One of the episodes in Lewis Carrol’s Alice in Wonderland describes how her size varies in an alarming fashion. At one moment she is trapped in the house of the White Rabbit, having drunk from the little bottle labelled “Drink me”. As a consequence of having done so she grows to an enormous size, so that at one point her arm is up the chimney and her leg protrudes through one of the windows. I was thinking about this episode earlier this evening, as an effective metaphor for my current condition.
I really have had enough of this isolation regime now, even ‘though we were able to get out for a country walk yesterday afternoon. It feels as if I am compelled to live in a tiny space that is far too small. This is not just, or even primarily, a sensation of physical constriction. I acknowledge that we are very fortunate indeed not only to have a house that is reasonably spacious, but also a garden. Somehow the world has become too small, however, and on every side we are compressed by the presence of and implications of this wretched virus. There is a prevailing sense of oppression and frustration. I am beginning to understand the wildly unreasonable behaviour of some people who last week-end grabbed a few days of loose control and who responded by indulging briefly in a manic appropriation of public space.
The most disturbing aspect of current experience is the way in which the sense of constriction invades one’s interior world. Somehow there is less room for thought, and creativity is smothered. The most creative thing I have done today is to plant a few beetroot seeds! I passed more time than I wanted to doing a jig-saw puzzle. One might have expected that the reduction of the number and intensity of external demands on my time might have been experienced as liberating. Indeed, several weeks ago I was able to notice a lessening of the sense of pressure in life. In fact, there was a period of several weeks in which I was able to paint and draw with a degree of creative freedom. Suddenly, however, that time has come to an end. Now I’m seizing on tasks in order to fill time. I do not know what to do.
Right now I fancy some of those little cakes that enabled Alice to regain her normal size. It would be better still, of course, if I could live in a larger world.