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Accepting the Inevitable
E3 Haroun Alice
by acathcar

In both Salman Rushdie’s Haroun and the Sea of Stories and Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There, a young character is presented with a world where everything is predetermined. Although the Sea of Stories and the Looking-Glass chessboard differ greatly on a superficial level, they both fundamentally lead to inevitable plots. Both novels show characters that are forced to deal with predetermined plot lines; however, Alice and Haroun react quite differently from one another. While Haroun rejects his inescapable, manufactured happy ending, Alice adheres to the rules of the chessboard and is ultimately empowered by its predictable structure.

In Salman Rushdie’s Haroun and the Sea of Stories, young Haroun questions his father’s fantastic storytelling abilities. Known as both “Rashid the Ocean of Notions” and the “Shah of Blah” (15) to his admirers and critics respectively, Haroun’s father is famous for his amazing fairy-tales. Once Haroun realizes that Rashid “subscribes” (17) to the Story Sea, he discovers that all stories are born from older stories. These recycled stories inevitably lead to clichés, as story endings become predetermined and certainly predictable. Ultimately, Haroun realizes that his adventure is only another example of a clichéd ending, one that disappoints Haroun greatly.

As “everything comes from somewhere,” Haroun discovers that Rashid subscribes to “the great Story Sea” (17), proving that his tales are far from original. Although anyone can create a tale, the best stories “with that Extra Ingredient…need the Story Waters.” Thus, Rashid uses the Story Sea to find inspiration for his tales. Apparently, “storytelling needs fuel, just like a car; and if you don’t have the Water, you just run out of Steam” (58). Within this story sea, “different currents, each one a different colour, [weave] in and out of one another like a liquid tapestry of breathtaking complexity.” Haroun learns that “these [are] the Streams of Story, that each coloured strand represent[s] and contain[s] a single tale” (72). From this great ocean of stories, storytellers like Rashid receive their magical adventures.

As they are “held in fluid form, [the stories] retain the ability to change, to become new versions of themselves, to join up with other stories and so become yet other stories” (72); thus, new stories are constantly created from the old ones. Different creatures help facilitate this, none more than the “Plentimaw Fishes” (84). Just as “there are plenty more fish in the sea” (43), there are numerous more stories to be created from those already in the sea. These Plentimaw Fishes “swallow stories…and in their innards miracles occur; a little bit of one story joins on to an idea from another, and…when they spew the stories out they are not old tales but new ones” (86). By mixing stories together, “new stories are born from old – it is the new combinations that make them new” (86). Clearly, there is no such thing as an original story in this world: all stories originate from one another and build off of each other.

Similarly, Haroun’s two guides, Iff and Butt, illustrate how “a figure of speech is a shifty thing [that] can be twisted or it can be straight” (33). Like their names, the two characters constantly offer new ideas and alternative courses of action. In fiction, the words “if” and “but” can offer plot twists and greatly alter a tale. In the Sea of Stories, Iff and Butt are literal engines of fiction constantly helping create new adventures out of the old. As “any story worth its salt can handle a little shaking up” (79), the Plentimaw Fishes, as well as Iff and Butt, prove that new stories can be made from those that already exist.

Unfortunately, this form of recycling leads to the rampant existence of clichéd stories. At one point, Haroun marvels at the way his father creates stories: “out would pop some brand-new saga, complete with…princesses, wicked uncles, fat aunts, [and] mustachioed gangsters in yellow check pants” (17). However, Rashid’s tale is far from a “brand-new saga.” Rather, all of his tales have the same predictable qualities: Haroun has no problem listing a dozen traits he finds in each one of his father’s tales. As Haroun discovers, there are thousands of similar “Princess Rescue Stories” that only differ slightly, and onboard the boat “Arabian Nights Plus One,” there is “the entire collection of tales known as The Ocean and the Streams of Story” where one can always find material (51). Clearly, when a type of story is used so many times, even if its form is changed slightly, it becomes clichéd.

Although he restores his father’s gift of gab and reunites with his mother at the end of Salman Rushdie’s Haroun and the Sea of Stories, Haroun finds the fairy-tale, miraculous ending to his adventure disappointing. Haroun learns that the Walrus and the P2C2E can “synthesize [happy endings] artificially” (201) and returns home with the hope that happiness will fill his sad city. Unfortunately, he discovers that the changes are superficial: “nothing’s really changed… [as] the sadness factories are still in production… [and] almost everybody is still poor” (208). In the end, Haroun’s “bottled happiness” (208) proves to be “the exception, not the rule” (201), only because it is completely “fake” (208) and forced upon the people of Alifbay. Ultimately, the ending is as clichéd and predictable as the numerous recycled stories within the Story Sea.

In Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There, Alice is presented with a similar situation to that of Haroun. In the Looking-Glass world, there exists a large, life-size chessboard upon which Alice must make her way. The chessboard predetermines the structure of Alice’s adventures: she knows exactly where she is going and how she will get there from the very start. As Alice makes her way across the chessboard, she still maintains the limited power of a pawn. However, like a pawn and its player, Alice becomes more of a threat to the opposing side and more skillful in executing her moves as she nears the eighth square. Despite the inevitability of the novel’s predetermined ending, Alice is empowered by the chessboard and learns to work within its predictable structure to her own advantage.

