Terminei ontem o segundo livro que leio de Lewis Carrol, (o primeiro foi Alice's Adventures in Wonderland), Through the Looking-Glass (and what Alice found there). Não é nada de muito especial, mas é bom em vários aspectos. Para quem gosta de nonsense é ótimo. Parece um sonho, com todos os elementos absurdos e quase reais. Uma das coisas que eu achei mais interessante é o fato de, em muitas cenas, os personagens serem "coerentes em seu nonsense" e a Alice parecer errada ou louca. Exemplo:

`Come, we shall have some fun now!` thought Alice, `I'm glad they've begun asking riddles - I believe I can guess that,` she added aloud.
`Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?` said the March Hare.
`Exactly so,` said Alice.
`Then you should say what you mean,` the March Hare went on.
`I do,` Alice hastily replied; `at least - at least I mean what I say - that's the same thing, you know.`
`Not the same thing a bit!` said the Hatter. `Why, you might just as well say that "I see what I eat" is the same thing as "I eat what I see"!`
`You might just as well say,` added the March Hare, `that "I like what I get" is the same thing as "I get what I like"!"
`You might just as well say,` added the Dormouse, which seemed to be talking in its sleep, `that "I breathe when I sleep" is the same thing as "I sleep when I breathe"!`

Se bem que isto é do primeiro livro e nem foi um exemplo assim tão bom.
O final do livro é um poema (lembram que o outro também começou com um?) que eu acho que foi exatamente o espírito do autor ao escrever o livro. Acho que lerei esta coisa para os meus filhos...

"A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July -

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear -

Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Sitll she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream -
Lingering in the golden gleam -
Life, what is it but a dream?"