The trippy book. I read Alice as a child, with a lot of confusion at first, and then with some resignation to the fact that it would all make sense once I was older.
Well, about that.
But despite being confused about Alice, I also was fascinated and interested. I could tell that there was an internal sense-making at work, a structure that I couldn’t see or understand, but that I knew was there regardless. It made my head hurt in good ways.
Also, the some figures in it are so vivid and weird that I never forgot them. Most of all the cat, whose grin is capable of staying behind after the cat has vanished. Thinking about this also made my head hurt in a good way.
Alice stands on her own in many ways. Of course there are many books that follow young girls into nonsensically fantastic worlds, like The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making, or all the Wayward Children books running on portal fantasy. But they do something different. They follow a pattern, and Alice does absolutely not even consider following a pattern.
I think the closest you’d come to the Alice books would be a New Weird book, except that even China Miéville has way too much consistency and coherence to come even close to Alice. If you don’t mind losing the trippy part, and you just want to see more dadaism, I’d probably recommend something like Waiting for Godot.