A little over a week ago I was assigned to read Lewis Carroll's Alice’s Adventures in
Wonderland. In short, I hated it. While Lewis Carroll’s masterpiece remains a childhood classic,
I personally found it impossibly difficult to follow. Its lack of transitions, seemingly directionless
plot, and lack of an obvious moral, left me questioning what is message I am supposed to take
away from this narrative. Needless to say, I found this work utterly illogical and nonsensical.
However, I was more concerned with how I was going to bullshit my way through a class
discussion. What bothered me most is that I could not identify the point of reading this story.
Whenever I study something, I tend to ask myself two questions: What does this mean, and why
does this matter? Spoiler alert, I still don’t exactly know what Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
means or why it matters.
Skip forward to the day of class where we held a class discussion. We mostly talked
about the plot and literary techniques. One question– that for the life of me I could not remember
– prompted to google the reception of the book when it was initially released. What I discovered
was critics and adults tended to hate the book justifying it with the exact same claims that
frustrated me over 150 years later. Yet the book remained relevant through an overwhelming
adoration from generations children. What was the disconnect between children and adults? I sat
with this thought for awhile searching for an answer, but ultimately came up with nothing. And
yet, somewhere in that absence of an answer, I began to understand something.
Children’s books are meant to be clear. They are meant to have a simple plot and
illustrate simple morals for the purpose of teaching children. Or at least the was the mindset I
built for myself while reading children’s literature. I read the story searching for morals,
symbolism, metaphors– you get the idea. The story became a medium, for which it was my job
to dissect and analyze each individual piece of prose, in search of some profound meaning. The
issue I had though is the subconscious correlation I made between enjoyment and analysis. I had
basically made finding a practical lesson, a prerequisite to enjoyment. Because I could only
identify one potential metaphor– Alice shifting in size is a metaphor for puberty and childhood–
I began to doubt my own understanding of the book. So naturally when I failed to identify the
moral of this story, I began to hate it. But what if I read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
completely wrong? I read the entirety of the book looking for something that didn’t exist, while I
simply forgot to enjoy the story. I was transported to a mystical realm, with magical creatures,
and flavourful settings, yet I was fixated on rhyme schemes and how they “elevated” this
chapter. This created a level of irony, where in an attempt to analyze children's literature, we
prevent ourselves from enjoying it.
I began to question this experience and wondered if others felt the same way I did. Are
university students forgetting how to enjoy things? With the non-stop hustle and bustle of
university life, it can constantly feel as if we are watching our lives unfold, rather than
experiencing it. We obsess so much over grades, networking, extracurriculars, and our future
prospects after we achieve our degree. Even when we relax, we still feel the need to be
“productive”. We read books to become more intelligent, we watch movies and feel compelled to
understand the underlying messages, we act in a way that constantly aims to makes us appear
more interesting, knowledgeable, or accomplished. It’s as if we plan to write our entire lives on a
resume. Now to be clear, in no way, am I trying to undermine the analytical skills Lakehead
strives to teach us. Rather, perhaps we are struggling to mentally separate work from pleasure.
It’s as if relax has become yet another assignment that needs to be marked– oh and don’t forget
to do your citations, MLA style of course. When we become so preoccupied with evaluating our
lives, we often forget to actually live and experience them.
So, I ask you the same question I failed to answer? What is the deeper meaning of this
“article”? Well I’ll be nice and tell you that there isn’t one. But know, that is perfectly okay. Not
everything we read or do needs to hold innate purpose. The lesson I took away had less to do
with contents of the book itself, but more so my own needs to find value in everything I do. I had
become so concerned with what literature could teach me, I simply forgot my simple child-like
joy for reading
Now what is the solution? Remember to slow down and be aware of each and every
experience life presents you. Not everything has a lesson, and if somethings fails to meet your
expectations, try to look at it from a different angle. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be rereading
the book I still loathe, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.