Alice in Slumberland

-i-


Alice was terribly tired out by her adventures down the rabbit-hole. So she went straight to bed after supper and fell asleep right away. Indeed, as she began to fall asleep she felt she was falling, falling, falling down a deep, deep, deep well. Would the fall never end? Then, with a thump, thump, down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves.
"Dear me, not all over again," she said, not a little put out. "I must be dreaming. Oh, I've had quite enough of the Red Queen for one day! I really must find a way out of this dream."
And with that she headed down the dark tunnel to a glass door at the far end. She could see sunny a garden on the other side of the door. So she went into the garden. And there she found the Mock Turtle, swimming in a pond.
"Mr. Turtle," she began, "Would you kindly tell me how I get out of here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," the Turtle gurgled.
"What I meant to say," said Alice, "is how I can find my way out of this dream."
Well, you may mean what you say, but what you say doesn't mean much to me," the he replied.
"I don't understand," Alice exclaimed.
"That makes two of us," the Turtle replied.
"Let me try again," said Alice.
"By all means," the Turtle agreed."
"Where am I now?" she asked.
"Why, you're here, of course!" the Turtle triumphantly replied.
"Yes, but where is here?" Alice followed up, waxing a bit impatient.
"Here is here, and there is there. Here is where there is no there. It's all so simple, you see!" the Turtle replied, with a toss of the head.
"Yes," said Alice, but I'm not talking about here and there here in the dream."
"Then whatever are you talking about?" asked the Turtle.
"Let me try once more," said Alice.
"Yes, I think you'd better," said the Turtle.
"What do you call this place?" she asked
"We call it the Land of Nod," he answered.
"Aha!" she exclaimed. "So where is the door into the Land of Nod from the world beyond?"
"Sounds like uncommon nonsense to me," said the Turtle.
"I don't know what you mean," Alice replied.
"That makes two of us," the Turtle replied.
Alice's head was beginning to spin. "Okay, let's put it this way. When I ask how I get from here to there, here is the dream world, and there is the real world—the outside world."
"More stuff and nonsense," the Turtle exclaimed. "The Dream is all that is or ever was or ever will be!"

-ii-

Alice could tell that this conversation was neither here nor there, and as she was in a great hurry to wake up, she excused herself and went into a house behind the garden. After ambling down the hall, she saw an open door and went in. There she found a room full of musty books. And sitting behind a desk was the Mad Hatter, with a pair of spectacles low on the nose.
"Mr. Hatter, would you please tell me the quickest way out of my dream?"
The Hatter looked up and said, "Vat ist your name, meine kleine kinder?"
"Alice," said Alice.
"Lie down on my couch, mein Mädchen," he said.
Alice thought this was a rather roundabout way of answering her question, but being a well-bred girl who was taught to mind her elders and betters, she lay down on the couch.
"Now Alexia, how long haf you zuffered from dis delusion of a vishvorld beyond zie dreamvorld?"
"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," Alice exclaimed, perfectly perplexed.
"Unless you vere ve-r-r-r-y unhappy wis zie land of Nöd, you voudn't be vishing für a vorld outzide zie dream," he explained.
"It isn't wishful thinking!" Alice replied, in an indignant tone.
"Dis all goes back zu zome kinderhood nightmare. Because you felt helpless, you made up dis zilly business about another vorld to escape from your fears.
"The real world is a cold hard fact, like stubbing your toe," Alice retorted. "Haven't you heard of matter?"
"Alas, ven pipples start talkink about a real vorld, dey stretch zie meanink of vords beyond all meanink. Dey make up vords like matter. Vat is matter, I ask? Can you zee it, zmell it, taste it, touch it? Of course not! But zie ztuff of dreams—now dat's tangible. I can schtub my toe in a dream, you know."
"I can see the real world just fine, thank you," said Alice.
"I only vish I had zuch acute eyezight," replied the Hatter. "Zu be able zu zee zometink invisible ist no leetle accomplishment. Why, it ist as much as I can do zu zee zometink right before mein eyes!"
"I mean I can see it when I'm there," Alice corrected herself. "Just because I can't see the real world right now doesn't mean it isn't out there," she added.
"Mein Mädchen," he said in a consoling tone, "ven you deny vat I say, you prove vat I say, für if you veren't zo afraid, you voudn't invent all dis nonzenze about a real vorld.
"This conversation is like a cat chasing its own tail. There's no reasoning with you!" Alice said in exasperation.
"Vat did you expect? Dey don't call me zie Mäd Hätter für notink, you know!"

