Reviews for Tales - FictionPress.com

Reviews For: Tales

Lorelei 2003-10-19 ch 3, anon.	abuseI'm finally reviewing again! Let's see: the Pied Piper. I've always loved this tale. What amazes me about your interpretation is that while the tale is easily recognized, it envokes a different response from me. In your version, it feels right that children are following the Piper, while in the original, I always am hesitant to say. I wasn't fond of the idea of the boy who was left behind really being a "martyr", though. For one thing, I didn't see how it fit in with the story, and for another, I've always liked the idea of a boy being left behind and sad, yet unsure if they should be sad. I found the style of this an interesting choice. To me, the short sentences made it a little jerky. Yet at the same time, it makes the story seem very youthful, like a children's book. Also, were the longer lines in the beginning meant to contrast against the shorter lines at the end? All in all, I liked it, but it wasn't the strongest poem that I've read of yours. Still, it was very very good (as always!)
Lorelei (prettytothinkso) 2003-08-12 ch 2, anon.	abuseOf the stories, I am most unfamiliar with "The Seven Swans", so I appreciate it the most subjectively, since I have nothing to compare it to. I love the style of this; the almost prose-like descriptions give soften the whole piece. It's not one of those really "styled" pieces (which I admit I sometimes am guilty of), and it therefore has a more wholesome and geniune feel to it. In other words: gah, I loved it! :) I'm still trying to understand how you can make a piece sound so melancholy without making it maudlin. I'll try to get to the other pieces soon...
pleasecometrue 2003-07-02 ch 7,	abuseI love them, words just don't express it.
Kievsky 2003-06-11 ch 7,	abuseDavid: I don't know the original fairy tale behind this one, so I can't tell which information is original and which is yours. The nettle imagery is wonderful, though, how he suffers first in silence (but does he have anything to speak about when the swams and the surroundings say everything that's necessary?), but by the end can afford to be an observer. Such a poignant final line! Jason: This one appears more esoteric, more complex than the others even though (or maybe it's because) the fairy tale is so familiar. The misery in the town drags in the sad Stranger at the beginning, and it's only when the gold is revealed to be false that he is able to lead the children from the vermin pits to freedom and enlightenment: is he raelizing the selfishness and uselessness of seeking only gold, or just rebelling against the culture that seeks it (even though they never truly had gold at all?) But he is a savior, regardless of his motives. Matt: Not much to say about this one except that it's epic, and I love how the princess and the prince kind of circle around each other for a while before being drawn together. And of course it ends in true fairy tale fashion. Michael: I love this one. The flower, the imagery, and the emotion, it's all perfect. And just as a side note, the comparison of the special flower and the line "there are red flowers absolutely everywhere." makes me wonder whether the flower is a part of himself (bleeding heart) or a person, lover maybe, even though there's not much to support that. Regardless, this is my favorite. Billy: He is chained to the palace and to serving the owners of those iron doorways, although it's unclear why. Poor Billy doesn't even get a fairy tale ending? Brian: OOh, I love the Billy/Brian allusions thrown in here, and the "darker half" line. Can this be treated as the true end of the story, after "billy in hell?" I wish I could do as detailed an analysis as EG, but these poems are so layered it's difficult to comment on more than one element, usually just the top of the intended meaning.
paradoxical goddess 2003-05-28 ch 7, anon.	abusesobs ... (and i LOVE the billy/matt/jason/etc references.
E. Gao 2003-05-24 ch 7,	abuse1. I believe David would lean about the nettles; they are suitable to lazy afternoons when he cannot possibly bleed any more, not for his brothers, not for his lovers, not for Zeus or Leda; he has bled too much, from his fingertips his skin his eyes in place of tears, and the man who will save him knows this and he comes quietly in the night. 2. Jason was not a curse - he was a miracle, a miracle that the children were innocent enough to understand, to accept, a miracle that swept through the town like a plague only nicer and not deadly at all. and even though no-one pays in gold he still plays his sad flute - out of love for the instrument history children movement towards the streams lakes forests (perhaps a love of silver coinage?), and in an instant the children love him and understand why, they are no longer relegated to verminhood, instead they can sing with the morning birds. 3. the sleeping princess dreams of great princes who maybe aren't princes after all, simply a wandering everyday man coming from the direction of the rising sun, hurting because minstels lied to his father; he is no prince but he is still capable of capturing gazes through water buckets and conquering hearts of maidens through tower walls, through sleep. slowly he forges the bell that will waken the sleeping princess, who is dead to the world but still responds to him. 4. the unwhispered word is still powerful enough to ruffle the eternity of petals that haunt his dreams; they represent self-loathing and a hideous physical exterior that comes out only when provoked by small children and perhaps even the fairest maiden could not elicit a smile. it hurts to touch them, it hurts because he does not understand that he too is a flower that needs to be touched sometime (yes perhaps by that son-of-princes); he should not run away the next time. he should wait patiently for his turn to be touched. 5. billy is insignificant perhaps among the August ashes with his blue glass eyes reflected off the ballroom tile, and his stained hands can never reach out and touch the coral fabric of the faceless girl, but the texts are more important anyway, and the measuring of grass, and the abandonment of significant dinners (because he is insignificant you see) and the stone poses and who is he kidding anyway? there is always someone who will hear him singing. 6. brandishing faithful axes on the weekends and working with uncomfortable ties threatening to cut off circulation during the week, brian plays at heroics, but one time, one time only, he slipped and the forest ate him up; the forest in the form of a large grey mass, with fur or silky stone bearings, (it didn't matter - after awhile everything looked the same) and brian was seduced by dark looks and flowering truths, sky-like eyes. now he knows no ambiguity, he only knows he has loved, has finally been loved, and never can he describe himself as a simple huntsman or even an inocuous office worker, now he is billy. ~EG (hope my review did the poem justice)

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