a partial list of things for which I am grateful (Devon Guinn) is an extremely short Twine piece. Any review of it will inevitably take up more words than are in the actual piece.
Its main use of hypertext is to make it non-linear; you click on individual letters of the text, which correspond to the first letters of new nodes. Finishing it will take you five minutes if you linger.
It’s scarcely a poem. It’s a list. It’s a very commonplace kind of list, the kind of thing a million people have written in journals. It’s not a particularly personal or evocative list, either – it tells you very little about someone that they like mac and cheese, love, and family members. It doesn’t paint a picture, let alone develop into a narrative. Nothing about it stuck in my memory when it was done. Possibly it’s going for a tone of sweet and charming, but it doesn’t really have enough personality for that. It’s not very interesting in an IF context, but I also can’t really think of a context in which it would be interesting. There’s not enough substance for me to hate it, either; I just can’t really imagine why anyone would publish it. On the merits, I guess it’s a 2 or a 3.
Anyway. To apologise for the extreme blandness of this post, and as a reminder that the list as literary form is very good and very old, here’s something a thousand years old.
Things which make the heart beat faster
Sparrows feeding their young. To pass a place where babies are playing. To sleep in a room where some fine incense has been burnt. To notice that your elegant Chinese mirror has become a little cloudy.
To see a gentleman stop his carriage before your gate and instruct his attendants to announce his arrival.
To wash your hair, make your toilet, and put on scented robes; even if not a soul sees, these preparations still produce an inner pleasure.
It is night and you are expecting a visitor. Suddenly you are startled by the sound of raindrops, which the wind blows against the shutters.
Sei Shonagon, The Pillow Book