Franz Kafka Jewish
Heritage
Hermann Kafka had
located his store just beyond the Jewish ghetto
of Prague, and even had his family legally
declared Czech nationals. Still, the Kafka's
were Jewish; Franz was bar-mitzvahed and
attended temple at the local synagogue with his
father. The paradox is clear — Jews and Germans
were hated by the nationalistic Czechs, yet
Hermann raised Franz to speak German and took
his son to Friday-night services.
The seriousness of
anti-Semitism revealed itself to Franz in April
of 1899. Near the week of Passover, a young
Christian girl was murdered, her throat slit
with a knife. Throughout Europe there had been
tales of Jews using Christian blood to prepare
Matzos for Passover — and as far as many were
concerned, this murder proved the tales.
Anti-Semitic riots spread through Prague and
other parts of Bohemia, with boycotts against
Jewish-owned stores and even the destruction of
shops. Hermann Kafka’s shop was spared only
because he was “officially” a Czech.
Franz was 16 years
old at the time of the riots. He responded like
many secular Jews, developing a strong
anti-Jewish bias. Many critics claim Kafka’s
works are in fact tributes to the religious and
mystic heritage of European Jews, but his own
anti-Semitic streak is evident in his diaries.
Sometimes
I’d like to stuff all Jews (myself included)
into the drawer of a laundry basket… then
open it to see if they’ve suffocated.
What do I
have in common with the Jews? I don’t even
have anything in common with myself!
During 1899 and
1900, Kafka’s diaries indicate he read a great
number of philosophy and science texts. He was
fond of Spinoza, Darwin, and Nietzsche. His
extensive reading was paralleled by a period of
creativity. Kafka wrote a extensively between
1899 and 1903, but these early writings were
destroyed by the author. These writings probably
reflected the author’s predisposition toward the
macabre, but we might never know. During this
period of productivity, Kafka met Max Brod, a
writer, critic, and editor of Prager
Tagblatt. Brod was to be a close friend
and editor throughout Kafka’s life.
Hermann Kafka’s
opinion of his son was improved slightly in
1906, when Kafka received his law degree from
German University, Prague. After receiving his
law degree, Kafka worked briefly for an Italian
insurance company. In 1908, Kafka took a
position at the Workers’ Accident Insurance
Institute, a form of Czech “workers’
compensation” insurance company subsidized by
the government. The year he was hired, Kafka
wrote “On Mandatory Insurance in the
Construction Industry,” a report demonstrating
the need for insurance to protect construction
workers’ earnings and families in the event of
injury. His fascination with death and injuries
had found a purpose in advocating for workers.
During the winter
months of 1911 and 1912, Kafka befriended a
Yiddish actor, Isak Löwy, while the actor was
performing with a traveling troupe in Prague.
With Löwy’s help, Kafka began to study Jewish
folklore. Possibly influenced by his mother,
Kafka became obsessed with Jewish mythology,
history, and the Yiddish language. Kafka even
lectured on the Yiddish language at a
university.
On the night of 22
September 1912, Kafka began work on The
Judgment. He began writing at 10 p.m. and
did not stop until 6 a.m. the next morning. In
the opinion of editor Erich Heller, this feat
alone proved Kafka to be a genius. The story, in
standard book format, is a mere 12 pages; but
its affect upon a reader is incredible. Kafka
had created a form of literary surrealism — a
vivid nightmare.
While attending a
small party at the home of Max Brod’s father on
13 August 1912, Kafka met Felice Bauer, a
secretarial assistant in a Berlin office. On 20
September 1912, Kafka began writing letters to
Felice. Many biographers believe Kafka “created”
Felice during this period; not being near her he
created a mental image Felice could never equal.
It was not until the spring of 1913 that Kafka
met with Felice in Berlin. A number of sources
indicate Kafka did not love Felice, and any
attraction was limited. It is possible Kafka was
looking to prove to his father he was “normal”
and planned to settle and start a family. About
the same time, Kafka met an Swiss woman,
according to his diary, and there is also
evidence of a close friendship with Grete Bloch,
a friend of Felice Bauer. If nothing else,
Kafka’s relationships were complex.
Kafka seems to have
thought wedding someone would help him maintain
a sense of normalcy, so he proposed marriage to
Felice on 12 April, 1914. He broke the
engagement on 12 July of the same year. In early
1915, he revived the relationship with Felice,
trying to maintain their friendship. Curiously,
on 20 August, 1916, Kafka composed a list of
reasons for and arguments against marriage to
Felice. Nearly a year later, in July of 1917,
Kafka again proposed to Felice.
Kafka’s diary
entries for September 1917 reflect a man
suffering a great emotional stress. He
apparently considered destroying his notebooks,
calling his writings the result of a “reward”
from the devil for “services rendered.” It is
unclear what those services might have been. A
few days later, he noted the power literature
has to lift “the world into the pure, the true,
the immutable” truth. During such manic cycles,
Kafka would write pages for hours, depriving
himself of sleep. This sleep deprivation might
have exacerbated his condition.
Writing is a
deeper sleep than death…. Just as one
wouldn’t pull a corpse from its grave, I
can’t be dragged from my desk at night.
A life-long
hypochondriac, Kafka’s fears were realized when
the writer was diagnosed with tuberculosis, not
an uncommon disease during the early twentieth
century, on 4 September, 1917. Not long after
the diagnosis, Kafka temporarily ceased
maintaining his diary. He slipped into a mild
depression and broke his second engagement to
Felice in December 1917.
Felice Bauer
finally married another man in early 1919. She
had loved Kafka, but could not endure his
depressions and manic episodes any longer. His
emotions for her were never clear, even to
Kafka.
The Republic of
Czechoslovakia was formed in 1919, yet Kafka
continued to write in German. As a result of
Kafka’s use of the German language, his works
did not appear in a translated form in
Czechoslovakia for more than a decade after his
death. Kafka was not fond of the Czechs and they
did not appear fond of him.
