Joseph's Dream - Comments

Hmm... Ok. This definitely confused the living shit out of me. But I assume that's because I'm too young with not enough experience and I'm not familiar with any of the references. Except monomyth. I know what that is and it totally makes sense. It fits perfectly with the concept. -shrug- I suppose I'll just tell you what I liked and whatnot.

Let's start off with what I did get. Sometimes you said "I" instead of "Joe". I don't know if you meant to do that or not. Just letting you know. You probably did but I'm double checking.

:shifty

Okay. I'm a HUGE fan of choppy sentences. I don't know. But they stick out and really seem to emphasize what you're trying to get across better than any other style, like let's say, italics or caps. When you decribed Joe's "regimen" and said, "Toiletpiss. Mirror. Sinkwater. Brush. Floss. Rinse spit, rinse spit. Shower. Soap. Towel. Mirror again. Comb. Mirror. Combgrease shampoo-goo. Flick it into the sink. Mirror again. Smile for the camera. Exit. Wait. Look back. Mirror." it really hit it like you really wanted that to be apparent. Least, that's what I thought. You work the choppy style very well. And what I love is that you balance it out nicely with longer, more complex sentences in other areas.

Monomyth. :lmfao That's such a wonderful journey that the hero has to either accept or decline or succeed or fail. It's like... Oh God. Awesome. Your humor as a person totally tied into this. I really felt that. Especially with the whole, "CARROTS OR TURNIPS" and "What's cooking?" thing. I can totally imagine you saying something as lame as that... Jk.

I like how Joe's thoughts were so sporatic. It's like my brain. And on the contrary to what Princess thought, I really liked how the paragraphs didn't exactly "fit". By "fit", I mean under "normal" circumstances. But yours fit the way I like them. Random and witty. I like it. I don't know if you meant for this to have humor but I did for me.

I particularly liked this line, "The car hacked and wheezed to a start, sputtering from its pneumonic engine. Poetic—he had always thought there was something poetic about a car having trouble starting. He liked the sickly sound of it: the fuel-clogged phlegmic mutterings that gurgled out of the piston chambers." I can relate to that line because I also share that idea. I love the smell of hot cars that are like 150 degrees inside and the cars that tut tut down the road are always so cute to me. I probably think this because I want a hybrid car that looks like shit when I grow up. :] Rather than a monster than guzzles gas. And then when you said everyone wants a purring car and then described it as a cat. I don't know if that qualifies for personification because cats aren't human but their still living creatures...? Comparing something non-living to something that is living is personification, right? I'm not sure if that only applies for humans.

EDIT: I just looked it up. It only works if you're giving it human qualities. Whoops. But whatever. I like how you compared the car to a cat.

And oh my God. That poem was so nice. I really liked it actually. Did you make that up for the story?

i poked him
with a stick
twice

That was really pleasant yet saddening in an underlying way.

The Wizard Of Oz references that tied together the story was interesting. First, Joe reminds his wife of the scarecrow from the movie and then he goes to the supermarket and the people who work there remind him of the same character. It seemed to attach the beginning to the end. Like a drawstring.

Ooh! Archtypes! We learned about those in AP Lit! So I did have some background knowledge. I liked this line, "Joe hated living with an archtype. You had to hate living with an archtype, that was part of the deal, but you still have to live with them; heros have to suffer." In a way it kind of reinforced that monomyth concept.

The line "This is the way the world ends. This way the world ends. This way to the end of the world. This end is the way of the world. This is the world’s end. This end is the world’s end. This is the way the world ends, Gogo. This is the way the world ends. This is the way. This is. This is not." was amazing, for lack of a better word. I really enjoyed the repetitiveness of it. Definitely ended with a nice little bang.

Now at the end there's this random comma. I don't think that's supposed to be there. Just bringing it to your attention because it's annoying me.

PHEW! That's most definitely the longest review I've even given. You better fuckinglike LOVE it. Kay?

While yes, I did really like this piece, one thing irked me - and that was the transition from paragraph to paragraph. I mean, I know that's how people think [...Well, I do...], but I always think in a story it's better to let the paragraphs flow into each other more, as opposed to just switching from subject to subject, sometimes in the middle of sentences.

