Living In The Looking-Glass

For a writing contest, I got to compose a letter to the author of a book that inspired me recently.  I chose Lewis Carroll and his book "Through the Looking-Glass."  Here's the letter for my readers who are interested:

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Dear Mr. Carroll,

How would you describe the feeling of reading the last words of a beautiful story?  To me, finishing a good book is like saying goodbye to a best friend.  I get a bittersweet feeling after hearing the familiar sound of a back cover falling onto the last page of a finished book.  Upon a story’s end, I must take time to reflect on the message it revealed to me during the reading adventure.  This is why I never finish a book in public.  I must be in complete solitude as I inhale the parting words, the final insight, that the book gives me.  That last chapter is a farewell hug, a somber wave goodbye, a smile that I remember long after departure happens.  The words on the last page put the finishing touches on the picture that the story has been painting—finishing touches that define the entire book.  During the picture-painting, the characters take up residence in my mind, and will remain there until the story’s end.  Because the book is now living in my mind, I feel as though I’ve made a new friend.  It is for this reason that I say the feeling of finishing a good book is bittersweet.  My new friend, this book, has nothing more to tell me, but yet its message, given that it’s a good one, will live on in my mind as I ponder the meaning behind it.

One such story whose message I still ponder is “Through the Looking-Glass.”  Alice’s residency in my mind began when I first spotted the worn copy of the book perched on the bookcase in the front room of my house.  My mother has a tendency to gravitate toward old books when the family goes “antiquing.”  It must have been on one such antiquing occasion that she scavenged the copy of “Through the Looking-Glass” that I happened upon one October Saturday.  The moment I opened the cover of the book, I was met with that delightfully enchanting “old book” aroma.  The sunlight streaming through the window lit the dust that flew from its pages as I fanned them apart.  Throughout the month, “Through the Looking Glass” went everywhere with me.  Sitting on the floor in the corridor of Aberdeen Hall is how I did the majority of my reading.  Because I waited at the very end of the hallway, I saw little traffic, so it was the perfect place to immerse myself into Alice’s world.  It was mostly there that I had the chance to lose myself in the story, to forget the rest of the commotion in the real world.  I got to go through the looking-glass with Alice, and as I followed her through the land of backwards dreaming and nonsensical exchanges, I realized that the real world is far too boring.  I would much rather spend my days sharing cake with unicorns and lions than becoming caught up in the same hum-drum of daily life.  During the time I spent reading “Through the Looking-Glass,” I started to develop a unique perspective of the world.  I began to look at things as not only what they were, but also what they were not, and what they could be if they became what they were not.  Really, my imagination experienced a change during my time reading “Through the Looking-Glass.”  Much like Alice, I think of things differently after having ventured into the looking-glass.  Because of this boosted imagination I seem to have developed, I feel that I have become a better thinker.  The ideas I develop have more color.  For this, Mr. Carroll, I must thank you.

Sadly, as with all stories, “Through the Looking-Glass” had to come to an end.  I had the opportunity to finish Alice’s story on the floor of Aberdeen Hall, but I didn’t take it.  The event of finishing the book seemed much too sacred to happen in such an open place.  So, I waited until the day was over and I was in my parked car.  The lot was relatively empty, and I had always parked in the last spaces anyway, so I felt alone enough to finish the story.  So, I opened the old book to page 184 and read the last chapter.  As Alice came out of the looking-glass world and was left pondering the certain dream she’d just experienced, I felt as though I too was returning from the looking-glass world with Alice.  As I heard that bittersweet sound of cover falling onto page, I took away the realization that we all have our own looking-glass imaginations that we step into every so often, and occasionally, I find that in a reality of chaos and confusion, my imagination is sometimes the place that makes the most sense.

With praise, thanks, and regard from my own looking-glass world,

                ~Jessica Edwards-Smith

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Envelope Art I drew for the letter. . . so it can arrive in style ;)