Kafka met Milena
Jesenská-Pollak (also “Jesenska-Polack”), a
Czech writer, in 1920. She was 13 years younger
than Kafka. Their relationship seems to have
been close, with Milena’s own diaries indicating
they made love several times when Kafka visited
her. A potential problem with their deep
attraction was the fact Milena was married to
Ernst Pollak (also “Polack”), a well-known
intellectual of the time. Thankfully, Ernst and
Milena appear to have had an open relationship.
(Ernst had several well-known affairs.)
Kafka made a note
in his diaries on 15 October, 1921, that his
diaries were to be given to Milena upon his
death. The pair last met in May of 1922. Kafka’s
ability to travel had been limited by
tuberculosis and other ailments, real and
imagined, while Milena remained young and
energetic.
As mentioned
previously, tuberculosis was a common disease in
the early twentieth century, and Kafka was among
its many victims. By the age of 39, Kafka was
unable to work — he was bleeding to death
internally. In 1922 he resigned from his
position at the workers’ insurance. For some
time he lived with his sister, Ottla, long his
favorite Kafka family member. In personal notes,
Franz described his relationship with his sister
as a “marriage” without the normal problems.
In 1923 Kafka found
a new companion, Dora Dymant, a Polish Orthodox
Jew. Dora was only 19 when the pair moved to
Berlin. Kafka enjoyed Dora’s company, forming a
relationship much better than those of his past.
It is possible Dora and Franz were in love, not
merely companions. They traveled together during
the last year of Kafka’s life. Kafka was so
pleased with his life, he decided to burn his
previous writings. He informed Dora, asking her
to destroy the manuscripts if he was unable.
Curiously, after making the request Kafka
produced The Burrow.
On 10 April 1924,
Kafka was taken to Wiener Wald Sanatorium,
accompanied by Dora. While in the sanatorium,
Kafka struggled with severe pain. During the
final months of his life, Kafka was reduced to
communicating via written notes. He berated his
doctors and demanded morphine for his pain, a
reasonable request due to the suffering he was
enduring.
Kafka died 3 June
1924. Three days later Milena presented an
obituary, referring to Kafka as “a man condemned
to regard the world with such blinding clarity
that he found it unbearable and went to his
death.”
Kafka’s
Self-Image
Franz Kafka spent
much of his life trying to improve his metal and
physical health. However, his friends considered
Franz physically fit. He was an accomplished
swimmer, enjoyed hiking in the mountains, and
was a talented horseman. Still, Kafka saw
himself as thin, awkward, and even cowardly. He
pursued various “treatments” to improve his
health, when none seemed necessary.
Milena
Jesenká-Pollak wrote that Kafka seemed repulsed
by his own body, and to a lesser extent, hers.
Milena seems to have been reasonably attractive
and enjoyed hiking, yet Kafka still had
difficulty looking directly at her. Milena
wrote:
I knew
his fear before I knew him…. In the four
days Frank was near me, he lost it. We even
laughed about it. But he will never be
healthy as long as he has this fear…. It
isn’t just about me, but about everything
which is shamelessly alive, for example, the
flesh. Flesh is too open, too naked: he
can’t bear the sight of it…. When he felt
the fear coming on, he would stare into my
eyes, we would wait for awhile and it would
soon pass… everything was simple and clear.
- Introducing
Kafka; Mairowitz, p. 107
The irony would
not be lost on Kafka.
After Franz
Kafka’s Death
While Kafka had
written of cruel and unjust treatments of
individuals, even he could not have foreseen the
horrors of the Holocaust. Max Brod saved many of
Kafka’s manuscript pages, despite the author’s
request that all his notes and manuscripts be
burned upon his death. Unfortunately, many pages
were lost when the German army raided the
apartment of Dora Dymant. While Dora survived
the Holocaust, Kafka’s letters and works he had
left with her are presumed to have been burned
by the Gestapo.
Grete Bloch and
Milena Jesenská-Pollak died in 1944, in Nazi
concentration camps. Kafka’s three sisters also
died in Nazi concentration camps. Kafka’s sister
Ottla died a tragic death, having divorced her
non-Jewish husband to remain with the Kafka
family.
Commentaries
Franz Kafka is best
known for describing absurd situations with
simple, cold words. Kafka did not attempt to
shock readers with detailed descriptions of
horrific scenes; instead, Kafka preferred blunt
absurdity. Consider the simple bluntness of the
first sentence to The Metamorphosis:
As Gregor
Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams
he found himself transformed in his bed into
a gigantic insect.
Gregor does not
scream. He does not panic… at least not until he
worries about reporting for work. That one
should not bother reporting for work as a
gigantic insect does not immediately enter his
thoughts. The reader is shocked not by the use
of dashes or exclamation points, but rather by
their absence. The reader knows that he or she
would panic in Gregor’s position. Why does
Gregor accept fate so readily?
Kafka’s diaries and
letters indicate that he considered Gregor’s
fate no worse, or better, than that of any
person. The previous life of a traveling
salesman versus the one-room Gregor inhabits as
an insect are both lives of solitude. Kafka
wrote that “the cares we have to struggle with
every day” are emotional torture.
The short essay, of
less than a half-page, On Parables,
describes Kafka’s ambivalence towards “the wise”
philosophers. In the essay, Kafka claims that
sages’ parables tend to prove only that “the
incomprehensible is incomprehensible, and we
know that already.” For Kafka, the absurdities
of life exist, they cannot be challenged or
understood. His characters accept their fates,
knowing that sometimes a fate is unjust — or at
least unreasonable.