Buuuut, maybe that's just me and my style.

Jolly McJollyson:

What I mean, Josipa, is that I started the story with a character waking up expressly because one shouldn't do that if he/she wants to be original.

I get it, Jolly, I told you that I had nothing against it (: It just mademe smile (: I loved it, by the way, I really did :D

What I mean, Josipa, is that I started the story with a character waking up expressly because one shouldn't do that if he/she wants to be original.

Josipa:

Wow, I'm the first one to comment (:

So, let's start. He woke up. You've been criticizing me about that waking up part, I don't have anything against it, on the contrary. But as you left a critique on me using that Hollywood-ish part, I thought you wouldn't start with that motion (:

I hope you don't mind me saying that. To me, waking up is equal to a new beginning, a nice way to start a story.

I liked it. I liked your descriptions. As I'm not way too fond of dialogues and use them as less as possible, I like how you actually put their words in some kind of an indirect speech colored with epithets. I do the same. And it flows very well.

Yeah, I started with "He woke up" to make him adherent to cliche. That's why he resets his alarm so he'll wake up to it.

I like it. A lot. I shall start quoting:



He made his way to the bathroom for his morning routine. You have to have a morning routine. Everybody has a morning routine. Joe wanted a regimen. You have to want a regimen. Glance at the mirror. Toilet piss. Flush it. Mirror glance. Sink water. Wash. Brush. Floss. Rinse spit, rinse spit. Shower trickle. Soap. Shampoo. Towel. Mirror again. Hair comb. Mirror. Combgrease shampoo-goo. Flick it into the sink. Mirror again. Smile for the camera. Exit. Wait. Look back. Mirror.

-
Joe recognized the call to adventure immediately; he’d forgotten he was married to a monomythic control freak. Refuse or accept, refuse or accept? Fuck, I hate this kind of decision. Does overcoming indecisiveness count as a trial? Probably, which means that no matter which answer I choose, I’ve already overcome a trial. In that case, I’ve already accepted and moved on to the next element. Accept it is, then.

-

his was the jazz land, this was carrot land. Here the grocery aisles were raised. Lips that would kiss. His lips had not kissed. Prayers to whatever it was—stony stability—perfect wholeness. Had not kissed. Kissing him on the forehead. Meaningless. Joe hated living with an archetype. You had to hate living with an archetype, but you still had to live with them; heroes have to suffer.

-

Joe walked through an aisle of Campbell’s soup. He’d always liked Campbell’s. For some reason he enjoyed imagining that he and Campbell were inseparable—made for each other, sharing their love of neatly canned soups. So many different kinds of soup. Chili, too. They all came in the same can, though. Joe liked that. He wanted them to come in the same can. If the cans were different, the soup wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t taste the way it was supposed to taste. Soup was supposed to taste a certain way. The metal cylinders lining the aisles made sure it kept over time—silent, steadfast watchmen, eager to maintain freshness, no matter how old the soup. Joe wanted a can of soup terribly.

-

Stuck between carrot casserole and plain delicious turnips. His shadow fell between them—between the idea and the reality, the potency and the existence. He looked at them, his lower eyelid twitching sporadically. Joe whimpered and sat down on the tiles.

Those were my favorite parts, especially the soup thing.

I liked the style you used here. It's different from your other works. I can't find a word to describe it (I'm sure you can), but how it's so... blunt, point-blank, the abrupt pauses between sentences... somehow, it made the message come across with an impact.

I'm guessing this was your own reply to your own challenge, eh? I like how you turned the simple carrot-buying routine into a deep, thought-provoking prose.

I'd really love to read more of your work, so do post other ones up when you have the time.

Another masterpiece from the one and only Jolly McJollyson. :D

Wow, I'm the first one to comment (:

So, let's start. He woke up. You've been criticizing me about that waking up part, I don't have anything against it, on the contrary. But as you left a critique on me using that Hollywood-ish part, I thought you wouldn't start with that motion (:

I hope you don't mind me saying that. To me, waking up is equal to a new beginning, a nice way to start a story.

I liked it. I liked your descriptions. As I'm not way too fond of dialogues and use them as less as possible, I like how you actually put their words in some kind of an indirect speech colored with epithets. I do the same. And it flows very well.