This is a story written in first person by a person whom I know very well. His dreams, I daresay, sometimes seem to respond in a very labyrinthine manner to his quest for creative thinking. Here it goes:

I WAS READING A BOOK on the creative act, the author's contention being that to create a work of art or science, two types of thinking processes are required.
The first one the author calls Janusian thinking, derived from the Roman aboriginal Janus, the god of the beginnings and by inference, of creation. Janus is usually depicted as having two faces, each one looking in opposite directions. The creative mind is capable of simultaneously envisaging a concept and its antithesis; the conflict is solved through the creation of something new of recognizable value. Like when the matter-energy antithesis was solved by the equation E=mc2.
The second process the author calls "homospatial thinking" —whereby two objects are conceived as simultaneously occupying the same space; again the conflict is solved by an artistic or scientific creation. The reader's attention is directed by the author to the fact that dreams utilize similar techniques, except that conflict is not present —since in dreams antithesis is taken for granted, while homospatiality is solved by condensation. Thus, the two mentioned creative types of thinking are considered mirror images of processes occurring in dreams.

Spurred by such seminal ideas, I thought of investigating if a given device used in literature can be shown to be a mirror image of a device used in dreams.
That day I attended a lecture in English on a type of "hermetic writing" dealing with instances where the reader must be bilingual in order to capture peculiarities resulting from the purposeful influence of a second language upon the writer's work. Just before the lecture I was introduced to a French-speaking colleague of the lecturer. I was unable to define where she was from, so I asked her if from France or from Belgium. She was from neither.
That evening my wife and I watched a Hebrew TV program about a plant that grows by the Dead Sea and whose fruit, which resembles a testicle, can be utilized to make a "ptil" (Hebrew for "candle-wick"). The Spanish term for "wick" escaped me at that moment, so I asked my wife. Not being satisfied with her translation, I resorted to the "brainstorming technique"; five words came to my mind, all of them starting with the syllable "pa" pronounced as in ‘palace.’ Concentrating on that syllable, soon I remembered the right word: "pabilo" (pronounced pabEElo). My wife was not convinced, yet the Spanish dictionary proved me correct; incidentally, I learned that "despabilarse", which I knew meant 'to wake up from a slumber,' derives from the action of removing the burnt-out portion of the wick, with the resulting enlivening of the flame.
Later on I was conversing with a person interested in literature. and I commented about my intention of finding if a literary device, like parody, for instance, can be shown to be a mirror image of a device utilized by dreams. As an example, I said: "Like converting the solemn "To be or not to be" into the inane "To eat or not to eat", as is done, to comic effect, in daily parlance.

That night I dreamed the following: I ask a young woman where she is from. She answers: "Tuberculosis." Since such answer is clearly non-sequitur , I ask her again —and twice more I get the same answer; she then says "Yichilov" (the name of a hospital in Tel-Aviv). PARODY AND DREAMS II Attempting to interpret the dream, I thought that tuberculosis is called in short 'T.B.' --meaning that when the young woman answered enigmatically, and I was not sure of what I was hearing, my reaction had been: "Have I heard 'tuberculosis' or have I not," or, in short: "T.B. or not T.B.?" (Free association showed that 'ptil' (wick) is assonant with 'B.T.' (the inverse of 'T.B.'). Likewise, the doubt about 'pabilo' could be construed as 'pabil-or-not-pabil'. The following night I dreamed being asked about a street called 'Efraim Efrati.' Not having heard of such a name, I asked for more information and it transpired that the street might not be in Haifa, but in Tel-Aviv, or perhaps in Jerusalem. The question, therefore, was: "Tel-Aviv or not Tel-Aviv?" --again a pun on the opening words of the soliloquy.

In order not to leave the impression that my oneiric processes had been intended --so to say-- just to satisfy my desire of finding parody as a dream mechanism, I have to give hints on the emotional determinants behind these two dreams. 'Tuberculosis' and 'Yichilov" (a hospital in T-Aviv) bring to mind thoughts of disease and death OR cure, i.e., to live OR not. The meaning of "aviv" (spring) is quite expressive; it may be easily converted into Spanish 'viva' or French 'vive’. The 'ptil' is related to life and death --since it was made from a plant that grows by the Dead Sea; it is reminiscent of life --burning away. (An approximate sound of 'ptil' in French, in addition to a slight modification of the English sound of 'wick,' permit yet another --associated-- interpretation, with the opposite action implied by the word 'despabilarse' ( to rise from a slumber), an allusion to a manifestation of aging (which is akin to approaching death.) The sound 'efra'--from Ephraim and Ephrati may be phonetically associated to the Hebrew 'efer' meaning ash, and 'afar' meaning soil ('dust'): being born and dying.

The sound 'efra', from 'Efraim' and 'Efrati' (both Hebrew names) may be phonetically associated with the Hebrew 'efer', meaning 'ash'; the sound is reminiscent of 'afar', 'soil dust' in Hebrew, related to being born, created, from dust --and to dying and becoming dust again.
The name 'Yihilov' --contrastingly-- may be construed, by free association, as integrating sounds from two languages: 'Yihi' --meaning in Hebrew "long live," and 'Lov(e)'. In this way, the thoughts of disease and death conveyed by a hospital are neutralized by their antithesis "long live love." Here is an example of the 'new creation technique' used by dreams to solve the problem of an idea and its antithesis.
The deciphering of this type of "hermetic" dream based on bilinguality is an example of how dreams may work as mirror images of the "hermetic writing" alluded to by the lecturer, whose presentation was in English but his mother tongue was French. Yet a written parody cannot be "hermetic" if the author wants it to be understood, even though the reader is able to enjoy the writer's literary creation. Not so with a dream, where only its interpretation is capable of causing an aesthetic impression and intellectual pleasure.

