Is it any wonder that a poem, based upon such an explanation, should be a perfect bundle of nonsense? But we know from experience that Lewis Carroll’s nonsense was not stupidity, and that not one verse in all that delightful bundle missed its own special meaning and purpose.
We do not propose to find the key to this remarkable work—for two reasons: first, because there are different keys for different minds; and second, because the unexplainable things in many cases come nearer the “mind’s eye,” as Shakespeare calls it, without words. We cannot tell why we understand such and such a thing, but we do understand it, and that is enough—quite according to Lewis Carroll’s ideas, for he always appeals to our imagination and that is never guided by rules. The higher it soars, the more fantastic the region over which it hovers, the nearer it gets to the land of “make believe,” “let’s pretend” and “supposing,” the better pleased is Lewis Carroll. In a delightful letter to some American children, published in The Critic shortly after his death, he gives his own ideas as to the meaning of the Snark.
“I’m very much afraid I didn’t mean anything but nonsense,” he wrote; “still you know words mean more than we mean to express when we use them, so a whole book ought to mean a great deal more than the writer means. So whatever good meanings are in the book, I shall be glad to accept as the meaning of the book. The best that I’ve seen is by a lady (she published it in a letter to a newspaper) that the whole book is an allegory on the search after happiness. I think this fits beautifully in many ways, particularly about the bathing machines; when people get weary of life, and can’t find happiness in towns or in books, then they rush off to the seaside to see what bathing machines will do for them.”
Taking this idea for the foundation of the poem, it is easy to explain Fit the First, better named The Landing, though where they landed it is almost impossible to say.
“Just the place for a Snark,” the Bellman cried, and, as he stated this fact three distinct times, it was undoubtedly true. That was the Bellman’s rule—once was uncertain, twice was possible, three times was “dead sure.” And the Bellman being a person of some authority, ought to have known. The crew consisted of a Boots, a Maker of Bonnets and Hoods, a Barrister, a Broker, a Billiard-marker, a Banker, a Beaver, a Butcher, and a nameless being who passed for the Baker, and who, in the end, turned out to be the luckless victim of the Snark. He is thus beautifully described:
“There was one who was famed for a number of things
He forgot when he entered the ship:
His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,
And the clothes he had brought for the trip.
“He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
With his name painted clearly on each:
But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
They were all left behind on the beach.
“The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
He had seven coats on when he came,
With three pair of boots—but the worst of it was,
He had wholly forgotten his name.
“He would answer to ‘Hi!’ or to any loud cry,
Such as ‘Fry me!’ or ‘Fritter my wig!’
To ‘What-you-may-call-um!’ or ‘What-was-his-name!’
But especially ‘Thing-um-a-jig!’
“While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
He had different names from these:
His intimate friends called him ‘Candle-ends,’
And his enemies ‘Toasted-cheese.’
“‘His form is ungainly, his intellect small’
(So the Bellman would often remark);
‘But his courage is perfect! and that, after all,
Is the thing that one needs with a Snark.’
“He would joke with hyenas, returning their stare
With an impudent wag of the head:
And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw with a bear,
‘Just to keep up its spirits,’ he said.
“He came as a Baker: but owned when too late—
And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad—
He could only bake Bride-cake, for which I may state,
No materials were to be had.”
Notice how ingeniously the actors in this drama are introduced; all the “B’s,” as it were, buzzing after the phantom of happiness, which eludes them, no matter how hard they struggle to find it. Notice, too, that all these beings are unmarried, a fact shown by the Baker not being able to make a bride-cake as there are no materials on hand. All these creatures, while hunting for happiness, came to prey upon each other. The Butcher only killed Beavers, the Barrister was hunting among his fellow sailors for a good legal case. The Banker took charge of all their cash, for it certainly takes money to hunt properly for a Snark, and it is a well-known fact that bankers need all the money they can get.
Fit the Second describes the Bellman and why he had such influence with his crew:
The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies:
Such a carriage, such ease, and such grace!
Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,
The moment one looked in his face!
He had bought a large map representing the sea,
Without the least vestige of land:
And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
A map they could all understand.
“What’s the good of Mercator’s North Poles and Equators,
Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?”
So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply,
“They are merely conventional signs!”
“Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
But we’ve got our brave Captain to thank”
(So the crew would protest), “that he’s bought us the best—
A perfect and absolute blank!”
And true enough, the Bellman’s idea of the ocean was a big square basin, with the latitude and longitude carefully written out on the margin. They found, however, that their “brave Captain” knew very little about navigation, he—