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    Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

    Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

    4.0 355

    by Lewis Carroll, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson


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    Lewis Carroll, was an English writer, mathematician, logician, Anglican deacon, and photographer.

    Brief Biography

    Date of Birth:
    January 27, 1832
    Date of Death:
    January 14, 1898
    Place of Birth:
    Daresbury, Cheshire, England
    Place of Death:
    Guildford, Surrey, England
    Education:
    Richmond School, Christ Church College, Oxford University, B.A., 1854; M.A., 1857
    Website:
    http://www.lewis-carroll-birthplace.org.uk/

    Read an Excerpt

    Alice's Adventures in Wonderland


    By Lewis Carroll

    Oldcastle Books

    Copyright © 2015 Oldcastle Books Ltd
    All rights reserved.
    ISBN: 978-1-84344-400-8


    CHAPTER 1

    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 conversation?'

    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 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 waistcoat pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately 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 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 book-shelves; 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, 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 down stairs! 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 centre 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 no idea what latitude was, or longitude either, but 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 downward! 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 tonight, I should think!' (Dinah was the cat.) 'I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at teatime. 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 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 around 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 except a tiny golden key, and Alice's first thought was that it 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 through 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 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 histories 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 flavour of cherry tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

    * * *

    'What a curious feeling!' said Alice; 'I must be shutting up like a telescope.'

    And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; 'for it might end, you know,' said Alice to herself, 'in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?' And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing.

    After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.

    'Come, there's no use in crying like that!' said Alice to herself, rather sharply; 'I advise you to leave off this minute!' She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. 'But it's no use now,' thought poor Alice, 'to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!'

    Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words 'EAT ME' were beautifully marked in currants. 'Well, I'll eat it,' said Alice, 'and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!'

    She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, 'Which way? Which way?', holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.

    So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.

    CHAPTER 2

    The Pool of Tears


    'Curiouser and curiouser!' cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English); 'now I'm opening out like the largest telescope that ever was! Goodbye, feet!' (for when she looked down at her feet, they seemed to be almost out of sight, they were getting so far off). 'Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I'm sure I shan't be able! I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself about you: you must manage the best way you can; – but I must be kind to them,' thought Alice, 'or perhaps they won't walk the way I want to go! Let me see: I'll give them a new pair of boots every Christmas.'

    And she went on planning to herself how she would manage it. 'They must go by the carrier,' she thought; 'and how funny it'll seem, sending presents to one's own feet! And how odd the directions will look!

    ALICE'S RIGHT FOOT, ESQ

    HEARTHRUG,

    NEAR THE FENDER,

    (WITH ALICE'S LOVE)

    Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking!'

    Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall: in fact she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door.

    Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get through was more hopeless than ever: she sat down and began to cry again.

    'You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' said Alice, 'a great girl like you,' (she might well say this), 'to go on crying in this way! Stop this moment, I tell you!' But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all round her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the hall.

    After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other: he came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came, 'Oh! the Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting!' Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of anyone; so, when the Rabbit came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, 'If you please, sir –' The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and skurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go.

    Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking: 'Dear, dear! How queer everything is today! And yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle!' And she began thinking over all the children she knew that were of the same age as herself, to see if she could have been changed for any of them.

    'I'm sure I'm not Ada,' she said, 'for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all; and I'm sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she, oh! she knows such a very little! Besides, she's she, and I'm I, and – oh dear, how puzzling it all is! I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. Let me see: four times five is twelve, and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven is – oh dear! I shall never get to twenty at that rate! However, the Multiplication Table doesn't signify: let's try Geography. London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome – no, that's all wrong, I'm certain! I must have been changed for Mabel! I'll try and say "How doth the little –"' and she crossed her hands on her lap as if she were saying lessons, and began to repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and strange, and the words did not come the same as they used to do: –


    'How doth the little crocodile
    Improve his shining tail,
    And pour the waters of the Nile
    On every golden scale!

    How cheerfully he seems to grin,
    How neatly spread his claws,
    And welcome little fishes in
    With gently smiling jaws!


