You look terribly concerned. That furrow in your brow? It’s like a tiny, anxious river. Let me smooth it. (He mimes smoothing the air.) There. No.

In the pantheon of literary characters, few are as simultaneously beloved, baffling, and philosophically dense as Lewis Carroll’s Cheshire Cat . While he appears for only a few pages in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland , his presence lingers like his famous grin—floating in the cultural consciousness long after the body has disappeared. For actors, writers, and performance artists, the quest for the perfect Cheshire Cat monologue is a rite of passage. But what makes a monologue "Cheshire"? Is it the riddles? The gleeful nihilism? Or the specific cadence of a creature who knows he is mad, living in a world that has no rulebook?

It isn't a speech. It is a vanishing act performed with words.

This site uses cookies. By continuing your visit, you accept their use as set out in our Cookie Policy. OK