Story

Alice Notes (From RJ Berg & American McGee Chats - July 17,2018)

The Alice Trilogy

• Chronology
  • Alice: Asylum 1863-73
  • AMA 1873-74—————rename this?
  • Alice: MR 1874-75

1860-63

Alice, a bright child with a susceptible imagination, “meets” Wonderland, an exciting refuge from her predictable, staid middle-class life in Oxford. She returns often because:

* It’s loaded with marvelous characters and exotic locations

* It’s safe. Though often threatened, she’s never physically harmed

* It’s filled with unique, but appealing physical and mental challenges

Wonderland supplies:

*Vivid, high-wire (if juvenile) drama;

*Multiple brands of fun;

*Manageable fears, the overcoming of which build her confidence

Likely that during 1860-63, as she ages, she’d find, on return “visits,” that some of the familiar, more fanciful Wonderland locations/options would have morphed slightly— others might have disappeared. Not all characters would survive her maturation; some would have changed roles/sides. Still, Wonderland is the refuge of choice as she enters adolescence.

ALICE ASYLUM
Story opens in the hospital (St. Bart’s)

CINEMATIC

Two doctors enter Alice’s room, approach her bed; she’s supine, motionless.

Doctor, waving file, reviews the “facts” of her case.

VERSION 1

1. “Face it, Grantham; she’s virtually deaf, dumb, and blind.”
2. “She survived the fire, Doctor, but her loss . . .

1. “Her burns have healed; she’s been comatose for months.”
2. “Silence is often the sign of suffering and trauma . . .

1. “But what of insanity? She used to scream constantly—without cause, purpose, or result. Her mind is obviously gone. She registers no pain, no discomfort; apparently feels nothing; obviously hears nothing; and hasn’t opened her eyes in weeks.
2. “She is damaged, Doctor. But she will heal. She just needs time.”

1. She’s wasted enough of mine already. And yours. I’m sorry, Grantham, but your “therapies” are useless to her . . .and to you. They’re at odds with the hospital’s best practices and failure needlessly threatens your reputation. In my judgment it's time to shift her to a more appropriate facility—Bedlam or another asylum. As a simple matter of fact, better use could be made of her bed. Nothing more can be done for her here.”

VERSION 2

Doctor, St. Bart’s Managing Director, enters Alice’s room, approaches her bed; she’s supine, motionless. He’s angry, waves a file, and rants:

“ You’ve made no progress Alice. You refuse to even try. Grantham was a good and decent man. And what did it get him? “Bedlam’s the place for you, Alice; you’ll fit right in with maniacs and hopeless reprobates warehoused there.” You’re a raving lunatic. Bart’s cannot cure your craziness. We certainly can’t afford it. Your money is exhausted. You refuse to improve. You ruined Grantham’s career and caused his demise. You won’t ruin mine. I’m a professional. I do not fail. Heal yourself, you wicked girl.”

CINEMATIC

As doctor(s)move out of the ward, camera shifts so we see their backs; as it closes-up on Alice’s face; her eyes open suddenly; her stare is not reassuring. She’s heard it all. FTB

November 4, 1864

CINEMATIC

Nearly a year to the date of the fire, she is awake but, silent, uncommunicative.

Two nurses, big winged hats, are beside Alice’s bed. Their conversation offers time, place, situation

1. “She just stares. Matron says it’s a ‘psycolic breakdown’.”
2. “Psychotic,’ I think! Like Dr. Grantham. Off his nut, he was.”

1. “Matron says Alice is to blame.”
2. “Drove him ‘round the bend’ no doubt.”

1. “She’s been here a year; ‘exhausted our resources.’ Matron says. She’s to RUTLEDGE ASYLUM in a day or two.
2. “Like to see the back of her, creepy little git.”

They leave.

Alice now THINKS she knows why Grantham, who was becoming deranged, has disappeared. She thinks Grantham lost the “battle for her sanity,” that having failed in his mission (to “cure” her) and “broken” his promise to her thereby, he’d killed himself. She sits up, bangs her head against the bedstead until she passes out.

November 11 1864—April 1, 1865 Alice (according to the Dr. Hieronymous Q.Wilson’s casebook to AMA,) arrived at Rutledge on a stretcher, her head encased in bandages. She’s had what he calls an “accident” at St. Bart’s. The action of ALICE ASYLUM takes place in this 6-month window.

