Disney’s 1951 adaptation of Lewis Carrol’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is a true masterpiece, a whimsical tale of a girl who tumbles into a rabbit hole and winds up in a strange world of mad tea parties, singing flowers, and size-changing mushrooms. The film ends with Alice waking up and heading home for tea, dismissing her journey as just a very strange dream. But an upcoming sequel Disney is releasing to celebrate the film’s 75th anniversary sends Alice back down the rabbit hole again.
Wondrous by Heather Fawcett, the author of Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries, is set in 19th century London years after the film. Alice’s parents want to marry her off to a Baron to protect their estate, but she would rather open a traveling magic tea shop. When she returns to Wonderland to follow her dreams, she discovers that many versions of Alice have appeared there, each claiming to be the real one. The Queen decides to test them by making them stop a trio of mock dragons, and anyone who fails will be exiled from Wonderland forever.
Before Wondrous hits bookstores and other outlets on Oct. 6, Random House and Disney gave Polygon an exclusive excerpt of the YA novel to share. In the book’s first chapter, Alice flees her responsibilities and sets out on a new adventure.
Once I was certain of my footing, I reached back through the window and lifted my suitcase over the sill, then dropped it below me. I made it to the bottom, where Tansy waited, watching me with glee. I believe she would have laughed if I had fallen, but she seemed to enjoy the drama of my success and clapped when my feet touched the ground.
“Thank you,” I said. I knelt before my niece, feeling that I ought to say goodbye, ideally in a wise way that Tansy would remember as she grew older.
But before I could, the little girl turned and dashed away. Our adventure was over, and now she was off to stuff herself with strawberries until she was sick.
Shoving aside the guilt, which was accompanied by an odd pinch of regret, I hefted my suitcase and set off.
My father’s estate was large, consisting of fields and forests woven with paths and streams, and it took me a long time to cross it. I couldn’t help glaring at the fields as I went by. I had overheard my parents talking in hushed voices about those fields just the other day, and about how, if I didn’t marry the Baron and soon, they would have to consider selling them.
The fields were pretty in the daylight, a mixture of sheep-trimmed grass and wildflower meadows, now hidden in darkness. I felt a familiar anger rise up within me. I am not a field! I wanted to shout, and it was true. My parents didn’t equate us at all. A daughter could be bartered away, while a field could not.
A daughter could be bartered away, while a field could not.
I hurried on and at last came to the public park that bordered Father’s estate. Everything was so dark and unfamiliar, and I had the strangest sense that, if I turned around, I would see someone following me. Once or twice, I thought I could hear their footsteps. Or perhaps my own ghost was behind me, the ghost of the girl who had first fallen down the rabbit hole, chasing me as I’d chased the White Rabbit.
Naturally, these ghoulish thoughts only made me run faster.
At last I reached the rabbit hole, which glowed faintly in the moonlight. I shoved my way in, scraping my knees in my haste. It was a narrower fit than it had been a year ago. I reached the edge, where the rabbit hole sloped down, down, down, and there I stopped.
The hedgehog bit me encouragingly
“Ready, Hedgewitch?” I said. The hedgehog bit me encouragingly. Oh, how I missed Dinah, my sweet-tempered cat! But my parents had taken Dinah away from me last year and given her to my distant cousin, partly as a punishment and partly as a reward to dangle in exchange for my good behavior.
I supposed I would never see her again.
A strange assortment of smells wafted up from that dark hole: the salty brine of the ocean, freshly baked biscuits, lush gardens and trees. I drew a steadying deep breath, because I didn’t know if I would ever go back home.
And I didn’t care.
When I leapt off the edge, it felt less like I was falling and more like Wonderland was hurrying to greet me, like a beloved friend after a long absence.