In Kafka’s novel
The Trial, Joseph K., the prisoner,
is stabbed to death. To most readers, this would
seem a cruel and unreasonable death. In his
diary, however, Kafka wrote that Joseph K. was
disposed of “with a gentler hand, more pushed
aside than struck down.” The thought that a
stabbing was a “gentle” act seems absurd.
However, to Kafka, death might have been better
than a lengthy, illogical punishment.
Cursed to Write
Kafka did not look
at writing as a “gift” in the traditional sense.
If anything, he considered both his talent for
writing and what he produced as a writer curses
for some unknown sin. Since Kafka was agnostic
or even an atheist, it is best to assume his
sense of sin and curse were metaphors.
- Kafka knew
he was a gifted writer, a fact he recorded
in his diaries.
- He felt
cursed by his gift, hating the need to write
and the desire for public accolades.
- Kafka spent
his life in perpetual depression and blamed
alternately his father and himself.
These elements of
Kafka’s personality can be observed in the
characters of his stories. The hunger artist and
Josephine, the mouse singer, are cursed by
talent and a need for public attention. In
Josephine the Singer, or the Mouse Folk,
Josephine claims a desire to be ignored, but the
reader knows she needs to hear praise. The theme
of father versus son appears in several texts,
most notably The Judgment. Kafka is
at times disguised in his stories as Samsa,
Bende, or K; at other times, he appears as an
artist. Notice the letter patterns of names, or
the descriptions of characters.
Combining the above
issues in a somewhat coherent manner is
Letter to His Father. Kafka’s November
1919 letter to his father is an indictment
filled with near-hate for his own father. The
letter recounts the punishment he received for
annoying his father one night, by constantly
asking for a drink of water. His father locked
him out of the house for a brief time. While the
punishment was not violent, nor did his father
leave him outside, Kafka’s sensitive nature was
forever marked.
Even years
afterwards I suffered from the tormenting
fancy that the huge man, my father, the
ultimate authority, would come almost for no
reason at all and take me out of bed in the
night and carry me out.
The confusion for
Kafka, the loyal son and emotional victim, is
recorded in the words. Kafka manages to attack
one of the most important people in his life,
knowing that in doing so he is also attacking
himself with guilt. The writer misbehaved as a
child, and was punished. Still, the father’s
punishment was viewed as extreme for the
offense. This theme of punishment beyond reason
for the offense appears throughout Kafka’s
writings. Then, in juxtaposition, Kafka offers a
defense of his father in the same document.
Franz Kafka was
never clear if he was writing because he needed
to do so, or if his pages were meant for the
public. Kafka considered Flaubert a kindred
spirit; both were driven to write. The problem
for Kafka was an inability to finish. It is
unclear if he tired of his novels or struggled
to complete them. Kafka’s The Trial
and The Castle show promise, but
they languished either ignored or put aside by
the author.
Kafka as
Existentialist
Philosophy
professor Robert Solomon states, “The
existential attitude begins with a disoriented
individual facing a confused world he cannot
accept” (ix). However, the individual eventually
accepts and even embraces the absurdity of life.
Albert Camus’ Sisyphus is the often-cited
example of such an existential hero. Sisyphus
not only accepts his fate, he sees his
acceptance as a form of revolt against the
absurdity. Kafka’s characters, too, accept their
fates and embrace the absurdity of the universe.
As William Hubben writes of K. in The
Castle:
As
with Camus’ Sisyphus, every failure is
succeeded by a new and futile effort.
- Dostoevsky,
Kierkegaard, Nietzsche & Kafka;
Hubben, p. 141
Existentialism and
the absurdism of Camus are often considered
together in philosophy and literature. Kafka’s
absurd world belongs in this same grouping, as
he explores the absurd relationships between
individuals, society, technology, and words.
Kafka’s works meet the basic criteria of
existentialism, while adding the additional
depth of postmodern absurdity.
Continental
philosophy historian Walter Kaufmann observes
that individualism is one of the few common
traits among those writers associated with
existentialism. This focus on the individual in
an absurd world is one reason Kaufmann decides
to include works by Kafka in collections of
existential works. As Kaufmann explains:
Certainly, existentialism is not a school of
thought nor reducible to any set of tenets.
The three writers who appear invariably on
every list of existentialists — Jaspers,
Heidegger, and Sartre — are not in agreement
on essentials. By the time we consider
adding Rilke, Kafka, and Camus, it becomes
plain that one essential feature shared by
all these men is their perfervid
individualism.
-
Existentialism; Kaufmann, p. 11
While Marx and
various Marxist movements see a social evolution
in humanity towards a utopian society that moves
beyond a need for government, postmodernism
often rejects this tradition. For this reason,
many Marxist critics consider postmodernism to
be a symptom of capitalism and the alienation
caused by materialism. The postmodern can be a
bleak society lorded over by systems and
mindless organizational psychology. This
bureaucratic nightmare is the world of Kafka,
which Hubben suggests existed throughout Europe
before World War II:
He
expresses an existentialist Weltgefühl with
stronger visionary force than his French
colleagues, and speaks undoubtedly to the
condition of untold men and women in Europe.
- Hubben, p. 139
Kafka does not
theorize a utopian future for humanity. At best,
Kafka has no philosophical or political motives
and merely wants to reflect what he has seen of
human nature. At worst, Kafka believes humanity
is descending into an abyss of alienation in
which individuals can rely on no external truths
or communal obligations. The end result is an
extreme version of alienation that is a forced,
not chosen, individualism.
If anything, Kafka
is more pessimistic than Sartre, Jaspers,
Heidegger, or even Camus. The individual’s
conflict against the absurd is not even heroic;
it is hopeless. Solomon suggests Kafka’s
pessimism moves beyond existential despair:
It is
now standard to link Kafka with Camus as a
prophet of the absurd, but this view ignores
the ultimate despair of Kafka that Camus
rejects. […] One might say that the basic
difference between Camus and Kafka is that
Camus attempts to provide an answer for the
problem Kafka sees as inescapable.
