Week 11 Storytelling: Alice and The Chessmen

Once upon a time, there was a very bored little girl. Her golden hair twisted in boring curls, and the petticoats of her blue dress wrinkled in boring ruffles.

It was a hot summer day, Alice had absolutely nothing to entertain herself in her stuffy old living room. She had nothing, except her imagination, which is the greatest tool, you know.

Alice stared at the boring old chess set on the coffee table, and she squinted her eyes and concentrated very hard.

Suddenly, the black king's head popped out of the stone piece and became fleshy. That was quickly followed by his body, arms, and legs. He glanced around in confusion and noticed Alice.

"You there!" the Black King exclaimed. "What business have you going around and making perfectly good stone chess pieces turn into flesh?" He waved his fist indignantly.

"How am I supposed to command my army if I can no longer speak with them? I demand that you turn me back this instant!" he continued.

Alice was taken-aback. If she were stone, she reasoned, she would enjoy being made human. She didn't understand why the Black King had become all hot and bothered over the issue. Besides, she was bored, and she wanted someone to play with.

"No, I'm sorry, dear king. I shan't turn you back," Alice said matter-of-factually.

"Well, if you won't restore me to my regular state of being, then I absolutely insist that you bring all the rest of my comrades along with me!" the Black King declared. He straightened himself up to his full height.

Alice thought for a minute. She had turned the Black King into flesh and blood relatively easily. And having more chess pieces to play with did sound appealing.

"Alright," Alice agreed. "I'll try my best."

For the next hour, Alice glared and squinted and glowered and scowled. She looked cross-eyed and cock-eyed. She concentrated and fixated and meditated and pondered. Alice ruminated and scrutinized and contemplated. Until finally, every last chess piece on the board was running around and calling out to its friends.

 

(Image information: "Chessmen" by  John Tenniel, 1871.)

Alice was quite delighted with herself, and now that all of the chess pieces were reunited together again, they were quite pleased as well. They whiled away the afternoon together in pleasurable companionship.

Alice and the chess pieces grew quite close throughout the afternoon, and Alice grew sad when darkness came and her little friends became stone again.

"Well, at least for once," Alice said, "my life wasn't quite so boring."


Author's Note: This story is inspired by the Chess Pieces part of Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carrol, 1871. With this retelling, I really wanted to play around with Carrol's writing style because I think it's so enchanting. His word choice really makes for enjoyable stories. So I tried my best to emulate that.

Week 11 Reading Diary: Through the Looking-Glass

This week I chose to read the Through the Looking-Glass unit, which is taken from the Lewis Carrol novel Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There. I've already read Alice in Wonderland. So I'm excited to read the sequel.

I like how this story starts out in a real house with a little girl who is pretending and slowly reality mixes with imagination.

There's a wonderful contrast between Alice's curiosity about the chess pieces and they way the chess pieces rationalize the things that happen to them because of Alice.

 

(Image Information "Hold White King" by John Tenniel, from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carrol,  1871).

I wonder if something happened in the omitted chapters that allowed the Looking-Glass characters to begin seeing Alice.

I was homeschooled. And when I was in highschool, my mom and I read the Jaberwocky poem. I enjoyed it as much today as I had back then. It reminds me of Dr. Seuss in that there are a lot of made up words, but I can still understand the story. Writing like that takes a real talent.

When Alice meets Tweedledee and Tweedledum, I like how she thinks about needing to shake both of their hands at once as to not hurt their feelings. It shows how mature she is.

In the movie Harriet the Spy, Harriet and her nanny recite part of the Walrus and the Carpenter poem to each other, and I always loved that part of the movie. So this is my favorite part of the poem:

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —
Of cabbages — and kings —
And why the sea is boiling hot —
And whether pigs have wings."

It's funny how despite Alice's maturity and thoughtfulness, Tweedledee and Tweedledum talk so much nonsense about her not being real that they make her cry. I think this is very illustrative of many people. We get ourselves so worked up over something that's not even a big deal that we forget that we're worried about something that might not even be worth worrying about.

This is such a funny visual: "All this time Tweedledee was trying his best to fold up the umbrella, with himself in it: which was such an extraordinary thing to do that it quite took off Alice's attention from the angry brother."

I find this part pretty funny because so many people do use words like this. "'When I use a word,' Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.'" But what is the point of having a common language, if the words mean different things to different people?

Something I've thought about a lot during this semester's reading units is whether or not the nonsense in the stories is justified. Usually, I don't like it when characters do things for no reason. But I don't find myself upset by it in Through the Looking Glass. I'm wondering if that's because I'm familiar with Lewis Carrol as an author, and so, I knew to expect the nonsense.

I like what the White Knight says here, "My mind goes on working all the same. In fact, the more head downwards I am, the more I keep inventing new things." It's very true. I always have the best ideas when I'm driving or in the shower and can't write them down. Sometimes I think minds work best when they're occupied with something simple.

I like how the riddles in this books almost seem to make sense, but they don't quite. It's very entertaining to try to figure them out and then realize that they can't be understood.

Alice goes through the same thing I think. "Alice sighed and gave it up. 'It's exactly like a riddle with no answer!' she thought."

Even though Alice wakes up from this story and believes it to be a dream, I wonder if that is simply her way of dealing with such strange events. I wonder if it could have really happened to her.