Chapter 9:
I'm not really sure how to approach this one; there's really not a whole lot to say about it. Alice is Queen. Carroll has said goodbye. She takes her position gracefully (no stiff-neckedness here), and as things settle, so they fall apart. The dream ends here, just like it did in the Tart Trial of Wonderland, and the only thing left to Carroll is to end the saga. This is a very charitable finale, as he does so tenderly, and as he is no longer a part of it. The chapter is rife with excellent jokes and wordplay, but there's a distance between reader and action, surely drawn--intentionally or not--by Carroll's own increasing distance from the growing Alice. One detail I'm a big fan of, and regarding the relationship's terminus, is that he sends her off with fireworks!
By the way, I mentioned earlier that Carroll never wrote poetry in anapests. Well, this chapter proves me wrong.
Chapters 10 and 11:
It was at the suggestion of another of Carroll's young friends that the Red Queen turn into the black kitten, Kitty. Further, there's an article called "Alice Through the Zodiac," in which one Everett Bleiler points out how the twelve chapters align with signs of the zodiac, including the Tweedles as Gemini, the Goat on the train as Capricorn, and so on. "True" Carrollians (a club to which I can't claim to be member, though not necessarily for this) believe Carroll simply wanted twelve chapters, as he never displayed interest in the Zodiac.
Chapter 12:
I'm interested by Kitty, the black kitten, who, like all cats, only says the same thing, *purr*, no matter what the conversation. Of course this isn't any kind of a conversation; there must be contrast for dialog. In my personal experience with children and teens (as a father and teacher, respectively), this isn't uncommon, especially when the kid in question is of one of the following three types (though, really, this goes equally for adults): obstinate of mood, an idiot, of extremely heightened emotion (very happy, very sad, very angry, etcetera). I wonder who, if anyone, the little black kitten may be at this point.
Bearing in mind the fact that it was Carroll, not Alice, who wrote the book, as well as Carroll's relationship with and love for the girl, and whatever psychoses he may or may not have had toward her, what do you think of the "serious" question Alice posits to Kitty?
By the way, I mentioned earlier that Carroll never wrote poetry in anapests. Well, this chapter proves me wrong.
Chapters 10 and 11:
It was at the suggestion of another of Carroll's young friends that the Red Queen turn into the black kitten, Kitty. Further, there's an article called "Alice Through the Zodiac," in which one Everett Bleiler points out how the twelve chapters align with signs of the zodiac, including the Tweedles as Gemini, the Goat on the train as Capricorn, and so on. "True" Carrollians (a club to which I can't claim to be member, though not necessarily for this) believe Carroll simply wanted twelve chapters, as he never displayed interest in the Zodiac.
Chapter 12:
I'm interested by Kitty, the black kitten, who, like all cats, only says the same thing, *purr*, no matter what the conversation. Of course this isn't any kind of a conversation; there must be contrast for dialog. In my personal experience with children and teens (as a father and teacher, respectively), this isn't uncommon, especially when the kid in question is of one of the following three types (though, really, this goes equally for adults): obstinate of mood, an idiot, of extremely heightened emotion (very happy, very sad, very angry, etcetera). I wonder who, if anyone, the little black kitten may be at this point.
Bearing in mind the fact that it was Carroll, not Alice, who wrote the book, as well as Carroll's relationship with and love for the girl, and whatever psychoses he may or may not have had toward her, what do you think of the "serious" question Alice posits to Kitty?
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