-
Existentialism; Solomon, p. 166
Readers should
compare The Judgment, The
Trial, and In The Penal Colony.
In Kafka’s stories the greatest sin, as in
existentialism, is a failure to be authentic in
the sense Jean-Paul Sartre used the term.
Something does not seem authentic about Kafka’s
punished characters — they do not seem true to
themselves. It is one thing to accept a
situation, it is another to fail to assert an
identity. Without an identity, alienation is
certain.
Alienation
The concept of
alienation in existentialism derives from the
tension between individual free will and various
relationships. The metaphysical alienation is
represented by the existential understanding of
faith; humans are separated from any
understanding of their creator. The social
alienation is caused by the inability of one
person to understand another with any certainty.
Alienation becomes
a way of life as people realize connecting in
the postmodern world is an unrealistic dream.
Kafka’s characters have not surrendered to this
alienation, however. If, as Sartre famously
argues, people must define themselves through
choices and living, then many of Kafka’s
characters have chosen to be individuals apart
from their communities. Most notably, the
artists in Kafka’s stories are no longer
essential to their communities but insist on
remaining true to their natures. Josephine the
mouse singer and the hunger artist are outdated
and unessential, but they choose to remain
artists. The alienation of Josephine and the
hunger artist might seem extreme, but in the
postmodern world, all people are alienated from
each other and reality to some degree.
Kafka’s diaries and
letters indicate that he considered Gregor
Samsa’s alienated fate in The
Metamorphosis no worse, or better, than
that of any person. The previous life of a
traveling salesman versus the one room Gregor
inhabits as an insect are both lives of
solitude. Kafka wrote that “the cares we have to
struggle with every day” are emotional torture.
Hubben relates this to the conflicts between
economic models:
It is
interesting that Kafka was one of the first
to touch upon the despair of a key figure in
the economic system that is now engaged in a
life and death struggle in Europe, the
salesmen whose function in free enterprise
is that of a missionary.
- Hubben, p. 154
Some Marxist
critics have tried to claim Kafka as one of
their own, a voice against the alienation in
this postmodern life. Walter H. Sokel makes this
claim, suggesting Gregor Samsa represents a man
“estranged from himself” by capitalism (Thiher,
148). Olson takes this further by relating
Sartre’s notion of “the look” to the competition
faced by men like Gregor Samsa:
Clearly, Sartre’s “The Look” is not a basic
ontological fact from which all conflict is
derived and in terms of which conflict must
be defined. A moment’s reflection will
reveal that we do not enter into conflict
with one another because we look at one
another. One the contrary, it is because we
conflict with one another that we look. We
rarely look as passing strangers on the
street, but we do look closely at the man
who is competing for a job we want
ourselves.
-
Existentialism; Olson, p. 187
According to
Hubben, Kafka was unable to share his friend
Martin Buber’s religious fervor. While Buber
influenced Kafka’s understanding of
existentialism, he was unable to help Kafka find
faith. Hubben notes that Kafka’s fiction
demonstrates this loss of faith:
God has
indeed died.
Kafka,
who is neither an atheist nor one capable of
rallying himself to a strong affirmation of
his Jewish faith. Kafka’s men are living in
that world without God of which Nietzche
predicted that it would be somehow older,
strange, and suspicious, a late hour of
mankind.
- Hubben, p. 144–5
Solomon explains
that Kafka comes to see sin and guilt not as
personal truths, as some postmodernists might,
but as too difficult to distinguish. Words have
become so confusing that determining what is an
objective truth, and therefore pure and good, is
impossible. Solomon considers this the basis for
much of the absurdity in Kafka’s tales:
For
Kafka, the absurdity of sin and guilt lies
not in the indifferent world but rather in
the very indistinguishability of the
subjective and the objective.
- Solomon, p. 166
Kafka was in search
of wisdom, not an epistemic search for truth.
His literature mocks the search for truth, since
wisdom requires more than scientific pursuits.
There is validity to things as they are, even
when events and situations seem absurd and
confusing. An epistemological exploration of
Gregor Samsa, K., Josephine, or any other
character in Kafka is to ignore Kafka’s
existentialism.
While Kafka might
not pursue the epistemic, he does pursue the
ontological. If we define ontology as the quest
for a description of the concepts and
relationships that can exist for an agent or a
community of agents, then all Kafka’s writings
deal with the ontology of human, and therefore
complex, relationships.
In 1908, Kafka
accepted a position at the Workers’ Accident
Insurance Institute, a “workers compensation”
insurance company subsidized by the government.
The year he was hired, Kafka wrote “On Mandatory
Insurance in the Construction Industry,” a
report demonstrating the need for insurance to
protect construction workers and families in the
event of injury. Despite his work, Hubben tells
us Kafka was not developing a philosophy of
social justice:
His position
at the Workers’ Accident Insurance afforded
many contacts with those whose claims came
to his desk, and he once remarked in a
mixture of admiration and impatience how
humble these little people were.
…he shared
Henry David Thoreau’s conclusion that “the
mass of men lead lives of quiet
desperation.”
Kafka
was hardly a reformer. He was, likewise, not
a great thinker, philosopher, or theologian.
His own life… speaks to the condition of
many who are searching for the causes of our
present moral exhaustion.
- Hubben, p. 154
As stated earlier,
in stripping language bare, countering the
figurative language of nineteenth-century
literature, Franz Kafka represents a bridge to
the philosophical schools of the twentieth
century, especially the heightened distrust of
words, science, and truth we find in European
postmodernism and specifically in
existentialism. Kaufmann recognizes this
bridging:
Kafka
stands between Nietzsche and the
existentialists: he pictures the world into
which Heidegger’s man, in Sein und Zeit, is
“thrown,” the Godless world of Sartre, the
“absurd” world of Camus.
- Kaufmann, p. 143
Before the
twentieth century, philosophers hoped to reveal
the best way to achieve a good and meaningful
life, which generally meant a life connected to
nature and community. Existentialism rejected
these connections, and more drastically rejected
any notion of achieving real satisfaction in
life. Characters in Kafka’s tales are left
wanting something, needing a connection to the
world that can never be made complete.
Kafka, influenced
by Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, and his friend Martin
Buber, merges these recognized existential
philosophers to create a more refined worldview
— and a razor-sharp writing style. His friend
and editor, Max Brod, struggles to define the
“fundamental” Kafka, despite the disarmingly
simple language Kafka used. Brod writes of both
a fundamental outlook and a fundamental
principle behind Kafka’s works:
Kafka’s fundamental outlook may be
summarized in some such formula as this:
almost everything is uncertain, but once one
has a certain degree of understanding one
never loses the way anymore.
- Franz Kafka;
Brod, p. 173
Kafka’s fundamental principle: pity for a
mankind that finds it so hard a task to do
what’s right. Pity, half-smiling,
half-weeping, pity.
- Brod, p. 180
Kafka’s internal
conflict — the desire for a universal truth and
connection to others while assuming such
connections were illusions — certainly brings
him into the realm of existentialism. Like
Frankl, Buber, or Sartre during the war Kafka
would not experience, Kafka tried to convince
himself of something he thought was a lie:
truth.
The
Judgment (1912)
Scholars seem prone
to either over-simplify or over-analyze
The Judgment. Then again, I am likely to
over-analyze the work because it demanded my
attention the first time I read the story in
junior high school. I have read the story many
times, studying the structure and the tale. It
is not my personal favorite Kafka story, but the
structure is quite compelling.
The main character
in The Judgment, for there is no
hero, is Georg Bendemann. Kafka explained in a
letter to Felice Bauer that Georg Bende was him,
thinly veiled. The “-mann” was a reference to
manlihood or authority, which Georg wishes to
assert. By trying to be a man, Georg is
attempting to become his father’s equal, which
no son can do in his own mind. His punishment,
as decided by his father — death by drowning.
One potential issue
for study is why Georg is driven mad by the
break with his fiancée. Kafka broke two
engagements with Felice. Another might be the
choice of punishment, since Kafka was an
excellent swimmer. Kafka is everywhere in his
tales, especially his fears and insecurities.
The tale begins
when a young man, Georg, writes a letter to
inform a close friend who lives in Russia of his
engagement to a young woman from a well-placed
family. Actually, Georg had mailed three
previous letters to the friend, each discussing
the wedding plans of an unimportant man to an
unimportant woman in the town. Georg has yet to
reveal that it is he getting married. Georg’s
friend had moved to Russia to conduct business.
Unfortunately, the friend’s ventures are
failing. Out of empathy, Georg has not revealed
his own increasingly good fortunes to this
friend.
Before mailing the
letter, Georg checks on his father, a once
imposing man who is now a sickly, senile shell.
The Judgment then becomes a
recounting of the last conversation between
father and son. The conversation begins with the
father, who admits to a faulty memory, demanding
to know if Georg really has a friend in St.
Petersburg. After Georg tells the story of his
friend’s move to Russia, his father declares
that he does indeed remember the friend.
Georg’s father
declares, “Of course I know your friend. He
would have been a son after my own heart.” This
mildly cruel statement is accompanied by the
revelation Georg’s father is aware that his son
has been writing “lies” to the friend. The
father’s outrage makes little sense, since the
friend is a failing businessman, while Georg has
turned his father’s business into a growing
enterprise.
Suddenly, Georg’s
father begins to dance about, proclaiming that
his son is marrying only because Georg has slept
with the woman. Worse, Georg’s father reveals he
has been writing to Georg’s friend during the
last few years. While it might seem reasonable
to question the sanity of the Georg’s father, he
has stolen a friendship and threatens to destroy
his son’s wedding plans. The father’s tirade
ends with “I sentence you now to death by
drowning.”
Disgraced by his
father, Georg flees the house, runs to a bridge,
and tosses himself into the river. Kafka
describes Georg’s last act: “He swung himself
over, like the distinguished gymnast he had once
been in his youth, to his parents’ pride.” Oddly
enough, Georg’s last statement is, “Dear
parents, I have always loved you, all the same.”
Written in a single
night, 22 September, 1912, The Judgment
is a great literary accomplishment. The story is
not simple to read, requiring the reader
untangle the relationships between a father,
son, and an unseen friend in Russia. It is the
difficulty of the story that draws the reader
into the text. The convoluted story reflects the
neurosis of the son, the main character.
As stated
previously, the main character in The
Judgment, Georg Bendemann, is Franz
Kafka. The "mann" suffix of the last name was a
reference to manlihood or authority, which Georg
wishes to assert. By trying to be a man, Georg
is aspiring to the greatness he once attached to
his father. Young children see their parents as
giants, in Kafka’s view. Georg’s punishment for
encroaching on this authority, as decided by his
father, is death. The irony is that Georg is
healthy and the father appears near death.
Georg has improved
his father’s business and taken his father’s
place as the head of the company. Compounding
his sins against authority, Georg now cares for
his father, assuming control over the old man’s
care. In effect, Georg is now like the father in
every way that matters. This assumption of power
is unacceptable, so Georg must die.
Some critics have
maintained the story is much more basic than
that of a son punished for taking power from his
father. The simple reading of the tale is that
Georg did dishonor his mother, possibly by
sleeping with his girlfriend in his parents’
house. If this is true, then Georg’s suicide is
an act of guilt. It is worth noting Kafka
himself had an aversion to sex and all forms of
pleasure, yet found himself visiting brothels at
the time this story was written.
If marriage serves
to improve the standing of Georg Bendemann, then
it might be fair to relate this tale to Kafka’s
own engagements to Felice Bauer. The
Judgment was written before Franz Kafka
asked Felice Bauer, a young woman from a
moderately successful family, to marry. Is
Felice The Judgment’s “Frieda” or
was the name a mere coincidence? If Felice is
Frieda, did Kafka intend from their first
meeting to propose marriage? These questions are
important, as evidence suggests Kafka did not
love Felice. His offers of marriage seem more a
gesture to placate his father than to truly find
companionship.
Metamorphosis (Die
Verwandlung, 1915)
As Gregor
Samsa awoke one morning after disturbing
dreams, he found himself transformed in his
bed into an enormous bug.
Als Gregor
Samsa eines morgens aus unruhigen träumen
erwachte, fand er sich in seinem bett zu
einem ungeheueren ungeziefer verwandelt.
Translated in
various editions as a “gigantic insect” and an
“enormous bug,” the form assumed by Gregor Samsa
one morning is never specific. Easily Kafka’s
most famous work, Metamorphosis
deals with the acceptance of an absurd fate.
Salesman Gregor
Samsa wakes one morning to find himself an
insect. He does not panic; in fact, he reacts
with an eerie calm, convinced he can still
function within human society. As the story
progresses, Gregor slowly accepts he is not
human. Not only can he not function within
normal society, but he is also an outcast from
his own family, even his beloved sister.
Gregor’s income had
supported the Samsa family, so his
transformation results in a series of changes
within the household. First, his father is
forced to take a position as a doorman. Mr.
Samsa is forced to wear an ill-fitting
military-style uniform, which looks ridiculous
on the old man. When the job proves
insufficient, the Samsas take in three boarders.
These men are quite
orderly and demanding. One night they ask
Gregor’s sister, Grete, to play the violin for
them. Before Gregor’s transformation, she had
hoped to study violin. While she plays, Gregor
is overcome by emotion and leaves his room, in
which he normally hides from his family and the
renters. When one of the renters spot Gregor, he
and the other renters announce the house is
disgusting and filthy. The loss of rental income
will certainly devastate the family, Gregor
realizes.
Gregor returns to
his room, while the family discusses what a
problem he has become. Even his sister, the
person for whom he cared most, suggests the
family must find a way to dispose of Gregor.
Emotionally broken, Gregor dies, alone in his
room that very night. When the giant insect is
discovered the next morning by the chambermaid,
the family finds new energy. Free of Gregor, it
is made clear by Kafka the family is now happy —
they have been transformed.
When
Metamorphosis was published, it was
common to include illustrations within a work.
Kafka objected strongly to any illustration
depicting the insect, preferring the image be
left to the readers. When the first edition of
the story appeared in book form, Kafka wrote an
angry letter to the publisher, Kurt Wolff,
regarding the cover illustration:
Not that,
anything but that! The insect itself
cannot be depicted. It mustn’t even be
shown from a distance.
Kafka wanted
readers to imagine the worst possible fate for
Gregor, which no artist could accomplish with
universal affect.
It is much too easy
to see the Kafka name in “Samsa” — there was no
effort by the author to hide the fact he was
writing a story about his own emotional state.
Kafka’s acute sense of alienation is well
documented. In his diaries, he often compared
himself to a bug, a worm, and other animals
meant to generate disgust. There are many
passages within the story worthy of in-depth
analysis; I suggest students pay particular
attention to Gregor’s relationships within the
family. Kafka himself had one sister, Ottla,
with whom he was particularly close. How does
the story reflect the Kafka household? How do
you think his family reacted to the tale? Did
they see themselves clearly or miss the obvious?
In
The Penal Colony (In
Der Strafkolonie, 1914)
Few stories affect
a political discussion quite like In The
Penal Colony. To state the story cemented
my views on punishment might be an
overstatement, as I think Hugo’s essays on
punishment had a greater influence upon me, but
this tale did offer important reinforcement of
my views. Somehow those inflicting a punishment
manage to convince themselves, at least
momentarily, that there is some greater good in
punishment. Suffering is expected to enlighten
the violator, resulting in a mystical state of
euphoria and understanding. Personally, when
reprimanded I have only come to believe more
strongly in the correctness of my actions or
have come to resent the one delivering the
punishment.
Some have suggested
my outline and discussion of this work are not
true to the work’s form or message. All readers
impose their own biases upon a work. Also, I am
not outlining the work for students, but rather
as a starting point for discussion.
The story opens
with a traveler being given a tour of a penal
colony by its governor, or “the officer,” as
Kafka’s narrator refers to him. This chief
officer of punishments is quite pleased to have
a visitor and enjoys the opportunity to showcase
his colony and its methods. Upon encountering a
complex machine, the traveler is told he is
about to witness the execution of a guard. This
guard, representing order and justice, has been
condemned by the governor for “disobeying and
insulting a superior.” It seems the guard had
the misfortune of falling asleep while on duty.
As in many Kafka
tales, the governor of the colony imposes
justice in a very precise manner: guilt is never
in doubt. The governor is judge, jury, and
executioner; he is the authority within the
colony. The guard to be executed received no
trail, not even an explanation of the charges
against him. He should know what he has done,
the governor indicates.
The
condemned man looked like such a submissive
little dog that he might have been left to
wander the surrounding hills and only
whistled for at the moment of execution.
Kafka has the
governor describe the machine and its function
in detail. In one of Kafka’s best-written
dialogues, the governor revels in describing the
machine. The governor’s absolute pleasure
contributes to the tale’s horrific nature.
The harrow
is then lowered on to the man’s body so that
its needles just barely touch the skin.
The harrow
is make of glass so you can watch its
progress….
There are
two kinds of needles. The long needles write
on the skin and the short ones spray water
to wash away the blood so that the
inscription is clear. The harrow keeps on
writing deeper and deeper for twelve hours.
Usually, after six hours, the condemned can
decipher the message through his wounds.
Finally,
when the harrow has pierced through his
entire body, after turning him around, it
casts him automatically into the grave.
After describing
the machine and the process by which it is to
execute the guard, the governor of the colony
seeks the approval of the traveler. However, the
traveler does not approve of the device and
refuses, albeit politely, to speak on behalf of
the machine upon his return to their native
country. Desperate for approval, the colony’s
governor orders the condemned guard released.
For a moment, the traveler wonders if the
governor might reevaluate the use of such a
cruel device. Of course, Kafka would not be
Kafka without adding a twist to the tale.
As with many early
“programmable” devices, the execution machine’s
inscription can be changed via a template. The
governor shows the traveler a leather guide
reading “Be Just” — though the traveler cannot
make out the phrase — and inserts the guide into
the device. Without warning, the governor
disrobes and climbs unto the bed of the machine.
Guards, including the formerly condemned man,
then strap the governor to the table. It seems
the governor only wishes to show how the machine
works, but the traveler anticipates much more is
about to occur.
In grand Kafka
style, the machine malfunctions, disintegrating
as it tortures the colony’s governor. Instead of
gently carving the “Be Just” phrase into the
man’s back, the machine plunges needles deep
into his flesh.
Instead of
writing, the harrow was only jabbing, and
the bed, not turning the body over, simply
raising it up, quivering, against the
needles.
The traveler knows
instantly that the governor is being killed by
his own machine. All that is left to do is wait
for the machine to discard the body into a
grave.
…and now the
last thing went wrong as well: the body
failed to come loose from the long needles
but hung suspended above the pit without
falling.
His face
remained as in life. What the others had
found in the machine the officer had not
found. His lips were pressed together, the
eyes open, calm and full of conviction,
through the forehead came the point of the
big iron spike.
On a historical
note, it is useful to know “writing automatons”
were popular amusements before World War I.
These figures would hold a pen and write words
or phrases using a template and a spring-based
mechanism. Kafka certainly would have seen such
devices. One common figure was that of a monk or
saint writing biblical quotations. Kafka was
surely aware of these machines; he had a great
deal of interest in technology. Why might Kafka
have a programmable machine kill? Why did it
kill its owner? Was Kafka afraid of technology
or the uses people might find for technology? It
has been said it is easier to have a machine
execute a person. Is the death penalty made
easier if no human contact is involved?
The
Trial (Der
Prozess, Written 1914)
Known for its
“story-within,” The Trial was one
of Kafka’s favorite works. As with Kafka’s other
works, the reader meets a man witnessing an
absurd form of “justice” — a legal system
without logic. The Trial represents
a common theme in Kafka’s stories: all people
are guilty of something and the punishments are
in inverse proportion to the sin.
Josef K. awakes one
night to discover men walking about the boarding
house in which he resides. These men promptly
arrest Josef, without stating a reason. When
Josef asks why he is being arrested, one man
tells him he will be told in “due course.” The
reader senses immediately Josef will not learn
what crime he has committed, especially if the
reader is familiar with Kafka. Maybe Josef has
committed no crime, or maybe the crime was
minor, but the reader knows the punishment is
certainly severe.
The Parable of
The Law
While awaiting
trial, Josef is counseled by a priest, who tells
him a parable. This story within The Trial
is better known by many students than The
Trial itself. In the priest’s tale a man
from the country arrives in front of “the law” —
a common term meaning both “the courts” and
“truth” in Talmudic tales. The man from the
country wishes to be admitted to “the law” but
the door is guarded by a menacing doorman. The
doorman informs the traveler he cannot enter at
the present time. Being reasonable, the man
decides to wait until he is permitted entrance
into the law.
The doorman offers
the man a stool, upon which the traveler sits
and rests. Days pass, then years, with the man
asking from time to time if it is now the time
at which he can enter the law. Each time the
guard responds, “not yet.” The traveler is eager
to enter the law, however, and offers the guard
bribes. Though the doorman accepts the bribes,
he does not let the man pass through the door.
As the traveler
nears death after years of waiting, he notices a
radiance from beyond the door. He asks why no
one has passed through the door. The guard
responds that the door was meant only for this
one man. Then, the guard goes to close the door.
Josef K. is left to ponder, along with the
reader, the meaning of the priest’s parable.
Should the man from the country have attempted
to pass the doorman? Was “the law” symbolic of
truth, a court, or something else? Why does the
man not leave and go about his life?
Leni, The Nurse
Kafka’s sexual
insecurities and peculiarities are given form
through the character of Leni, the Advocate’s
nurse. The Advocate, a form of judge-attorney,
maintains a nurse to care for accused men.
Unfortunately, she seems attracted to these men,
including Josef K., who is also attracted to
her. Leni sneaks Josef into the Advocate's
office, where she attempts to seduce him.
Several times during her pursuit of Josef she
demands to know why he is more concerned with
his trial than her. The reader is presented with
passion as a distraction from greater issues.
Josef attempts to
explain the trial’s importance, as his very
existence is at stake. However, Leni responds by
asking if Josef has a girlfriend. Josef does
have a girlfriend, Elsa, and carries a picture
of her. As Leni studies the picture of Elsa, she
demands to know of Elsa’s defects. This curious
request is explained by a minor defect possessed
by Leni; readers might consider the significance
of this defect. While studying Leni’s defect,
Josef and Leni begin a physical encounter unlike
most described in the works of Kafka.
Empty Death
The last scene of
the tale is Josef K.’s execution. Still
uncertain of his crime, but even less certain of
his innocence, Josef K. goes to the slaughter
much like the guard sentenced to die In
The Penal Colony. Josef offers no
resistance; he does not even plead his
innocence. Kafka’s characters seem to accept
their situations, no matter how grim.