What didn’t travel with Alice’s file from St. Barts. Just because she didn’t talk didn’t mean she wasn’t listening She knows about the fire. Unresolved questions about her survival confound her She’s heard discussion about sending her to the infamous asylum, Bedlam. Dr. Grantham, distraught, is dead. Alice is beset by new grief; mourning her loss, the disappearance of her only friend/ally in the real world. Why? Did she cause him to “go”? Is it her fault? Did she not show improvement. Is constant, permanent loss and resulting sadness her fate? The minuscule chards of her stability disintegrate. She was nearly ready to seek refuge in her brain’s favorite place. She’s been reluctant to pollute her happy place with the toxic recollections of the fire and the death of Grantham.

THE GAME Alice, nearly 13, musing in bed, talking to herself with things like “They must be gone; or they’d come to visit; on holiday without me.” “What’s wrong with me?” “Was the fire my fault?” “Who’s to blame—if not me?’ “Did they save me and lose themselves” “Why did I survive?” “Did Dinah escape?” “Where is that Cheshire Cat?” “ If I could just . . . “If only . . . etc., etc.

She alone survived the fire. But, she doesn’t quite believe it. “IT” is the fire, the death of her whole family, and her survival.

In her fragile state, she’s wondered if/(pretended?) this is all a dream, a vivid nightmare. She’s hoped it. She’s invested in the dream. She’s wondered if she might create an alternative ending—so the dream might be easier to manage/cope with or just disappear. But she knows something is wrong. And often she has lucid visions of the horror. But one day, when she’s feeling (relatively)“strong,” she closes her eyes, to “sleep . . .perchance to dream”—and risks a retreat to her treasured Wonderland.

She arrives. But, if not for a fleeting glimpse of a RABBIT, wherever it is she has “landed” would be unrecognizable. Wonderland the refuge, its familiar geography and topography, has been blown apart, fragmented like her mind. There’s nothing familiar, comforting, consoling, safe, or enjoyable about it.

This Wonderland is a series of islands suspended in space—small planets in a sunless, starless galaxy. Her domestic tragedy seems to have triggered a cosmic event, a big bang. Wonderland has morphed into unstable and dangerous domains. The planets are in retrograde jetting away from a once benign core; lit by fire, nuclear fuel, coal, candles,, gas etc. Each planet (LEVEL) is uniquely symbolic; uniquely populated with familiar or vaguely reminiscent characters, decorated, and equipped with unique challenges, enemies, weapons, “toys,” etc. Each is primarily associated (not co-terminous) with a STAGE of Grief. Each could be associated with significant (if not always intelligible) astrological and alchemical signs, color schemes, nursery rhymes, obscure Victorian references and odd bits or popular culture.

Alice perceives the likelihood of a link between her (certain though non-specific) damaged self and this strange version of Wonderland. To fix this alien, “broken” incarnation and return it to “normal,” she intuits, may help her help herself. But, like Humpty Dumpty after the fall, she can’t do it. It’s a fool’s errand (she’ll realize eventually). Doomed to failure. Not possible; not even desirable. Too much has changed. She’s lost too much. Still, her awareness of the enormity of the challenge, (and the impossibility of success as she defines it) won’t stop her from trying to reconstruct, cure, resurrect, overcome, etc., etc.

LEVELS The first and final levels might be the only ones that Alice visits “in order.” The first level might be the only one selectable when the game begins. ALL other levels might become selectable after the first is “completed.” The final level would only be selectable after all the other levels have been completed.

The levels could be the principle repositories (representatives) of the traditional STAGES of grief—Denial, Anger& Guilt, Bargaining, Depression (Despair), and Acceptance. But the stage and the eponymous level are not synonymous. Alice might “find” Anger and/or Depression, for example, in the level whose emphasis (and “name?”) is Denial. Multiple stages might be represented/confronted but only tentatively resolved in single Level. The stages are “managed,” not really overcome. Alice might meet/express/expose DENIAL, which is usually considered to be the first stage of grief, in any Level. There is no linear progression through the stages—they are not stops on some linear timeline (of grief).