-iii-

At that she stomped out of the room in a huff. Returning to the tunnel, she went in the opposite direction until she arrived at a door with M. Hare engraved on a brass nameplate. She knocked on the door, and the Marsh Hare answered.
"Mr. Hare, can you show me the exit? "
"Why, of course," he said, pointing his paw. "The third door to the left leads you out of the tunnel."
"No, I don't want to get out of the tunnel, I want to get out of the dream," she clarified.
"What ever made you think there is such a destination?" He queried.
"Well, for one thing, I remember falling asleep," she sighed, weary of this sort of question.
"How do you know you didn't dream you were falling asleep?" he replied.
"I can't dream I'm dreaming. And, anyway, you can't have a dream without a dreamer. It isn't bloody likely that I just dreamed myself into being. So the dream can't be all there is," she answered, matter-of-factly.
"You could only say which is more or less likely if worlds were as plentiful as blackberries; then you could put them in a paper-bag, shake them up and down, take out a few berries and compare them. The dream is just there, and that's all!" he exclaimed.
"But it can't just go on backwards forever and ever. That's incredible! Someone had to dream the whole thing up," Alice protested.
"I daresay you haven't had much practice," the Marsh Hare said, in a pitying tone of voice. "Now when I was your age I'd practice 30 minutes a day. Why, sometimes I'd make myself believe half-a-dozen unbelievable things before breakfast."
"It's impossible to talk about what's impossible with someone who believes in what's impossible," Alice retorted. With that she turned around and went through the third door to the left.

-iv-

She climbed up a flight of stairs, and came out into another tunnel. Passing by a door marked W. Rabbit, she rang the bell and asked for directions. The White Rabbit invited her in for a cup of tea.
"My dear girl," he said. "You seem very sure of yourself. Which makes me ask, what would have to happen for you to stop believing in the real world?"
"I don't quite follow you," Alice answered.
"Okay, let's begin with a parable," easing into his armchair. "Once upon a time there were two explorers who came upon a clearing in the woods, full of weeds and flowers. One of them said a gardener must have planted the flowers, but the other denied it. So they pitched their tents and set a watch. Yet no gardener was ever seen. 'But suppose he's a gardener from another world—a physical gardener?' So they dreamed up an imaginary barbed-wire fence. They electrified it. And they dreamed up imaginary bloodhounds to patrol the grounds. But the dogs never barked. The wires never wavered. They never heard a shriek. 'But if he's a physical gardener, then he can't feel an imaginary electric shock. And he doesn't leave a scent that imaginary bloodhounds can pick up.' At last the explorer said to his friend, 'In that case, how can you tell the difference between a physical gardener and a nonexistent gardener?'"
"I don't see the point of the parable," Alice said.
"Really, you are very dull!" reproved the Rabbit. "You believe in a real world the same way the explorer believed in physical gardener. But it is wrong, monstrously wrong, always, everywhere and for anyone to believe anything upon insufficient spectral evidence!"
"But the real world isn't like an invisible gardener. It's as solid and substantial as a hardwood door," Alice replied.
"Fancy a solid door!" the White Rabbit exclaimed. "What a thick, slow sort of world the real world must be, if there is such a place! Here in Dreamland I can pass right through walls and doors. You should try it sometime!"
"I don't know why I even bother talking with you," Alice retorted. "You're just a pretend person!"
"Why, that's the kindest compliment I've been paid in many a day," the White Rabbit replied, with a wide toothy grin. "Anyway, if I'm just a character in your dream, then I'm you, and you're me, so you've only got yourself to blame!"
Deeply offended, Alice flounced off.

-v-

This time she took the stairs as far up as she could, hoping to get out into the open air. And, indeed, she came right out beside the rabbit-hole. Walking on the grass she ran into the Dormouse, nibbling on a dandelion.
"Mr. Doormouse," she began. I'm trying to find a way out of this dream. But everywhere I go there's just more of it."
"Das ist because ein Nödländischer can nefer transgress zie borders of Dreamland in order zu zee zie bedroomenon".
"Maybe so," said Alice, "But someone, sometime ago had to dream the dream."
"Ya! Ya! Dat's zie old Nödological proof! But vat do you know about Time? I dare zay you nefer efer zpoke zu Time!" he said haughtily.
"I know that most things have a beginning, a middle and an end!" said Alice.
"It's a poor zort of Time dat only vorks vun vay. Here im Dreamland vun can go backvards as vell as forvards im time. It makes vun a leetle giddy at fürst, but you'll get zie hang of it after a while!" he said, encouragingly.
"In the real world," Alice replied, "Things begin at the beginning, and go from day to day."
"That's a poor thin vay of doink things," the Doormouse replied, shaking his whiskers. "Here vun can bunch up days, and begin at zie end, or jump smack im zu zie middle of a story. Time ist only figment of zie imagination, like you and me. Somnio, ergo sum!"
"I am not a figment of the imagination," Alice shouted indignantly, and began to walk away.
"Surely you're not goink zu leaf me before you'f heard me zing mein Fischen Threnodischen, are you?" he said, calling after her. At that she came back. "I hope it's not long," she said.
"Not at all," said the Doormouse. He then raised himself erect, towering a full half inch above the dandelion, and twittered in shrill squeaky tones:

Das Goldfischglass an die Flör beplopt,
Das Wasser aussen das Glass geschlopt;
Die wasserlos Fischen geflipt und geflopt,
Die wasserlos Augen beswellt und auspopt.

Chorus:

So sing ein Lament für die schmitten Goldfischen,
Wen dey rotten und machen die Arie gestinken!


Alice couldn't make much sense of this little ditty, but as the Doormouse was old and gray, she figured it must all be too wise and wonderful for her. With that she politely excused herself.

-vi-

After strolling through the field she happened upon a herd of Unicorns. One of them was in the midst of cracking a horse joke. (As Alice would learn in a later adventure, a horse joke is to unicorns what a Polack joke is to us. But that, as we say, is another story.)
"Why didn't the horse whinny?" "Because he was hoarse!" At this the herd hee-hawed like drunken donkeys.
After the laughter died down, Alice addressed him. "Mr. Unicorn," she said, in a doleful tone of voice, "Can you tell me the way out of this dream? I want so awfully to get back home, and it's been frightfully difficult to get decent directions."
"I've never seen a creature like you before," the Unicorn exclaimed. What exactly do you call yourself?"
"I'm a girl!" said Alice.
"Ah, yes, I've read about little girls in nursery rhymes and fairy tales. But I never knew your sort actually existed. I guess you must come from some unexplored corner of Nod."
"No, I come from the real world," she said.
"Come, come, my child. A wise Nodlander must keep a due sense of proportion. We have rules here, you know. You can't just drop in from another world, for that would break the rules, and as firm and unalterable imagination has established these rules, the proof against you're dropping in like this is about as complete as any figment of the imagination can possibly be!" he neighed.
"Speak English!" she replied. "I don't know what half those long words mean, and, what's more, I don't believe you do either! But this one thing I do know: that I'm an eyewitness to the real world."
"My dear girl," he snorted, "your testimony can never be more believable than the thing you attest."
"Are you calling me a liar?" Alice angrily replied.
"Don't take it personally, but in all the history of Nod, no such event was ever witnessed by enough well-educated Unicorns or Chimeras to place it above reasonable doubt."
"Well, you've obviously made up your mind, so there's no point wasting anymore time with the likes of you!" said Alice, and continued on her way.

-vii-

She followed the trail up a steep hill, overlooking a great plain, spread out like a chessboard. Atop the hill she saw the Red Queen, directing moves from her throne. She was the very last person that Alice wanted to meet again, but Alice was desperate by now.
"Your Highness," she said. "Can you show me the way out of your kingdom?"
"Queendom, you mean!" she snapped back.
"Yes, quite so, I'm sorry," Alice replied. "But back to the question…"
"I don't know what you're asking!" said the Queen.
"My question is, Where does the dream world end and the real world begin?" Alice explained.
"The game will end in checkmate. But I don't know the rules of the real world, whatever that is, so I can't say where it begins or ends. Is it like a game of chess?" she asked.
"Well, not especially," said Alice.
"Can you put it in an imaginary test tube?" the Queen asked.
"No, I don't think it would fit—unless you had a very ample imagination!" Alice replied.
"Then you question is meaningless, quite meaningless!" she said. "Why, it's like saying, 'There's a Drogulus over there.' And I say, 'What's a Drogulus?' And you say, 'I can't describe a Drogulus. It's not the sort of thing you can dream up. And it doesn't leave any imaginary footprints.' So it's all the same if the Drogulus is there or not."
At this point Alice lost all patience and gave up asking for further directions. Instead, she said to herself, "I'm going to jump off this cliff and scare myself awake." And with that she flung herself over the ledge. Down, down, down she went. Would the fall never end? Then, with a thump, thump, down she came upon the rug. For Alice awoke to discover that she had fallen out of bed, and her adventure had been a bad dream.