First of all, the first posted review under Reed's THOMAS MANN: THE USES OF TRADITION (2nd ed.) is not of Reed at all, but of Prater's recent biography. Reed himself has brought his now 20-year-old study up to date, and it is by far the most aesthetically, politically judicious critique of Mann's career I know of--and written by a scholar who has made significant contributions to an Anglophonic audience's understanding of Goethe, Schiller, and the Weimar classical period generally. One may regret that Oxford books cost so much (!), but in this instance the investment is well worthwhile

Is this one of Mann's best novels? No, it is not. But it is worth reading anyway. Thomas Mann is best known for novels that delve into an almost omphaloskeptic contemplation of Life, Humanity, Evil and Sin painted on the backdrop of the glorious lost Europe of the Nineteenth Century. As charming as Europe is today, what we see is a faint ghost of a graceful time that tried to hold all things, including class structure of society, under a crystal dome. Of course, this failed, and bloodily so, as is the case throughout history. But Mann tried to capture this sense of youth and grace lost in his novels from Buddenbrooks to The Magic Mountain.

In "The Black Swan" Mann uses a woman "of a certain age" as the symbol of lost youth and innocence. The main character struggles with menopause, the hormonal betrayal of women, and she reacts to the physical changes by falling in love with a younger man. This is a well-observed sketch of denial. With astounding insight, Mann has his character finally delude herself into believing she is pregnant--but the bloating is but the symptom of an inner decay. She is dying of ovarian cancer.

The perceptiveness of Mann about women, who suffer a loss of womanhood and fertility as a result of menopause is astounding. The worth of women to young men is for their beauty and fertility. What does a woman who cannot bear a family and who is aging and becoming ugly have to offer a youth? But this is not the only meaning in "The Black Swan." No, it is again a metaphor for the grace, innocence and beauty of old Europe. In the years following both World Wars, the once-graceful continent undergoes a sort of menopause after the violence of the changes brought by the vicious conflict. Europe is older, uglier and sadly, not much wiser.

Perhap's the Master's shortest and most unusual novella, here we see yet another side to this early 20th Century Genius. A study of a middle aged woman slightly deluded about her aging charms with a daughter who seems to sympathize, but really knows better. As usual, some great descriptions of nature, medieval castles, and philosophical discussions between the two. Mann's seeming obsession with the hidden decay of the body, and perhaps German culture and society, are crystal clear. The writing, even in English, is among his most mesmorizing. Really is there any doubt he is the GREATEST 20th Century Writer?!

Although Thomas Mann is probably best known for writing about the conflict between the artist and the non-artist and death versus life in all of us, he is also fascinated by the concept of diesease and the way it treats the human psyche. When, at the end of this (very short) novel, the doctor cuts the protagonist open and sees she is dying of cancer, the "tea leaves" he looks at frightenly trace her roller coaster emotional life for the past six months. HOWEVER, the doctor also has some theories, about menopause, estrogen and cancer, which--largely because of the addition of two Latin words, I was UNABLE TO FOLLOW. In short, I only understand PART of the end of this book! At the end of his life, Mann has defeated me in both English and German.

'Demian' is one of the most insightful books I've read recently and certainly one of the best novels by Hesse. Perhaps it is not as thoroughly satisfying as 'The Glass Bead Game' or 'Siddhartha' - there are some weaker points in the book (I myself dislike the ending), but Hesse explores ideas that are rather innovative and truly fascinating.

In 'Demian' Hesse delves into the importance of coincidences in finding the Self. Only there is nothing coincidental about these coincidences, it is all really the unfolding of the Way. Random things mean much more than the logical ones - that is one of the cornestones of Hesse's philosophy. Chaos is harmony.

The search for the Self is a common theme of Hesse's works, and his approach here is highly interesting and thought-inducing. In order to fully understand this book one would have to read some Jung (particularly 'Memories, Dreams, Reflections') and Nietzsche. However, that's only a suggestion, not a requirement...

It would be inappropriate to start this review without stating that this book is an absolute timeless classic, and will most likely remain that way. Herman Hesse was a frustrated genius, constantly questioning purpose and meaning to life, and incessantly seeking the "right" religion. This book is the byproduct of this experimentation in theology. Despite the deep philosophical questions this book addresses, it also establishes very unique characters that support each other's individuality remarkably. Max Demian, the mystical character of the novel, takes in Emil Sinclair as his friend. Through his maturation, Emil is constantly seeking a higher level of consciousness, and his experiences in the discovery of such a mindset and periodic association with Max make this book extremely engaging. At times the book may seem difficult to understand if one is not familiar with certain biblical references, which are quickly remedied with short reads yielding absolute clarity on such subjects. If accompanied by "Pictor's Metamorphoses" one can see the foundation of fantasy Hesse worked with and held a great interest in. It deserves to be read, because you also bear the sign.

Hermann Hesse is without a doubt one of the most intriguing writers I have ever read. However, when reading reviews and hearing other people's opinions, I usually feel that peopl misunderstood what he is like and what his character represents. This is particularly the case with Demian. This book is often described as a great insight into what it is like going from child to teenager and then entering the adult world. However, I believe that Sinclair, the main character, is not entering the normal world on any level. In fact he is leaving it. The first time he meets Demian, both know there is something different about him. As their friendship/relationship grows, it become smore and more clear that they should not be part of the normal world, where people to choose to be part of a group, to share a religion, to accept the truth as it is told to them. Demian shows sinclair a new world, where people of a higher intelligence, and by that I am referring to more than simply an academic intelligence, will find each other. Those who are different, who choose to be individuals instead of be part of the the main stream mass meet, are Hesse's version of the ubermensch. Where Nietzsche claims that all men can let go of the standards and morals of our society, their religion, their need to be part of a group, can focus on themselves and become better, become the ubermensch, someone who is above all others, someone who is not alone in his existence, but who is alone in his own life, Hesse contradicts this with an ubermensch who is born different, someone who will find others like him, someone who will has a clear vision of what people are like and who he is, an individual, an ubermensch. Hermann Hesse's Demian is not at all about growing up, or understanding "how the world works", Hesse is not for the average reader, but he will only be understood by those who understand themselves and can see themselves as individuals instead of part of the mass. On a more personal note: The very strong homosexual tendencies in this book intensify the emotional appeal of the book and are also simply satisfying.

Mann is to be struggled with; his work to be attacked and repulsed - it is the embodiment of engaging, challenging fiction. It may be advisable to start out with Mario and the Magician, a splendid and accessible story of a hypnotist performing amazing acts on an incredulous audience that is itself hypnotic in alluring its character audience and the reader into a seeminly pedestrian story that turns out to have a whimsical, fantastic denouement. M&M also doubles as a grand metaphor for the fascism that was beginning to grip Germany - the awesome power of a tyrant and the dangerous nakedness of a raptured audience.

Mann passes the test of great writing, in that even in translation, one can appreciate the literary dexterity of a master at work - a writer carried away, inhabiting each sentence of his story. Some of his lesser stories, towards the end of the anthology, are sprawling introspectives and thoroughgoing accounts of places and things.

Death in Venice is a seminal work and sets the tone for Mann's subtle revelations of repressed passions and the tabboo. Mann elegantly lays bare human souls, yet keeping the lid safely fastened to the pressured jar. One of my favorites was Toni Kroger - a touching story of an artist's life, from young man to mature adult. Mann renders beautifully unrequited love and homosocial admiration by the introverted for the extroverts. In reading his stories, we may find that he expresses memories and feelings that were always there, but could not find the words for before. That, perhaps, is the highest achievement of a writer.

The reviews here are all right on. This collection may be the best intro to the GREATEST 20th Century Author..(OK, you may not agree.) Much of Mann is difficult and dense,even for me, a longtime devotee. In this collection, start off with MARIO, a superior look at the sacred and profane. We find a German tourist and his young family in Italy going into a seemingly harmless carnival-type show. The author's portrait of the innocent young is itself worth the entire book,their enchantment at the acts,until an ugly mesmorist makes his appearance performing seemingly impossible tricks on members of the crowd. Slowly, the innocent crowd has been hooked, the children awed by the whole thing, until the final,inevitable end. Reading this,I thought,"Are there really people out there who can perform such acts?" Who knows, but this story is surely a classic,along with the six others, mainly described in other reviews.

Thomas Mann may be an acquired taste in literature; he himself admitted that he had great difficulty knowing when to stop. Buddenbrooks, his autobiographically-based novel of a Northern German merchant family before WWI was supposed to be a short book of about 250 pages, like a Scandinavian novel. Well, it is far longer, and if you like Mann, you are glad of it.

However, tackling The Magic Mountain, with its long philosophical discourses, or other Mann novels is a lot easier if you begin with these short works. (Short is relative; Death in Venice was supposed to be a short story and ended up, predictably, a novella.) The themes in these works show up again in Mann's other writings; Tristan in particular, is a sketch for The Magic Mountain (thumbnail sketch, to be sure.) Tonio Kroger resembles Buddenbrooks in the autobiographical details and setting. The theme of sexual perversion and decadence heading to destruction (supposedly a metaphor for the society of pre-war Germany) appear in both Death in Venice and Blood of the Walsungs.

If you are new to Thomas Mann, these works are a wonderful place to start. If you grow to love his writing, re-reading these is always a pleasure.

This is considered by some to be Mann's last great work. Great it is, though perhaps not the monumental triumph equal to the Magic Mountain. This novel is a Faustian story--its hero is the German composer Adrian Leverkuhn, a musician who becomes so tormented with his music and so obsessed with creative genius that he makes a pact with the devil and bargains away his soul for twenty-four years of unparalleled musical ability.

As always, Mann's work is full of philosophical and theological debates, and there is also a good deal of musical discussion here as well. Adrian's deal with the dark one is a metaphor for Germany in the period during and between the two great World Wars. Like his homeland, Adrian becomes obsessed with power and glory, and revolutionizes music to such a great extent that the outside world is repulsed by it. In the end, like Germany, his power and glory come to an end, and as Serenus (the narrator of the story) sits writing in the midst of the allied invasion of Germany, Adrian is finally called to pay his debt.

Mann's narrative is always very compelling, and this is no exception. And, as usual, there is much deeper meaning than what is perceived at the surface, and the poignant and important message of the novel is the danger of becoming over-greedy for power, and of falling victim to one's own ambitions (as both Adrian and Germany do). Adrian loses his ability to love, and he can never regain it, not even when he ultimately seeks redemption. This is a great spin on the Faustian concept, and also a very powerful novel about the effects of the German Reich during World Wars 1 and 2.

In this reenactment of the ancient Western myth of Faustus, Thomas Mann tells us the story of German composer Adrian Leverkuhn, a man obsessed with themes of mathematics, theology and music. Leverkuhn is intent on composing the greatest and most original work of music ever thought of, and so, in a tiny village in Italy, expresses his disposition to sell his soul to the devil in order to achieve that. He gets what he wants, and for a number of years he works at another village, in Germany, until he achieves his dream, at a cost so terrible that in the end you will feel the creeps about it.

Intertwined wiht this story, written during WWII, are reflections of another selling of the soul to the devil, this time not by an ambitious individual but by a tormented people, the Germans, humiliated after WWI and in the midst of utter decadence, economic, political and moral. The devil is personified by a man called Adolf Hitler, who promises the Germans a thousand years of power and richness, if only they will support him in destroying the Western civilization, the Jews and international peace. And price the pay they do, but somehow you can not trust the devil and in the end, after the most gruesome conflagration in history, destruction is all the Germans get.

This is not an easy read. It takes concentration and a willingness to digest deep reflections on the subjects mentioned above, like the relationships between mathematics and music, sexuality and theology, and the reflex of the ancient myth on the lives of Leverkuhn (the prostitution of art) and Nazi Germany (the prostitution of hope). However, it is an exceptional work of art and of modern thought, so it is very rewarding.

The German obsession with the legend of Faust is updated richly and memorably in what may well be Thomas Mann's greatest achievement. This is a novel about the exploration of ideas--about the underpinnings of art, music and literature. It is a novel about why art and humanity are inextricably intertwined. And it is a novel about how the death of humanity in art is mirrored in the social death of humanity.

This book is my fantasy of university comes to life. When I was young, I imagined that getting a college degree entailed exploring the meaning behind intelligence, art, philosophy and morality. What I got was a bunch of slackers trying to coast through classes just to have something to put on a resume. Doctor Faustus helps fulfill the dream a younger me had. Rich in subtext and detail, many may find it tough slogging at first. Persevere and you will be richly rewarded.

If I had a major criticism with this book, it would be that some chapters seem more like essays than chapters of a work of fiction. I don't care. The ideas are brilliantly explored and presented for your consideration.

Just a note about the review below: My copy of the hardback didn't contain the musical translation errors noted by this previous reviewer. One page, in particular, clearly delineates the differences between the German scheme of musical notation and our more widely known system. Either the reviewer accidentally skipped over this, or the text was corrected somewhere along the line (although I have the first English edition).

Buddenbrooks tells the story of three generations of a proud family in the mid to late 19th century. Sadly, the family heritage begins to sink into a quagmire of bad business decisions, bad marital decisions, apathy and just plain bad luck.

What really sets this opus (and other Mann novels) apart from "standard fare" works of literature is the depth and richness of personalities which are found in its characters. There are no "stock characters" to be found in Mann. By the end of the novel, I felt as though I personally knew the Buddenbrooks and as such was compelled to feel sad about their fate. I can think of no higher compliment that I could possibly grant a novel.

The story tells of a family which thought it would continue to prosper forever. The stark reality soon sets in that the family will have to struggle in order to retain any sort of Buddenbrook dignity at all. It seems that entropy increases with each successive generation, and seemingly nothing can reverse the trend...

So, read this book. Join the Buddenbrooks thru decades of weddings, funerals, musical performances, travels to the beach and deep existential philosophical inquiries. A wonderful glimpse of changing social structures and traditions in mid to late 19th century Germany. life.

LIKE Goethe, to whom he devoted a novel ("The Beloved Returns") and several thoughtful essays, Thomas Mann published his first and most enduringly popular novel at the age of 25. Unlike "The Sorrows of Young Werther" (1774), Goethe's brief epistolary account of the frustrations of life and love leading to the troubled hero's suicide, Mann's "Buddenbrooks" chronicles four generations in the history of a prosperous North German bourgeois family.

The saga picks up the tale of the Buddenbrooks in 1835 at the peak of their financial prosperity and family stability. Old Johann Buddenbrook, son of the founder of the family firm, has just moved the family and the business into one of the most handsome houses in town. By the time the novel ends 42 years later, the aging yet still spirited Tony is almost the only surviving member of the family. Her parents and grandparents, as well as Thomas and a younger sister, have died. Christian is confined to an asylum, and the only male heir is dead. The house has been sold and the firm liquidated. In the course of hundreds of pages we have witnessed a succession of marriages, births, divorces and deaths punctuating the decline of the initially robust family -- a decline brought about by the weakening of business acumen and ethics as the family succumbs to the enticements of wealth, with its inevitable concomitants of sickly religiosity, artistic inclinations and disease.

"Buddenbrooks" constitutes a remarkable achievement for a first novel. Incisive characterizations are achieved through a witty use of German dialects and the adaptation of leitmotif techniques borrowed from Wagner. And the fast-paced narrative is tightly controlled by a structure evident in the parallel between the first chapter and the last: both take place on rainy evenings in the fall, and both feature Tony Buddenbrook in conversations about religion -- first with her rationally skeptical grandfather and at the end with her aged teacher, who has always waged the good fight "against the onslaughts of reason." "Buddenbrooks" encounters a work that is close in style, vocabulary, idiom and tone to the writer's intent and can thus appreciate more fully the monumental achievement of the artist as a young Mann, this is a powerful read!

I read this book for an Independent Study on the works of Thomas Mann. Although I found the beginning a tad slow, it soon picked up. For a book written so long ago, there is a lot in it that applies to life today. In addition, the characters are highly developed, and come alive on the page. You actually CARE about what happens to this family. Thomas Mann wove in so much symbolism and made everything connect so wonderfully, this book, although long, is sure to become a favorite. I would recommend this book to everyone. I have always been an avid reader, but this was my first real reading of Thomas Mann. He does not disappoint.

Tales of Bequia is as refreshing as the breeze on the island paradise's Friendship Bay. Thomsen has a flare for capturing the personality of both the island and its inhabitants. Using a narrative style in the best tradition of Bequian story-telling -the author introduces us to the island through a cast of characters who live there. Each chapter is filled with antidotes of the life on this Caribbean "Island of the Clouds", seen through the eyes of the author. Like reading somebodies personal journal, Thompsen writes about the context of a particular people and the culture of St. Vincent's largest Grenadine island. This book fails to recieve five stars for several reasons. The book is outdated. References to the new Prime Minister and his popularity seem painfully out of touch as the same Prime Minister is now fallen from the nation's favor, even on his own native Bequia. Others mentioned in the book have since died and although things in the islands move slowly, the island has changed since this books printing. Another shortcoming of the book is that Thomsen spends too much time introducing us to those who are not native Bequians. The island has a rich diversity, due in significant measure to the international yachting community, but it is too heavily weighted with stories about Canadians and Americans. The chapters that deal with the Easter Regatta, the rich culture and heritage around Whaling are the best best representatives of Thompsens writing style. I have sat at the Frangipani in Port Elizabeth and watched many of the people Thompsen describes. Those who long to read a good series of stories about a great island and some wonderful people, will enjoy this book.

At the time this book was written my father described life on Bequia as it was. The people he spoke about where very much like himself, seeking solice in a place away from the hustle and bustle of the big city. He owned a major NYC public relations business and it was a place he and my mother could escape to to unwind and regroup. Sadly, this year they sold their home which he had built from stone, purple heart and green heart wood. This house holds many memories for my entire family as do the many friends and acquaintances we had the pleasure to meet over the 30+ years we were fortunate to call Bequia "our home away from home". All three of his grandddaughters and one of his two greatgrandsons have visited Bequia and have many memories. This book was written from his heart and is a tribute to the people of Bequia, those born there and those fortunate to call it home, even for a short while.

This book is like an ocean liner holed beneath the waterline at several points but with effective bulkheads. Although seriously flawed the leakage is contained and the ship stays afloat.

Perhaps the problem is the ship's construction was never completed. Thomas Mann was clacking away at the typewriter just before his death at the age of 80, and more surprising than the fact that the novel remained unfinished is the fact that the narrative voice is that of a smug young man, a charlatan who has decided to regale us with a glib account of his early career.

Because of the necessarily episodic nature of such a fly-by-night career, the story resolves itself into a series of loosely-connected episodes.This is definitely fortunate as some of the episodes are of incomparable brilliance while others are heavy going. In a story with more unity this would have the effect of sinking the whole ship, but compartmentalized as they are, we are able to enjoy Mann's purple passages without too much reference to the episodes that don't work.

The episodes where Felix evades military service and the whole section where he recounts his Parisian days as elevator boy, jewel thief, dishwasher, and popular waiter at a top hotel, were particularly effective, showing Mann's deft touch for entwining character, psychology, and manners.

After these bright spots, most readers will probably feel the last third of the novel, mainly set in Lisbon, is wasted. Here we have a lot of cosmic gobbledygook from Professor Kuckuck and the tedious courtship of the Professor's daughter, Zouzou, who never advances beyond an abstraction of a surly, spoilt young lady. There is still the occasional speck of gold to be panned here in these muddy lower reaches, but the river has by now lost most of its sparkle.

Thomas Mann as a writer definitely had his strong points, as no one really needs to be told, but his strongest point is probably the way he uses language. Some feel that he is overly descriptive and tends to drag things out a bit too much, like henry miller who called him a "great fabricator", but aside from all this, reading Mann is a unique experience. Now, Felix Krull is labeled a "con man extraordinaire" on the back cover of this book, which is fine if it is meant in the old fashioned, acting like an aristocrat way... but for people, like me, who expect a bit more "con" to the "game" the book is a disappointment. This of course, is no fault of Mann's...just do not be misled by people telling you this is a story of a con man. To make this brief, Felix is a person who finds it increasingly difficult do discern between reality and the illusory, making it hard for him to "find himself". This idea culminates near the end where for about 50 pages the "con" is definitely "on". The first half of this book is immensely entertaining, and it carries some passages that would jump out at anybody as fabulous. The second half for the most part, carries a different method of telling the story, as we get less and less of Felix's entertaining interjections...but it still keeps its magnificence due to Mann's incredible gift of flat-out "story telling". The end is strange to say the least, and there is a section where there is a letter of about thirty pages that is written in the dullest, victorian, aristocratic, "proper talk" that, at least for me, was ferociously boring; causing the story to lose a lot of the steam it had built up getting to this point. Not to sound trite, but this really is not Mann's best work, and just because it is "lighter" reading than his other books, does not make it the best introduction to the world of Thomas Mann. In fact, start with the Magic Mountain (yes, it is long) or Dr. Faustus, or even Buddenbrooks... then return to felix krull and it will be a lot more rewarding if for no other reason then because you have become aquainted with Mann's methods and techniques. Not a great book, yet still very good. Go elsewhere if looking for the confessions of a "con man."

In this, the last of Thomas Mann's novels, we see him relaxing, letting his hair down, so to speak. Gone are the philosophical debates of Magic Mountain, the complicated musical discussions of Doctor Faustus, and even the attitude toward decline and decay from Buddenbrooks. This is a book about Felix Krull, a young man who learns early on that life is what he wants it to be. He becomes a 'confidence man,' someone who changes his name frequently and acts in a 'role' of an identity not his own.

The intriguing thing about Krull is that he is every bit the artist. He is an actor through and through, so good at his trade that he actually becomes (even in his own mind) the character he is portraying. The only difference is that his stage is the world at large. Throughout Felix's early years he deceives various people, steals from a couple of them, takes advantage of others. But Felix is not your typical conman. He seems not to want to hurt anyone, and often goes out of his way to be fair to people. The schemes he does pull he does not consider to be necessarily wrong--in fact, he sees himself acting in an acceptable way. His justification for this is that he is made of 'finer clay' than other people.

In Felix we see many of Mann's other characters--Hans Castorp (in his education at the museum in Lisbon), Tonio Kroger (in his musings on the price and toll of being an artist), even Christian or Hanno Buddenbrook in a sense (what they may have been under other circumstances, without familial pressure). Certainly, anyone familiar with Mann's works will notice that most of the themes of this book are familiar, and have been used in other works as well. There really is nothing groundbreaking in Felix Krull--it is rather an enjoyable novel, especially for fans of Mann, that is easy to read and has some good insights in it. It is not his best work, but it is certainly worth the time to read it.

Dr. Mann shows that he has extensive knowledge when it comes to the subject of library research in this book, i.e., The Oxford Guide to Library Research by Thomas Mann. The table of contents is well developed and is easy to use. The preface is very well written and is written in a very scholarly, yet entertaining tone. However, as the chapters progress, one gets the feeling that he, i.e., Dr Mann did not intend this to be so much a novel as a reference work that is meant to be used occasionally if one has a question on a certain topic, e.g., locating material in other libraries or computer searches: types of sources Dr. Mann has also added a surprisingly well developed appendix and the index is one of the better ones created. The only downside is that his writing style gets to be a bit tedious at times; then again this book was not meant to be read from cover to cover, so therefore it serves its purpose well, i.e., that of being The Oxford Guide to Library Research by Thomas Mann.

This is a terrific book for anyone interested in books and finding information. The author works at the Library of Congress, and has extensive experience looking for information of all kinds. he uses both print and electronic sources, and both to great advantage. His tips on using ordinary sources are exceptional; for example, did you know that the AMERICANA often prints important American speeches in their entirety? If you are a book lover, this is a useful guide, which you will use for a long time.

Dr. Mann really pulls out the stops with this excellent reference guide. After 18 years at the LoC he knows the tricks!

I would not buy this book if it were your first forray into the realm of Kafka. But the short stories first, then Amerika, then the trial, and then, if you could make it through the trial, try this read.

The new translation is excellent (I've read both translations) and puts an even grimmer spin on life in the village of the castle.

Please note: Kafka died before finishing the book and he never really prepared it for publication. There are sentences that run half a page, and paragaphs that run almost a whole chapter. The final page ends mid sentence.

If you are a fan of Kafka then this book is a must read, especially if you read the Muir translation of The Castle.

The Castle is a powerful look at a town full of people trying to gain meaning for their lives from something outside of and wholy removed from their selves. The townspeoples alienation from each other and needy grasping toward a Castle that they can dream about but never touch is a disturbing one with strong parallels in today's celebrity worship, religious fundamentalism, and statism. Similiarly, K.'s descent from activism to conformity illustrates the power of mass society and the desire to fit in over the indivdual's need for a self-contained self.

The problem is the book is tooo long. Kafka induces a sense of futility and alienation by making his story move at a glacial pace with minute changes taking chapters to occur. And while this technique works, it's certainly not some great literary accomplishment.

So while The Castle is a relevant treatise on how we give, or fail to give, meaning to our lives; it's also an incredibly dense and difficult read.

Translation means everything! Over the years I've read much of Kafka especially during adolescence and into my early twenties when his worldview spoke most directly to my own attempts to understand how the world really worked. Of all his books only The Castle totally defeated me. I must have begun it five times in my life, only to abandon it partway through. Now I know why. It wasn't Kafka. It was the translation.

Mark Harmon's translation brought Kafka close to my ear and heart, the way he used to when I was younger. I could see the darkness of his interiors, feel the cold of his snow covered wind blown exteriors, smell the stale beer of the taproom, taste the small meals and strong coffee served, sense the animal []attractions of his characters. Most of all I could really hear the voices of his people as they simultaneously revealed and concealed themselves through their stories.

Sometimes I laughed out loud. Sometimes my hair stood on end at the dark realities which this book unveils. The Barnabas family stories in particular chilled me. Especially in this time of fear and shunning by powerful majorities of the 'others'in our societies and in the exhaustion of the 'cleansings' and genocides of the last century, the fall of that family made me feel like I was inside a hateful part of our past, present and future.

I've now lived part of my life within bureaucratic organizations, even as an 'official' and I understand as I couldn't as a youth how absolutely Kafka has gotten to the deepest truths about how our power structures work. What it's like to be enmeshed as part of them, and-or to be at their mercy. It is hard to find free space in the world.

I used to think Kafka was a genius and an artist of the highest rank. Now, reading him in an excellent translation I understand that he was also a prophet.