|Reviews for Wider, Wider|
| Faithless Juliet chapter 1 . 11/28/2006
“The shoes all sit in boxes like caged animals at a dog pound, hoping to be picked.” - I’ve never thought of it that way; I really like that analogy though.
“After a couple laps around the store, the girl pulls her finger out of her mouth and points upward at a pair of pink Converse.” - I love how you pair the innocence of this girl through the beginning of your story with the little hussy that follows it. Having her suck her thumb is so infantile, yet her characterization is so calculating, almost Ted Bundy-ish in little girl form. You’ve written it so that every action is precise, premeditated, acted out and staged. I’d call her a smart cookie (future woman president with that kind of curb appeal) if she didn’t kind of scare me (just a little). On a side note, I had a pair of pink Converse when I was a kid (one of my favorite childhood shoes!) I love that you gave her pink Converse.
“Now that the shoe is on the little girl’s foot, the employee feels for her toe to make sure the shoe is big enough. “It feel okay?” - I know that it’s a part of our way of speaking, but on paper: “It feel okay?” just doesn’t read right. Perhaps: “Does it feel OK?” or something to that effect.
“After the man leads the little girl to a bench in the middle of one of the aisles, he lifts her up onto his lap and says, “You’re gonna look really cute in those pink Converse.” The little girl smirks, kisses his stubbled cheek, and then begins giggling. The man blushes and looks around the store. “Not in public,” he whispers.” - I love how she is the instigator in this relationship. She (even though she is a child) makes the first move - she’s the one who kisses his cheek, and he (the adult) is made uncomfortable. It’s very unexpected, and though one could take this story to be very graphic and disturbing in nature, I however, see the female ‘girl-power’ angle and really enjoyed it. Me, being me, of course.
“The employee’s pimples grow even redder as he blushes and looks down at the floor.” - You know, I feel for all the pimpled boys out there, really I do. But for me, nothing is more unattractive then bad skin. I’m a touchy-feely kind of girl and when I kiss a guy, I get all over them, and I just don’t have the same type of freedom if I have to worry about what I can and can’t touch. The whole, having to go home afterward and scrub my face is too much of a waste of my time. And, I know that it’s taboo, but I think it’s fine for guys to use face wash - in fact, I prefer it. One year when I was in high school, I bought all of my guy friends bottles of Noxzema, because it was getting so bad.
“As the man tries to repress his laughter, the little girl continues, “I got mosquito bit real bad one time and all these little red bumps popped up on my skin and they were always itching real bad and stuff but mommy told me not to scratch them ‘cause that’d just make them even worser. And then my mommy ended up putting this cream stuff on them and they got all better and stopped itching and after a couple days they went away. And then there was this other time—” - I really like how you’ve turned her into a rambling idiot. Not commas, no sentence brakes, just like real little kids talk. She seems to be very precocious as well, a strong counter piece to her Lolita-like colorings.
“The employee glares at the back of the little girl’s head as she takes the man’s hand and reenters the crowded mall atmosphere. “Fucking little cunt,” he mutters, flipping the girl off with his middle finger. Suddenly there’s a loud “AHEM!” The employee then wheels around to see his manager— face stern, arms crossed— standing directly behind him.” - Harsh! But she was a tad bit bitchy to him. I wonder if that whole mosquito bite speech was calculated like everything else, she knew that it would hurt him, therefore she says it, not caring. Just wanting to get the rise/hurt out of him. Clever. Clever. I don’t know if you were really meaning to do that, but if you were: applause, applause.
“The little girl wipes the wrong side of her mouth, and the man says, “Here, I’ll get it.” He leans over the seat and sticks out his tongue. As he licks the blot of ice cream off the little girl’s face, she turns her head to meet his mouth. They sit there kissing for several seconds— big lips and little lips, old tongue and young. Drool drips down from their chins.” - You’re whole story is riddled with little images like this, I see her as a child (a child‘s body, completion, so on.) yet her personality makes me think of someone much older. She sucks her thumb which shows someone very young, like under five (and you never give away her actual age) yet her personality makes me wonder who this girl is? Why did she get this way? Has she basically been raised by this man, to be some kind of pseudo-sex slave from infancy? I think as a storyteller you could, and should build on this girl (nameless... could really use a name right now) she reads like a Stacy, or a Kelly, something sweet but with strong pornographic undertones. Kimie, maybe, or a Ruby. Either way I would love to read more about this pair. Disturbing yes, but also very fascinating.
This story is right up there with Get-R-Done for me. Truly one of your bests baby.
“Suddenly the car behind them blows the horn and the man sits up immediately. He wipes the saliva from his mouth and presses the accelerator without checking for traffic. The girl is giggling; the man is blushing.” - Again, she has more control over the relationship, I just love that. She’s a child; which I know I keep saying is weird, but she also comes off as a strong female. She’s taking pleasure in the act; he’s a little ashamed, and a little frightened. I just love that. More female characters need to be uninhibited like this.
