Hi all,
As we prepare to delve into the works of Franz Kafka, questions arise that I might need to address: Why Kafka? What compels us to dedicate ourselves to this author, who died almost 100 years ago, on June 3, 1924? Especially when such an endeavour may thrust us into realms where we confront shifting personas, undergo instant transformations into woodlice, observe dancing baboons, singing mice, or paranoid moles. Or grapple with jagged writing implements lodged within our flesh. Or worse. Much worse...
Kafka’s name often carries a dissuasive reputation that might deter some from willingly entering his bizarre, metaphysical realms. Epithets like obtuse, pessimistic, depressing, alien, harrowing, confusing (and, of course, kafkaesque) frequently trail in his wake. But fear not, dear community. We’re here to debunk those notions and discover how Kafka is eminently readable (sometimes, admittedly not always), thought-provoking, and, dare I say, fun! As we’ll see, Kafka uniquely fractures reality. And his characters—often the meek, the persecuted, the outcasts—embody our inner selves yearning to break free from the shackles of reality.
Kafka also stands as one of the giants of literary modernism. His influence reverberates through contemporary authors, thinkers, and artists: from the surrealist movement to Eugène Ionesco, from Albert Camus to Gilles Deleuze, from Vladimir Nabokov to Milan Kundera, from Jorge Luis Borges to Gabriel García Márquez, from J.G. Ballard to Philip K. Dick, from Philip Roth to Haruki Murakami, from David Cronenberg to David Lynch. Would these authors have become who they are without Kafka's vision? Probably not. So, it’s also worth taking a closer look and retracing these threads of influence across 20th-century art and literature.
Moreover, this centennial anniversary of his passing warrants celebration (or mourning, as the case may be). It also presents an opportune moment, as significant new works have recently been published, shedding fresh light on Kafka's life and writings. Reiner Stach’s monumental biography, completed a few years ago, will likely offer unprecedented insights. Meanwhile, Ross Benjamin's new translation of Kafka’s Diaries promises to illuminate his personality and creative process further.
This is one of the things I find most fascinating in our upcoming exploration: the glimpse behind the curtain, the opportunity to witness the artist in his workshop (the cook in his kitchen, if you prefer), to bear witness to Kafka's doubts and struggles with his writing—a feeling every writer intimately knows in the isolation of his study.
I also recognise that reading Kafka, more so than with most other authors, is an ambiguous act. After all, he published very little during his lifetime and entreated his friend Max Brod to burn all his unpublished manuscripts—one of the most paradoxical and bewildering requests imaginable. Brod, of course, defied those wishes, dedicating his life to raising awareness of his friend’s genius and polishing and publishing every salvageable scrap of writing, rescued from the Nazis and obscurity... Yet, in doing so, Brod committed an act of treason against the author’s will. And we, too, as we read these “forbidden” works, will become traitors of sorts. This newsletter, by its very existence, shouldn't be allowed.
Isn’t that exciting?
If you feel like it, please share your own curiosities, connections, or apprehensions about this author in the comments. What impressions does his name evoke—fear or wonder? What compels you to join this expedition? What preconceived notions (we all harbour them) do you bring? What experiences will you draw from?
Next time, I'll provide a preliminary bibliography of Kafka's major works I plan to cover. Stay tuned.
Until then...
For me he mostly evokes wonder and fascination, having only read The Trial and The Metamorphosis (both of which I enjoy very much). I think often about how he did not want to publish much of this work, was it the inner critical voice that lives in all of us that spoke when he said that? Or was it something else completely?