive other readers. But we can encourage a creative engagement with the book.
Oh perhaps we disagree on what is meant by knowledge as well! Fascinating. I do think the reader brings their own knowledge to the text, of which the author and their characters may be ignorant. Perhaps we will just disagree on the usefulness of that play of interpretation, which is fair enough.
Alice has never been a favourite of mine. I read both Wonderland and Through The Looking Glass for the first time in my late twenties (in the 1970s they were part of the hippy-ish must reads) but remained largely unmoved by them. Re-reading later on, and older, I could only see them for what they seemed to be to me - a jumble of games and non-rules and oddness. The anarchy disturbed me but I admired Alice for her constant attempts to control such a chaotic environment and her open refusal to be discumbobulated by it all, trying to be logical amongst the illogical. People I've discussed my reading of Alice with accuse me of missing so much and give me pitying looks, whilst I simply can't see what I'm missing! I enjoyed reading this, Henry (if I may), and thank you.
One of the things we discussed in the book club was that the books aren’t quite as wonderful as you remember them as. Something about the relentless invention is wearing perhaps? I enjoy them but I sympathise worth your perspective--it is a jumble of games!
I enjoyed this very much, Henry. Thanks for putting it all together.
I especially like that idea of the book as a game to be played with. And maybe a Great Exhibition to be explored? I am a little curious (curiouser and curiouser) about how you juxtapose interpretation and play – since I've always thought of interpretation as a kind of play. The game of making meaning that any reader does when they pick up a story. When you use the word interpretation, do you mean a sort of rigid reading: this book means X, it is an analogy for Y?
There's a quote I like from Alan Garner:
"A novel is a mechanism for generating interpretations. If interpretation is limited to what the writer "meant", the creative opportunity has been missed. Each reading should be a unique meeting, leading to a new interpretation."
Which is to say, there are as many versions of Alice as there are readers. I'd be curious to know your thoughts!
I'm going to write about this issue more broadly. In short, I don't quite agree because knowledge of literature is possible and much interpretive play ignores that knowledge or misreads it. Meaning is more than a game.
I'll leave you with this from Samuel Johnson:
It is, however, the task of criticism to establish principles; to improve opinion into knowledge; and to distinguish those means of pleasing which depend upon known causes and rational deduction, from the nameless and inexplicable elegancies which appeal wholly to the fancy, from which we feel delight, but know not how they produce it, and which may well be termed the enchantresses of the soul. Criticism reduces those regions of literature under the dominion of science, which have hitherto known only the anarchy of ignorance, the caprices of fancy, and the tyranny of prescription.
Thanks for replying Henry, I'll look out for that!
It sounds like I'm at odds with Samuel Johnson on this one: I think there's a place for misreading in reading, and a little caprice. I don't think critics should or can gatekeep stories, and readers will do all kinds of surprising things with the text, either from ignorance or from a knowledge they have which is unique to them. That seems to me to be a fundamental part of the adventure of reading.
Of course, I don't disagree with that at all. I didn't argue for gatekeeping. I am distinguishing between reader response and criticism. It is possible to be wrong about literature. These are real books, full of real words, that mean real things.. Many interpretations are more to do with the person than the book and it is a disservice to readers who want to learn about the book to offer those interpretations as equally valid with true knowledge of a text. Ignorance cannot be so easily elided if we really want to understand literature rather than simply react to it...Some misreadings are strong, some are weak.
Ah true! Maybe I'm just in favour of strong misreadings – I like that. As guides, we shouldn't mislead or deceive other readers. But we can encourage a creative engagement with the book.
Under my model you seem to favour weak misreading. Strong misreadings are based in knowledge, as opposed to the play of interpretation.
Oh perhaps we disagree on what is meant by knowledge as well! Fascinating. I do think the reader brings their own knowledge to the text, of which the author and their characters may be ignorant. Perhaps we will just disagree on the usefulness of that play of interpretation, which is fair enough.