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Only one quibble. I would not want a person to look at it first, before reading Kafka. It is much more suitable as a summing up, a personal vision and inspired collaboration of two mad devotees of Kafka. Read Kafka first, a lot of Kafka, then buy this book to sharpen your vision. It's a work of art, comparable to the Expressionism of Kafka's time.
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because he has been seduced by a maid.
Hardly a reward. In America he finds work
at the Hotel Occidental. At the hotel he
is in charge of one of the 30 elevators.
And hopes to climb to the top of this
new world, however meagre his
startposition seems.
Kafka masterly describes it all
with gallows humor spiked with desperation.
Making it a hilarious read.
The sentences just stand there on the page
and you can hardly do anything but laugh.
E.g.: The kitchen chef told Karl
he had worked in the Golden Goose in Prague.
Karl then told the kitchen chef that
the Golden Goose had been torn down.
And: Karl reasoned that it would have
been insane to turn down a nice
position as piccolo just because he
had finished the first five years
of the Gymnasium school. Here
in America such formal education would
rather be something to be ashamed of.
When people hear the term Kafkan or Kafkaesque,
I guess most people would think of
a dark world,where isolated, guilt-ridden
people face problems that cannot be escaped
or resolved.
Maybe this is also such a story,
but it is also very, very funny.
-Simon
Thanks to one of Kafka's eternal "malentendus" Karl is sent to the immigrant's arena and he has to live on his own. Almost penniless, his sole possessions are his battered trunk and an old photography of his parents.
One can't but feel empathy and tenderness for young Karl. Fired by his uncle who was supposed to protect him, Karl has to cope with two drunkards (an Irish and a French) who attempt by all means to abuse of his innocence by promising him a job in the west coast.
Karl then finds a humble place at a big hotel. He is in charge of one of the numerous elevators and works almost sixteen hours a day just to be dismissed due to a new misunderstanding.
At times hilariously, the novel crudely describes the situation of many Europeans who might have dreamed of America as an oasis to later realize they were just joined as a little part of an enormous and unspeakable machine.
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July 21, 1995 Purposely omitted, "the". Thus, an article averted. A catastrophe forestalled. Like my car when it was still moving, i.e., before it stopped moving, just in front of the new school called The New School, where I was taking a crash course--in hopes of preventing a car crash--in Kafka, (the) Diaries of. All by myself--teacher and pupil. I the teacher, I the pupil. And where was Kafka while all this learninhg was/wasn't going on? Sitting in my car, of course, asleep at the wheel, which turned round and round in his hands, like the globe in God's. Will I ever obtain a learner's permit? Will he? (Will He?)
La descripción de la soledad y de la enajenación del ser humano, en la sociedad moderna, constituye el núcleo central de todas las obras de Kafka. Por ello se suele decir que elaboró anticipadamente algunos de los temas tratados luego, en forma recurrente, por los existencialistas.
La descripción que hace, en forma detallada y realista, de la existencia del individuo moderno (del ser humano individual) revela con eficacia lo absurdo e irreal de su condición. Desde una perspectiva metafísica, la absurdidad se funda en la ausencia de Dios y en la imposibilidad de aferrar o comprender todo aquello que va más allá de lo racional.
Desde el punto de vista de lo social, la absurdidad deriva del carácter sofocante y controlador de la sociedad moderna frente al individuo. Abrumado por estas complejidades, el ser humano no tiene más alternativa que refugiarse en su pequeña realidad personal, renunciando a toda certidumbre o a respuestas convencionalmente confortantes.
Franz Kafka
La pesadilla de Franz Kafka.
Esta pesadilla, es una interminable sucesión de hechos que rayan en el absurdo y en lo incomprensible. Obra de una mente atormentada por ser tal vez tan consciente de su tiempo, de su humanidad y de los días por venir. Kafka tenia una visión que fue incomprendida en su tiempo. Solo a raíz de los acontecimientos posteriores, se logra un entendimiento más o menos cabal de su obra como escritor y de sus relatos de pesadilla, en la que los personajes se ven envueltos en situaciones que parecen estar fuera de su control. El proceso relata la historia de Joseph K., banquero con un futuro prometedor que un día despierta para encontrarse con dos oficiales del servicio policial que se disponen a informarle que esta sometido por un proceso judicial y que tiene que prepararse para un juicio del cual se le informará la fecha. Nunca sabemos en el relato de que es acusado el señor K. Supongo que se le acusa de ser humano, de vivir, de pertenecer a un mundo en el cual no pidió estar. Pero las mías son meras conjeturas y K se enfrenta al proceso solo y desconcertado y cada vez que avanzamos más en la historia vemos que el proceso se torna más envolvente y que cada personaje esta involucrado de manera directa o indirecta con el proceso del cual se le acusa.
Esto es una verdadera pesadilla y a veces he pensado que Kafka quería relatar lo que se sentía estar atrapado entre sentimientos conflictivos, cuando ni siquiera sabes la naturaleza de esos sentimientos; por ejemplo la relación padre e hijo que en kafka aparece con un vinculo excesivo. La novela bien podría ser la relación padre e hijo, en la que el hijo es muy pequeño para entender de que le acusa el padre y cual es el origen de su castigo.
Es una obra excelente. Se hace un poco pesada, pero vale la pena leerla, y complementar esta leyendo la metamorfosis, en la que la alineación llega a extremos horrendos cuando el ser humano es degradado hasta convertirse en un insecto de características horrendas que resulta una carga para la familia.
Luis Méndez.
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One of Kafka's biggest achievements is his ability to have the reader sympathize with the "bad guy". Few authors can really get a reader emotionally involved with the book.
So take home this book and sit in an under-lighted room as you read it, but be prepared. Soon you will find yourself lost within the words of Franz Kafka.
"A Country Doctor" is in my opinion the greatest short story ever written, a dark dream sequence with all kinds of slimy worms writhing beneath the surreal surface plot, sticking out through the rotted boards that Kafka puts down to allow us to see what we're standing over. "The Judgement," a purely perfect work of psychology, Kafka dipping deeper and hitting more nerves than in any of his other stories, giving us a picture of what it's like to be a genius controlled by a domineering, and a nonunderstanding father. And of course there are the smaller works from "Meditations," little snippets of images that flash through the mind, a kind of literary whispering in the ear while sitting in the dark. "The Burrow," another favorite, perhaps the most claustrophobic work of fiction ever conceived, the darkness of the tunnel affecting your mind for days.
Read this book, in it the greatest treasure a writer ever gave us shines, a golden nugget, hidden deep within a dark pool that seems unswimable. Take the swim, and I garantee that you will find the nugget. Ignoring Kafka is like denying yourself the best there is.
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And to the gentleman from Ontario (review, Oct. 18/99) who fretted over the color of the volume in question (and the publisher's good faith): you haven't been reading your Kafka. On page 35 you'll find the following: "There are only two things. Truth and lies. Truth is indivisible, hence it cannot recognize itself; anyone who wants to recognize it has to be a lie." This volume's (non) color is Kafkaesque in the best sense of the term. EXACT CHANGE should be congratulated on their superior understanding of a masterful writer!
They are all there: Gregor Samsa's sister, the luscious Milena Jesenska, the Advocate's "nurse" Leni, Olga and Frieda from THE CASTLE, and the ravishing Dora Diamant. These women are all more durable than both Kafka and Crumb, who are wispy and likely to blow away in the next puff of wind. (I recommend that you see the excellent film documentary of the cartoonist's life, called, appropriately, CRUMB.)
When one concentrates on the women in Kafka's life and work, the result is curiously enlightening. "None of his female characters seems to have her own existence," writes David Zane Mairowitz, "but is spawned in his imagination in order to distract 'K' or 'Joseph K,' to tempt and ensnare him. Kafka's sexual terror is put to the test time after time, yet these same women provide something more.... The outcome of these relationships is rarely 'intimate' (Leni being an exception) and has more to do with power than personal feelings. Kafka's talent would mostly SUGGEST erotic encounter, rather than indulging his characters in that act which he found 'repellent and perfectly useless.'"
Perhaps Mairowitz and Crumb do not provide a measured and scholarly study of the writer, but within a mere 175 pages they have done more to rekindle my interest in Kafka than anything else I have ever read about him. This book is a perfect gem and a work of art in its own right.