I offer now a more extensive example of a dream in which a neologism is used in a hermetic fashion, and in which parody is of the essence in the dream:
A young physician was working in a town not too far from a source of one of the River Amazonas' affluents. He was carrying on a friendly relation with the wife of another colleague who was usually absent, as he practiced in another town. A lawyer had rented a room of his house to the young doctor. This lawyer, who served as a judge in the faraway city, was also called 'doctor,' as is the custom in South America. The house had a garden where grapes were grown; people used to sneak into the garden to pick-up the fruit. The young physician found such behavior most unbecoming, and wrote on a slip of paper, which he affixed to the wall: "Forbidden to pick-up the grapes in the absence of the doctor."

The young physician dreamed that night as follows: The older colleague is referring to a 'partum' ('obstetric delivery') that the young doctor had attended, and is angrily saying that his ethical behavior had been contemptible. He threatens with filing a complaint to the Medical Association, accusing him of 'bicompartition. 'The dreamer feels anxiety, although he doesn't understand the neologism. He thinks that the intention is to accuse him of unethically splitting fees with the colleague that referred the patient, and the anxiety ceases, since he does not subscribe to that practice. Then, the older colleague signals a wall and exclaims: "And look." Again the anxiety, but --not seeing anything on the wall, anxiety gives place to just puzzlement.

It is clear that the dream by itself has no special appeal. It is only after its interpretation that it becomes a satirical parody: 'Compartition' derives from the Latin-Spanish 'compartir,' to share, to part between two or more (notice that 'share' comes from 'shear'). 'Partum' ('delivery') shares the same root, like does ‘partake.’ 'Bi-compartition' would mean specificaly 'to share between two.' The colleague was actually stating: "You are unethical since you want to share my wife with me."

The wall in the dream refers to the one with the note about picking-up the grapes, a clear reference to taking advantage of the older colleague's absence. So far, so good, but where is the parodic element? Well, the young physician had been riled by people's unauthorized picking-up the grapes --actually a minor misdemeanor. Moreover, in the dream he thought of being falsely accused of splitting fees --a minor unethicallity. Yet the main and true transgression --coveting another man's wife-- was not apparent: he did not see the writing in the wall.

It is not farfetched to consider that the garden and the grapes of contention are references to the forbidden fruit of Eden and that the 'doctor'-judge can be equated to the Owner (God), who had 'leased' a small portion of his property, while he himself was absent. Besides, the probably Oedipal connotations of the dream make one wonder whether there is an intimate connection between these two constellations --where the mother is the forbidden fruit and God is the forbidding father. (See my Comment on the 'Cain's hypothesis.)
The central theme of the dream being 'Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife' is transformed into 'Thou shall not eat the grapes of the owner' and 'Thou shall not share fees.' These two prohibitions make fun of the central, awesome moral theme, and are accompanied by the simultaneous denial of conflict: "I am entitled to eat the grapes since I live here" and " I do not share fees." Giving free association rein, let us recall that in the myth of Eden, Adam first denies the transgression --denial being an important primary psychological defense mechanism against anxiety. But then, when confronted with the facts, he meekly defends himself by blaming Eve, who then triumphantly projects the blame onto the snake, rationalizing: "It is she who tempted me."

Let us stop here. Eventually I will explain why indeed it was 'the snake' (metaphorically speaking) who tempted her, although it has nothing to do with this fantastic but true story, as recounted by my friend. Any additions, there in cyberspace?

Turning back to Oedipus, he gets his mother by conveniently being aware neither of the slain man's identity, nor of the Queen he marries. Conventionally, the Oedipal conflict is solved by identifying with the father, and becoming interested in other women. In Sophocles' play, Oedipus kills the King, yet he becomes the King, so that the King is actually 'alive.' ("The King is dead; long live the King!") And the woman he marries is not his mother, since she is actually his legitimate wife. (How can his sons be also his brothers?) The eventual solution to this tragic situation was to conveniently get rid of the mother-wife by having her kill herself, and by the unwitting criminal son-husband blinding himself, as if he wouldn't be able to see the enormity of his deed against cultural tradition and mores.
In the dream, the young doctor looked at the wall, and saw nothing --as if he were blind. He had rationalized, now he was repressing. Anxiety was avoided --although not through parody this time, but through psychological defense mechanisms. Leaving aside loose free association, let us return to the subject of parody and dreams.

Parody, a word that derives from 'para' and 'ode,' meaning very loosely 'a purposeful imitation of a known work of art or style,' usually has a comic intention. It reduces the emotional impact or significance of the original composition or style, with the consequent generation of relief. Awe gives way to mirth, worry turns into exhilaration, and fear changes into comicality and laughter.

Thus, if we were to accept that dreams can use a parody-like device, it would appear to serve an anxiety-allaying function --as it does in literature.
"To be or not to be" --with its awesome signification-- if facetiously converted into "T.B. or not T.B." and "Tel Aviv" or not Tel Aviv," is expected to cease arousing anxiety. In dreams, the comicality may be only apparent --for behind the parody, other serious meanings may be lurking. Consciously written parody cannot be 'hermetic' as in the dream, yet in order to qualify as a work of art --a creation-- it must integrate dream-like subtlety with imponderable ambiguity.....