The Levels might have names that suggest the STAGES No Noh (Denial). E.g., No is the answer to everything. No one “knows” anything. No help, no relief, no consolation or resolution) No Skill (Noh) Ire-Land (Anger) Golden Gilt (Bargaining) Tombstone (Depression) Resolution (Acceptance)

FIRST LEVEL If she could only find the Cheshire Cat, she thinks, he might help her. He was mysterious, a little odd but not malignant on her youthful visits. He certainly knows things. He must still be somewhere in this altered landscape and he “likely” has more than information. When found, however he is more a Cheshire Kitten. He doesn’t, at this point, even know the value of what he knows.

FINAL LEVEL The final level will need to accommodate/set up the Alice in AMA—including her state of mind, her maturity, her appearance, the “new” incarnation of Wonderland, her progress/her challenges—the “reasons” why she has to spend another 8 years at Rutledge.

VICTORY What does victory look like? A win in Wonderland and/or a defeat in Rutledge. The final “victory” of ALICE: ASYLUM—all the battles won, enemies dispatched/neutralized/converted in game play notwithstanding—is that Alice is able to achieve an understanding/acceptance of her grief—its causes and its effects. This victory is obviously qualified, uncertain, elusive, and sad. But it is victory, and is the necessary condition of her returning to Wonderland (AMA), and handling its multiple changes, which are a function and result of her own changes. Victory in AMA, leads to her release from Rutledge,

Accepting the hurt/damage/sadness of the loss DOES NOT MEAN—“achieving closure,” or “forgetting” or “coming to terms with” the loss. It DOES MEAN that the denial, anger, guilt, and depression that she feels—constantly but in no particular order—may ebb and flow, but may never disappear entirely.

As Cat might say, for example: “You cope with grief. You do not conquer it.” “Depression is a condition. It is also an addiction.” “The fights you win in dreams are still victories” Alice says: “I suppose it depends on the fight.” Cat says: “I know it depends on the dream.”

Alice finishes ALICE ASYLUM alone, lapses into self-induced coma. Need a motive for cat’s absence (and reappearance in a vastly different guise in AMA). Night be an “operative” McGuffin perhaps an ineffectual one—not the answer to Alice’s problems. Either way: She must heal herself.

AMERICAN MCGEE’S ALICE September 7, 1873—1874 After eight years of “slumber” she wakes, signals that she wants paper and pen and she draws “a cat”; after that, triggered by the Rabbit “repair”, she speaks (in rhyme). her first conventional speech in 10 years. Naturally, she’s matured physically, and It becomes clear that she has matured mentally as well. She has a more sophisticated sense of the world and her situation. Not necessarily comforted by her “understanding.” In fact, the world is more disturbing.

She revisits (is driven back to) Wonderland; it has altered to reflect what she met, negotiated, and won in ALICE: ASYLUM. She finds cat “much changed.” Several locations, options, and characters have morphed again; others have disappeared. The Red Queen once again threatens murder, but Alice knows her game.

Her return visits to Wonderland become comments and revelations as she continues to “talk” with Dr. Wilson. She’s most often cogent; but just as often in ways that make no sense to him. Fitful progress; Step forward—then three steps back. She has an alter ego that is at extreme variance with her actual self. But, through gameplay, he does see progress. He sees her gaining strength; resolution; purpose. He wants to help her leave Rutledge. She’s gaining on her neurosis, but, if he’s honest, she’s got a long way to go—and he might not make it to the finish line with her. Working her way through AMA, she thinks/feels she’s ready to live in the “real” world. She has learned that she must accept (own, as is frequently said today) her grief and it’s manifestations. Alice leaves Rutledge (not unharmed). Wonderland, its function, its presence, its appearance, its significance has changed forever. Layers of meaning, experience have been added to it. Layers have been lost.

ALICE: MADNESS RETURNS (1875) In A:MR, a different set of feelings—powerful, traumatic, and deeply disturbing—are triggered by her memories. Her years of suffering—her mental anguish, her guilt, her denial—had to be endured, if not completely overcome, for her to find the truth of her tragedy and move on.

Hatter doesn’t have the McGuffin. Either there is no McGuffin; or the McGuffin, like the Hatter, is ineffectual—not the answer to Alice’s problems. She must heal herself