“The little girl claps her hands and squeals in delight. She licks her little lips and says, “M, yummy!” just before leaning over the seat and opening her mouth, wider, wider.” - Now this image, I don’t really know what to do with. A.) The whole female empowerment thing, I’m so digging, but B.) I’m seeing little mouth/big cock, which does actually add further layers to their relationship.
“The little girl tugs on her mother’s pant leg. “Mommy, guess what? Somebody thought he was my daddy again!” - You always see in news stories about woman who trusted their kids with men like this, nice men, men that on the surface are very easy to trust, and then you always hear the stories about molestation and the degree of illness in most people. I think that pedophilia is a complex issue. I certainly don’t feel that molesting kids is right, not on any level, however I understand its roots in our society. For thousands of years, girls were married by the age of ten in most cultures, mothers by thirteen, and grandmothers by twenty-five. The idea of the child-bride has always been with us; girls in their teens are at one of the two peak fertilization times in their lives. Which I think on some level attracts males, pathologically. We are descended from cave men after all. What’s that saying: “We always become our parents in the end.”
In ancient Greece, boys as young as eight were concubines to other men of higher rank, and it was considered in bad taste if you didn’t have a little boy waiting in your bedroom after dark to grant sexual favors. I think when you call something sinful and evil, it makes it all the more harder to avoid it, it’s in our nature to follow our carnal desires, and to punish and chastise oneself because of it, only makes the desire grow all the more stronger.
I think however, that your story really isn’t about pedophilia, because this girl is clearly not being molested. If anything she wants the world to know about her relationship with this man, where as the man is the one who has to deny himself in public. She holds all the cards, and in a way she’s abusing him by embodying the taboo that would label him a criminal. It’s a little bit of soft-core porn, that if it were real would get someone arrested, but I don’t think that you set out to tell the tale of a victim, but rather the story of two outlandish, and possibly unreal (though I‘m sure people are born as calculating as this girl) people.
I wasn’t offended - a bit disturbed, but more fascinated then anything else. I meant it when I said that you should explore these characters further. I see many more angles that you could take these two. A kind of Bonnie and Clyde meets Interview with the Vampire. Needless to say, I really enjoyed this. You often times commend me for not caring if I step on peoples toes and I think that the same can be said of you. You’re a talented writer, you’re bold, and you speak up about the idea’s floating around in your head. I guess, that we’re a lot alike in that respect. We might just be twin souls you and I, you with your stories, and me with my poems.
Speaking of poems, thanks for the reviews of late. I know that I’m not posting as much as a usually do, but life been hectic lately. I got a promotion at work so I’m clocking more hours, and I moved from part-time to full-time student status.
I think that you, more then anyone else who reviews my work actually gets what I’m trying to say and catches all of the little undertones and subplots. I’m very methodical with my poetry; I like for it to have several layers, rather than just one.
Your review for ‘Blue Jessica’ was especially sweet - sorry if I ruined the color blue for you - it just seemed like an appropriate color at the time. And you’re correct, she died when we were both seventeen, and me, now being twenty-one (though twenty when I wrote it) would make three years. She died suddenly, complications from Influenza, actually, I think that was part of the reason that made her death so hard for me, she died from a common disease that has a cure, and a vaccination. We grew up together; people always mistook us for sisters because we looked so alike. She creeps into my poetry every now and then, but for the most part it’s hard for me to write about her, as well as show other people what I write about her. I can write about anything, except that it seems.
‘Poem for the Holy Pedophile’ was another one that I appreciated. It kind of has the same psychological/sociological undertones as your story. And you’re right I was very angry when I wrote it. I actually have a family member who was a priest and has been accused of molestation. We have the same last name and it’s kind of an uncommon name and when I read about it in the paper I freaked out, total milt-down. Bad Juliet moment. It’s weird to think that I have that in me, some part of me is connected to him, and to that, and though I’ll never be able to prove it, I’m sure that he did something to my father when he was a kid.
I actually wrote a poem a while back about a girl being molested, I think I’m going to post it now. Just for you baby. So keep up the good work.
| B.Sauce Ninja chapter 1 . 11/28/2006
Okay, I'm just sitting here, in between college apps and all these essays, and I thought Imight do some recreational reading, and-
omfg this was so bad. XD;; I have to admit-this is probably one of the most terrible scenarios you've written up, even worse than what the narrator of Writer's Block did to THAT little girl. This was even more terrible than BCDC! Holy shit. XD;; Even from the beginning, you just-ugh. I'll save it for a real review.
O man. GROSS.