From the very beginning, Carroll lays out the rules of chess and how the game will dictate the action within the story. In the preface, he explains that the “White Pawn (Alice) [will] play, and win in eleven moves” (132). Upon entering the Looking-Glass, Alice discovers that the land is literally “marked out just like a large chessboard” (163). The brooks and hedges that traverse the countryside conveniently divide the ground into actual squares, just like on a chessboard. As a pawn, Alice’s task is to make her way across the chessboard of the Looking-Glass world until she reaches the other side and can be crowned Queen. Throughout the story, the rules of chess are strictly observed. Alice is careful to never “exchange words with a piece that is not then on a square alongside her own” (134). Similarly, she learns that she cannot change her mind, as “no move in chess can be taken back” (255). It is immediately clear that Alice will be forced to follow the rules of chess while she is within this world. In addition to having to follow the rules of chess, Alice’s entire course is laid out by the Red Queen. The Red Queen explains to Alice her preplanned route, detailing who Alice will encounter in each square. Unsurprisingly, Alice moves across the chessboard just as the Red Queen predicted. As foretold by the Red Queen, Alice reaches “the Eighth Square at last” where she receives “a golden crown” (248). Thus, before Alice even enters the Looking-Glass world, her entire route and subsequent adventures have already been decided.

When Alice first enters the Looking-Glass, she is in control of her actions and can even assert dominance over other pieces. When she notices the Queen and King struggling to climb a table, Alice “[picks] up the Queen and set[s] her on the table” (145) and then does the same to the King. As neither piece can see Alice, they are shocked by her actions. By accident, when Alice puts the King down, he “immediately [falls] flat on his back” which happens to mimic the movement in chess that “signifies defeat” (147). Later, when the King attempts to write a memorandum to himself, Alice writes for him by taking hold of the end of the pencil. He tries to fight the phantom power that is controlling him, but “Alice [is] too strong for him” (147). Both of these instances demonstrate Alice’s authority within the Looking-Glass house.

However, her command and superiority is short-lived. While making her way down the staircase toward the garden, Alice appears to be controlled by a higher power just as she controlled the poor King and Queen: “She just kept the tips of her fingers on the hand-rail, and floated gently down without even touching the stairs with her feet” (150). Once on the life-size chessboard, Alice quickly learns to obey the aforementioned rules of the chessboard and realizes she can’t fight her destiny. She even argues that “one ca’n’t believe impossible things” (199). Similarly, Alice is overwhelmed by the Looking-Glass world and the characters she meets. She is repeatedly confused by their numerous poems and puns, which is not surprising considering Alice is only seven years old. For instance, while speaking to the Tiger-Lily she misses the flower’s pun: “In most gardens…they make the beds too soft – so that the flowers are always asleep” (159). In response, Alice declares, “I never thought of that before!” (159) and assumes that the Tiger-Lily’s point is valid. As Alice enters the chessboard, she begins to take what the various creatures say at face value and is often prey to their antagonistic efforts. Alice is truly a pawn within this chess game.

Fortunately, as Alice progresses across the board and becomes closer to the eighth and final square, she starts to regain control. For instance, when Humpty-Dumpty makes a particularly rude and inappropriate comment to Alice, she objects. She decides that she “[has] had quite enough of the subject of age…and, if they really [are] to take turns in choosing subjects, it [should be] her turn” (211). Likewise, when Humpty-Dumpty insists that words mean what he says they mean, Alice wonders “whether you can make words mean so many different things” (213). As she nears the end of her quest, Alice learns to question the rules of the chessboard and begins to assert control over the situation, proving that she is adapting to this world.

Finally, once she becomes Queen, Alice gains confidence and breaks the rules of the Looking-Glass world, or at least those set by her fellow chess pieces. She refuses to wait to speak until after she has been spoken to as “if you only spoke when you were spoken to, and the other person always waited for you to begin…nobody would every say anything” (251). She also rejects the two Queens’ attempt to give her a test, asking the Queens if they can answer their questions themselves. Then, at her coronation, Alice “[doesn’t] see why the Red Queen should be the only one to give orders; so, as an experiment, she call[s] out “Waiter! Bring back the pudding!” and there it was again in a moment, like a conjuring-trick” (262). By this point, Alice has learned to use the Looking-Glass rules to her advantage. She knew from the very beginning she would become Queen and has accepted her role and its accompanying power wholeheartedly.

Ultimately, Alice captures the Red Queen, resulting “in a legitimate checkmate of the Red King, who has slept throughout the entire chess problem without moving” (266). The chess game ends and Alice returns to reality where she discovers the Red Queen “really was a kitten, after all” (268). Although Alice worries about whether the Red King dreamt it all, the point becomes irrelevant once it is clear that the entire adventure originated from her plea to her little kitten: “Kitty, dear, let’s pretend…that you’re the Red Queen” (141). Thus, the Looking-Glass world is a figment of her imagination, proving that the chess game was always ruled by Alice.

Haroun and the Sea of Stories and Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There present inevitable plots that Haroun and Alice must overcome. Ultimately, Haroun is appalled by the manufactured happy ending he receives. Instead of fighting it, he resigns himself to its predictability, assuming it is a necessary resolution in the Sea of Stories and impossible to change. On the other hand, Alice adheres to the rules of the chessboard and is ultimately empowered by its predictable structure. She understands that her life and actions within the Looking-Glass world are predetermined, but she learns to use these rules to her advantage. She becomes more empowered as she nears the eighth and final square. Haroun and the Looking Glass both present uniquely predetermined plots, forcing the reader to decide whether one can truly fight the inevitable and question whether he too would so willingly accept his fate.

May 12, 2005, 10:00 AM

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