    'I'm sure those are not the right words,' said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on, 'I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh! ever so many lessons to learn! No, I've made up my mind about it; if I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here! It'll be no use their putting their heads down and saying "Come up again, dear!" I shall only look up and say "Who am I then? Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up: if not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody else" – but, oh dear!' cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, 'I do wish they would put their heads down! I am so very tired of being all alone here!'

    As she said this she looked down at her hands, and was surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rabbit's little white kid gloves while she was talking. 'How can I have done that?' she thought. 'I must be growing small again.' She got up and went to the table to measure herself by it, and found that, as nearly as she could guess, she was now about two feet high, and was going on shrinking rapidly: she soon found out that the cause of this was the fan she was holding, and she dropped it hastily, just in time to avoid shrinking away altogether.


    (Continues...)

    Excerpted from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. Copyright © 2015 Oldcastle Books Ltd. Excerpted by permission of Oldcastle Books.
    All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
    Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

    Table of Contents


    Down the Rabbit-Hole
    The Pool of Tears
    A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale
    The Rabbit Sends In a Little Bill
    Advice From a Caterpillar
    Pig and Pepper
    A Mad Tea-Party
    The Queen's Croquet-Ground
    The Mock Turtle's Story
    The Lobster Quadrille
    Who Stole the Tarts?
    Alice's Evidence
     

    What People are Saying About This

    Andy Malcolm

    For A Is for Alice:

    'Here is the book that Alice herself would have loved, with wonderfully whimsical illustrations by one of Canada's greatest woodcut artists, George Walker.... Combining technical mastery with insight and wit, George has re-created a much loved classic in an old world style. This book will be an essential and cherished possession for every Carrollian collector and lover of children's literature.'

    From the Publisher

    "Frasier masters all of Carroll's verbal gymnastics, from the Dormouse's snores to the dreamy illogic of the Caterpillar, and, of course, the nonsensical verse. This is a great pleasure."—-AudioFile

    Neil Gaiman

    'The delicacy and intelligence of George Walker's print-making seems to have come to us from a bygone age. Fortunately, we have George with us now.'

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    Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (commonly shortened to Alice in Wonderland) is an 1865 novel written by English author Charles Lutwidge Dodgson under the pseudonym Lewis Carroll. It tells of a girl named Alice falling through a rabbit hole into a fantasy world populated by peculiar, anthropomorphic creatures. The tale plays with logic, giving the story lasting popularity with adults as well as with children. It is considered to be one of the best examples of the literary nonsense genre. Its narrative course and structure, characters and imagery have been enormously influential in both popular culture and literature, especially in the fantasy genre.

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    From the Publisher
    This year, that curious, hallucinating heroine Alice, friend of Cheshire cats and untimely rabbits, is turning 150 years old…And what a perfect match, in tone and whimsy, found in Rifle Paper Co.’s Anna Bond.”—Vanity Fair
     
    “Publishers are having a creative field day with stunningly beautiful new covers—and lovely insides, too, in the case of Puffin’s whimsical Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, illustrated by Rifle Paper Co.’s Anna Bond.”—Entertainment Weekly
     
    “Chic…The pretty face of Anna Bond’s Alice looks continually astonished, and even in the scene where her neck grows freakishly serpentine, the heroine remains comely. Elegant and unthreatening, Ms. Bond’s pictures abound with so many flowers and curling vines that Wonderland seems a much nicer place than perhaps we remembered.”—Wall Street Journal
     
    “150 years after Alice in Wonderland was published, Anna Bond, the creative director of stationer Rifle Paper Co., draws a whole new tea party in this deluxe hardcover edition.”—New York Magazine’s The Cut
     
    “In this beautiful, oversized, hardcover anniversary edition—with the complete, unabridged text—readers will fall in love all over again with the classic tale of the girl who fell down the rabbit hole. Illustrator Anna Bond, of gift and stationery brand Rifle Paper Co., applies her stylish, whimsical touch and distinctive color palette to Alice and her friends, from the inviting jacket and the case-cover art beneath it to the original endpapers and the superb full-color interior illustrations, large and small.” —Shelf Awareness
     
