As for the fair question that if it had meaning or simply meaningless nonsense. Well, when I was a kid I used to just enjoy these extraordinary adventures as they are, I didn’t find it weird or stupid (my sister did) and I liked it. Now, the adult that I am enjoyed them as well, perhaps not the old simple pleasure, but much deeper sensations. I felt different things, one of them is nostalgia for a childhood dream, for a summer day that actually belonged to Carrol, but It managed to make me nostalgic; I felt confused reading some of it (for it is nonsense as we all know), the notes helped. This book threw me down the rabbit hole to a place that I long ago had loved and forgotten and to someone else’s memories as well, for I too have children friends of my own, and in the notes I found Carrol somehow as a companion that made a dream worlds specifically made for one child. Children as we were, we loved these adventures and wished to follow the white rabbit to wonderland someday, adults as we are, obsessed with having a meaning behind everything, we read volumes heavily annotated as this.
But in my opinion, you decide what is the real meaning, after all they are dreams, and dreams have different interpretations. And maybe Carrol upon rewriting Alice’s adventures had found some part of his soul in them, and left it for us reader to discover, after all “We are but older children, dear, Who fret to find our bedtime near”. And we adults are very much obsessed with ourselves that we couldn’t possibly write a story without putting something of one’s character in it (the knight, dodo).

Ps. I declare that I am more of a Gryphonism, tbh I didn’t read all the introduction (although I liked the first few pages), but I consider myself to have finished this book.