ALICE'S ADVENTURES in Wonderland By Lewis Carroll. p
Illustrated by Helen Oxenbury.
207 pp. Cambridge, Mass.:
Candlewick Press. $24.99. (All ages)

ALICE IN WONDERLAND
By Lewis Carroll. p
Illustrated by Lisbeth Zwerger.
103 pp. New York:
A Michael Neugebauer Book/
North-South Books. $19.95.
(All ages)

Helen Oxenbury's Alice is a pretty little thing in sneakersand a blue jumper right off the rack at the Gap. She's spunky and cheerfuland cute. Also fearless and wholesome. And Lewis Carroll's Alice wouldn'tcross the street for a play date with her. The real Alice would, though,find a soul mate in Lisbeth Zwerger's dream-child, a fine companion tousher her into the wonderland of the new century.

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" is a sacred text. Butsacred texts invite -- require, even -- reinterpretation. John Tenniel'sglorious 1865 wood engravings will remain for many of us the indeliblevision of Alice, but they were old-fashioned even when I first encounteredthem half a century ago. And their black-and-white palette may disheartenchildren who have been saturated in color, beginning with the sheets oftheir cribs. So, if only for the joy of full-color spreads, there's reasonto update Alice. Reviving a Victorian story for a postmodern audience presentsdelectable challenges -- and rich opportunities for failure. Oxenbury hasstanding: a well-deserved reputation based on everything from her charmingbaby board-books to her award-winning "We're Going on a Bear Hunt." Butthe illustrations at hand, though they follow his plot, have little todo with Carroll's tone. Unchangingly upbeat, they miss the subtext of astory that is, for all its whimsy, about the terrifying instability ofidentity. Alice's true adventure is finding out who and where she is, andhow she fits into a bewildering world. Within the first moments of heradventure, her anxieties announce themselves. Falling down the rabbit hole,she logically should fear injury. Instead, her preoccupation is gloriouslyneurotic. Guilt-ridden and self-conscious, she worries that she'll dropthe marmalade jar, "killing somebody underneath," or make a fool of herselfwhen she comes out the other end. So she starts calculating longitude andlatitude, distance and mileage. Talk about sublimation! Here is a littlegirl trying too hard to be good.

Carroll deftly captures a couple of childhood's defininganxieties: Will I harm someone? What will people think of me? Though Oxenburygives us a literal transcription of the fall -- complete with marmaladeand other objects mentioned in the text -- it's Zwerger who takes it underher skin. Her diagram of the downward passage hints at the disgusting andsurreal -- a rat's hindquarters, a roach, an odd (and contemporary-looking)bottle cap and an animal skull. She perfectly conveys Alice's suppressedterrors. Any curious child will spend some time inspecting these repellentimages. Zwerger, a prolific and prize-winning Viennese artist, also imaginesin all their variety the menagerie of odd ducks and dodos encountered byAlice. The animals are in the tradition of Tenniel -- correctly drawn,but exaggerated for effect. So they retain the dignity of real beasts,with beast-appropriate personalities, some not nice at all. Zwerger's Cheshirecat, for instance, sports a convincingly weird feline smile. Compare Oxenbury'sversion: a smirking kitty-cat right off the comics page. In fact, there'sa cartoon quality to all of Oxenbury's creatures, a shallowness that missestheir underlying menace and hostility. Lewis Carroll's mouse is an impossiblyprickly, self-protective rodent, not the furry friend Oxenbury presents.

Zwerger never sugarcoats Alice's experiences. Her heroineis thoroughly contemporary in dress and demeanor, with the kind of unblinking,somewhat veiled expression one sees on the faces of certain postmodernlittle girls. One of Zwerger's most effective tools is her skewed, fracturedpoint of view.

Many images appear oddly cropped or seen from an offbeatangle or perspective -- all brilliantly appropriate to Alice's newly fractureduniverse, her unpredictable spurts of growth and shrinkage. Both illustratorstake full advantage of color. Zwerger's clean, warm palette is pleasing.Oxenbury's bright pastels are lovely. And her bolder moments are triumphs.The double-page spread of the Queen's parade is a smashing celebrationin red and white. But alas, the caricature of the Queen is too silly totake seriously. If a reader doesn't fear for Alice's life, she can't experienceAlice's true triumph -- her liberating realization that her tormentorsare "nothing but a pack of cards." I have a theory, prompted by LisbethZwerger's images, that the King and Queen of Hearts are not Alice's parents,as some Freudians might have it, but her grandparents -- the kind thatcorrect your manners, behavior and grammar. (Or at least the scoldy sideof certain otherwise harmless grandparents.) Oxenbury's Queen and Duchessalso smack of someone's grandmother on a bad trip.

Carroll, Tenniel or other illustrators of the story mightnot agree. But curiously, Zwerger and Oxenbury are the first two womenillustrators I know of who have tackled Alice. Does it takes a female sensibilityto register the subtle tyranny some grandparents exert in some families,sometimes? Of course we all encounter Alice differently, depending on whatpoint of our own growth or shrinkage we are in. A classic evolves withthe experience of its reader. Carroll's controlling vision, though, remains-- of a perceptive and playful girl encountering wonders and terrors withadmirable equanimity. Whether you take your Alice with sugar or somewhatstronger, the text is the ticket to Wonderland. Let the illustrators playon.