    “This year marks the 150th anniversary of Lewis Carroll’s beloved classic, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Commemorate the occasion with a deluxe hardcover edition of the tale from Puffin Books, available Oct. 27. The new book is re-illustrated with vibrant, whimsical designs by Anna Bond of Rifle Paper Co., for a one-of-a-kind look at Alice’s imaginative journey.”—American Profile
    ForeWord Magazine - Patty Comeau

    For A Is for Alice:

    'Each image offered here provides evidence of its creation; there is a reminder, with each turn of the page, of the hand and thought that guided each groove. Walker's ability to impress such great detail (as in the grain of both the fur of the Cheshire Cat, and the branch upon which he is perched) in a print made with woodblocks is remarkable.... At the heart of this book is the art of the book, pages kissed by poetic samples of Carroll's writing and bound using artisan techniques onsite at The Porcupine's Quill headquarters. It is a high-quality, collectible edition in which fans of the Alice stories, bibliophiles, and young readers will delight.

    White Rabbit Tales [Newsletter of the Lewis Carrol
    [Steadman's drawings] are still remarkably fresh and unique.
    Toronto Star
    Ferocious Steadman spin.
    Victoria Times-Colonist - Liz Pogue
    Sophisticated humor
    Waterbury Republican-American - Betsy Daley
    Alice as you've rarely seen her... fun for all ages... full of the wit and wisdom Carroll originally gave us.
    dingbatmag.com
    Don't count on a bookful of sweet, charming etchings of the shrinking golden girl; this is a somewhat less flattering Alice than the one we've come to know and expect. In over 40 pen and ink illustrations, this Wonderland is more tempestuous; of greater, grittier (and funnier) distortion... when dangerous satirists like Steadman exercise their imaginations and lyric, delirious pens in the slivers and shards of a distorted world — look out.
    San Diego Union-Tribune - David Elliott
    Explosive ink drawings... acidic whimsies splash across pages, bringing dear Alice a newly stimulating cup of tea.
    Seattle Times - Mary Ann Gwinn
    Carroll's hall-of-mirrors children's tale and Steadman's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" style make for an eerily perfect fit.
    Denver Post - Clair Martin
    Pair[s] a perpetually suspicious Alice with peculiar creatures that well warrant her chariness.
    ForeWord Magazine

    For A Is for Alice:

    'Each image offered here provides evidence of its creation; there is a reminder, with each turn of the page, of the hand and thought that guided each groove. Walker's ability to impress such great detail (as in the grain of both the fur of the Cheshire Cat, and the branch upon which he is perched) in a print made with woodblocks is remarkable.... At the heart of this book is the art of the book, pages kissed by poetic samples of Carroll's writing and bound using artisan techniques onsite at The Porcupine's Quill headquarters. It is a high-quality, collectible edition in which fans of the Alice stories, bibliophiles, and young readers will delight.

    — Patty Comeau

    Library Journal
    10/15/2015
    Academic audiences will need little persuasion to see this volume as a relevant addition to any collection not already holding a copy of the 1969 Maecenas Press edition of the same work. However, general readers will find much to contemplate here, as some may still see Dalí as the "melting clock guy" and will be surprised to find that these gestural, high-energy gouaches were painted by the same artist who produced all of those finely wrought oil paintings with their asymmetrical use of volumes of sky and sand. Unlike more straightforward pairings of literature with surrealism, such as Max Ernst's illustrations for René Crevel's Babylon, the images accompanying Carroll's text do not so much explicate the story as extend it, providing both a narrative-inspired and narrative-independent dream sequence that simultaneously meanders among and augments the text's many symbols. The introduction by Burstein (president emeritus, Lewis Carroll Soc. of North America) and Thomas Banchoff (emeritus, Brown Univ.) provides a valuable grounding in the artist's interests and obsessions at the time the gouaches were created. VERDICT A worthy purchase for public and academic libraries.—Jenny Brewer, Helen Hall Lib., League City, TX

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