Somehow, I’ve never been able to escape the power of Wonderland. Ever since the first time I read Lewis Caroll’s (or, Rev. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson’s) Alice in Wonderland, and subsequently Alice Through the Looking Glass, I’ve had a nearly-untoward fascination with Alice and the Mad Hatter and the Carpenter and the Walrus and the Queen of Hearts and caterpillars and mushrooms and hookahs and Cheshire cats.
I first read Alice, I’m ashamed to say, on a computer screen. Well, I shouldn’t be too ashamed: it was, after all, the “Voyager Expanded Books” edition, (now something of a curiosity in its own right) annotated by Martin Gardner.
From there I went on to memorize “The Jabberwocky,” which was required reading in high school English Literature. To this day, when I’m bored, “’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves . . .” goes up on any blackboard within reach.
For more about Alice, feel free to peruse: