Sometimes Writer A (one of the greats, long deceased, alas) has written about something utterly alien and surreal and opted to describe it in a figurative, abstract, at-arm's-length sort of way that leaves it wonderfully mysterious and makes the most of the reader's imagination.
Long after, Writer B attempts a pastiche of the original work, and because his story is a somewhat different kind of story, he has no choice but to describe the surreal phenomena in a much more concrete and specific way than Writer A did. You know what happens then?
Writer B is forcibly reminded that Writer A was smart.
Today I am Writer B.