Reflections on Tenniel’s Humpty Dumpty 1872

Tenniel -Humpty Dumpty 1872

Sir John Tenniel (28 February 1820 – 25 February 1914) was an English illustrator, graphic humourist, and political cartoonist whose work was prominent during the second half of the 19th century.

Reflections on Tenniel -Humpty Dumpty 1872

After the Bible and Shakespeare, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is the most widely-quoted book in the Western world.

It has been translated into at least 174 languages. Source

alice-liddell mtt

Who was real-life model for The Red Queen?

The hookah-smoking caterpillar

full of wisp plumes and old photographs on glass –

Little Alice Liddel, a beggar child,

begs for a tale rowing down the river of dreams, ……..

Ripples of consequences drift down –

leaves, carrying metaphors,

drift by,

become pages in a book,

full of curious truths,

like a smile bending along the edge of the river bank, …….

so why did the Cheshire Cat have such an oddly-shaped smile ?

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As time passes the story of Alice, Lewis Carroll and Wonderland become “curiouser and curiouser” . CBC Radio Sunday Edition interviews both Vanessa Tait, novelist and great grand-daughter of Alice Liddel, and Canadian David Day, author of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland Decoded.

To Listen to the full interview Exposing the curious world of Alice In Wonderland click  here.

 

The Stone that Wished to Know the Wind.

The Stone that Wished to Know the Wind

 

Once there was a small smooth stone that wished to know the wind. The small stone only knew how to sit still. It patiently waited for many years, till finally, one day in Autumn, a young boy came passing by. He bent down, picked up the stone and put it in his pocket. He kept the stone with him till the next summer.

There came a day, when the Summer was turning its head towards harvest skies; on that day, the boy, having told the stone his dreams, hopes and fears, flung the small stone high into the air above the laughter of the tree tops and the leaves singing with the breeze. The stone rolled and bounced among wisps of clouds and skipped by the rain drops that were waiting to be born. All around him was the wind.

The small round stone rose so high that he heard the stars polishing the evening sky with glitter and tear drops. Then he turned over in a mist of unborn memories, touched the seams of the horizon one last time, and then fell back down to earth.

Upon the ground he came to rest. He told other stones of his journey. A few had made similar trips, but not as far. Many called him a liar or mad, as there is only the ground. Some sat still and hoped to find their own way to the wind. Some misunderstood and ended up thrown in anger at windows or those who walked a different path. As for the small smooth stone, it sat patiently till there came a time when a feather fell down to join him on the ground.

 

Stone sits waiting – still,

On old paper, brown as time,

The breeze stirs paper –

Words, leaves of thought, curl upward

Towards the horizon.