♛ My designs for the Red Queen and White Queen

As promised!

This was originally going to be a scattered smattering of thoughts; it still very well might turn out to be just that‚ but never mind… let’s get into it.

Firstly:

Focalization (n): a narratological term coined in 1972 by Gérard Genette‚ Frenchman extraordinaire‚ in his Narrative Discourse: A Essay In Method‚ and argued over ever since (what does it MEAN mean? Where are the boundaries between different types of focalization? How is it different from point of view‚ again?* Is it worth using at all when it is such a giant headache?**)

aka

“referring to the perspective from which a narrative is presented.”

*it’s sexier.

**Absolutely yes.

Old Genette explained it by saying that the focalizer sees while the narrator speaks‚ but subsequent narratologists are skeptical (understatement) of this on the grounds of “it’s too reductive‚” which‚ to throw in my two cents‚ reducing focalization down to LITERAL VISION, LIKE WITH EYEBALLS, is a little bit unbelievably (ahem) shortsighted. We will use his theory for now though because it’s easier and I don’t want to go hunting for the other papers I saved.

Anyway‚ according to Genette, focalization comes in 3 types. If we ignore all the smart and insightful discourse (it pains me too‚ I’m sorry) exploring these types‚ we have a simple formula: internal focalization (narrator = character‚ not literally‚ not always‚ but the narrator knows exactly as much as the character does); external focalization (narrator < character‚ the narrator knows less than the character(s)‚ is an “objective voice”); and zero focalization (narrator > character(s)‚ narrator knows more).

On to Alice!

You will all thank me for graciously sparing you the splatter of words I produced when I was mulling through the ‘type’ of focalization used in Alice. In my defense‚ the narrative itself is what lends to a muddy answer. Well‚ what we can be sure of is that there is a focalizer (our eponymous character‚ through whose ‘eyes’ the story unfolds); we aren’t privy to anyone’s thoughts or perceptions but Alice’s. What is confusing is that‚ while this would normally indicate internal focalization (and that is the conclusion I’ve come to‚ feel free to argue it), one also associates internal focalization with something not present in Alice…

…This is where I make a brief tangent about something related to but separate from focalization. ‘Psychic distance’ (known also as narrative distance; I like the drama of “psychic”) is how close a narrator is to the storyworld elements they describe‚ how ‘zoomed in’ they are‚ more or less.

When it comes to focalization‚ internal focalization tends to mean that the psychic distance is very zoomed in. To put it in POV terms‚ think first-person or third-person limited in your favorite stories.

The thing about psychic distance in Alice is that it is remarkably wide. Zoomed far out. The narrator and Alice are distinct entities; the narrator possesses its own voice. In fact‚ not only does the narrator not use Alice’s names for characters and places (“The Mouse” instead of “Mouse‚” etc)‚ as one would expect‚ they regularly snark (haha‚ fun fact‚ that’s a word Carroll invented himself!) about her lack of knowledge of non-storyworld things like math and history and politeness‚ essentially dunking on the poor kid when she can’t defend herself. (“‘Perhaps it doesn’t understand English,’ thought Alice. ‘I daresay it’s a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror.’ (For, with all her knowledge of history, Alice had no very clear notion how long ago anything had happened.)”)

We end up with a jarring sort of double-image that lends itself to wondering and spirited debate—me, I’ve tentatively settled on the answer given above. Personally speaking‚ trying as I am to dash out a post with my thoughts and analysis as quickly as possible‚ it’s a bit of a nuisance and a headache‚ but also a lively narrative-piece‚ and‚ I would say‚ very much in the spirit of Carroll‚ after all.