The execution scene
is too complex to relate well in a short
commentary. In brief, the two executioners offer
Josef K. an opportunity to take his own life. In
The Judgment, that is exactly the
choice made by the main character, but Josef K.
is not able to take his own life.
K. knew
perfectly well that he was meant to take the
knife and plunge it into himself, but he did
not do so.
Is Josef K. weak?
Does he have doubts about his guilt? Instead of
taking his own life, Josef looks to a house
located near the edge of the quarry where he is
to be executed. Seeing a figure in one of the
windows, Josef ponders who the figure might be.
Josef wonders if it could be a friend… or could
it be the very judge who sentenced him to death?
While pondering this figure, Josef’s
executioners decide they will carry out the
sentence.
…while the
hands of one of the men closed around his
throat, the other drove the knife deep into
his heart and twisted it twice.
As his eyes
grew dim K. could still make out the two men
near his face, their cheeks touching as they
observed the crucial moment…
Students of Kafka
should compare The Judgment,
The Trial, and In The Penal Colony.
Is Josef K. any more or less tragic than other
characters? I would suggest the greatest sin,
especially in existentialism, is a failure to be
authentic in the sense
Jean-Paul Sartre used the term. Something
does not seem authentic about most of Kafka’s
characters — they do not seem true to
themselves. It is one thing to accept a
situation, it is another to fail to assert an
identity.
The
Castle (Das
Schloss, Written 1922)
An unfinished
novel, The Castle is a continuation
of Kafka’s earlier works — it fails to establish
any new themes or expansion of thought. There
are hundreds of essays, books, and academic
articles on The Castle; I
personally fail to see this work as any better
than Kafka’s others. In my opinion, the only
reason The Castle contributes to
voluminous study is its lack of completion.
Unfinished works leave a lot of room for
conjecture. How did Kafka intend to end the
work? Did he tire of the novel? Did he write
himself out of an ending? Personally, I think he
simply realized the work said nothing new to him
or potential readers and stopped writing.
By the time he
began writing The Castle, Kafka had
shortened the name of his main character to “K,”
a man without a name but again a likely
reference to the author. The novel begins with
K, a professional land surveyor, arriving in a
village during a winter storm. He has been
summoned by Count West-West, whose castle
overlooks the village. But, as one might expect
in a Kafka story, K will not meet the Count or
perform any specific work.
The castle of the
novel’s title is not what one might expect; it
certainly is not what K expects to see:
He was
disappointed… It was neither an old fortress
nor a new mansion, but a dismal collection
of innumerable small buildings packed
together. Swarms of crows circled around the
only tower.
It quickly becomes
clear to K his presence in the village is the
result of a bureaucratic mistake. A surveyor was
requested some time ago by the Count, but the
request was rescinded almost as long ago.
Despite the error, The Castle and its
authorities still send K a pair of assistants,
Arthur and Jeremiah. Readers should recognize
these characters as “fools” in the traditional
sense; they provide comic relief while acting as
a chorus. The use of fools indicates Kafka’s
familiarity with dramatic tradition.
The only reason
there is a novel is K’s failure to leave the
village, long after he has realized there is no
need for a land surveyor. Why does K remain?
Only Kafka knows why K does not leave the
village — and only Kafka knows if he intended to
finish the novel.
The Characters
The Castle
features many interesting and confusing tales as
K remains in the village, but it is the
characters who make the story worthy of some
study. The characters and their relationships to
K reflect Kafka’s own relationships and fears.
Instead of dissecting the novel, I prefer to
study the characters and how they reveal facets
of Kafka to the reader. Of course, I have
already stated the characters seldom reveal
anything not already indicated in other tales.
It is possible had Kafka lived a full life his
writings might have evolved, but The
Castle leads me to wonder if he had
stagnated as a writer.
One can see the
characters of The Castle as a set
of recycled types, found in Kafka’s various
works. The unknown, unseen Count is the
authority we never meet in The Trial.
Klamm, the official, is a man simply doing his
job, no matter how unreasonable; a father figure
of sorts. But most striking are the female
characters. K needs the women and relies upon
them for support — literally, in several scenes.
While the women provide support, they also
distract the surveyor from his pursuit of work.
The women are obstacles to varying degrees.
Klamm, The
Castle Official
The land surveyor K
searches for Klamm, an official linked to The
Castle. Klamm symbolizes authority and
bureaucracy, which is present in most Kafka
tales. When K spies Klamm through a peephole,
the official is described as a paunchy,
middle-aged man behind a desk; Klamm is a
stereotypical government employee.
Frieda, The
Barmaiden
Possibly based upon
Milena Jesenská-Pollak, Frieda is the mistress
of an official from The Castle. Milena was
married to Ernst Polack, a noted intellectual
power, as Frieda is the mistress of a powerful
figure. While Frieda works at the local inn as a
barmaid, she does not view herself as a mere
worker. Her affair with Klamm, the bureaucrat,
makes her important.
Frieda is
unquestionably a strong female character; she
even uses a whip at one point to control a mob
of castle servants who are drinking at the inn.
This expression of power has an obvious effect
upon K — his attraction for her increases with
each dominant act she performs. After Frieda has
chased the castle’s servants from the inn’s bar
with a whip, the landlord of the inn enters. K
hides under the bar counter, having been
previously warned he is not truly welcome at the
inn. Frieda presses K down with her foot while
she tells the landlord the surveyor is not in
the bar. K is excited by her ruse.
The scene that
follows describes K and Frieda making love under
the counter, without the use of graphic imagery.
Passion for Kafka is not something easily
accepted or understood; he often felt disgusted
by sexuality, yet seemed unable to resist it.
The encounter between K and Frieda is abruptly
ended by a voice from Klamm’s room, adjacent to
the bar, calling for Frieda. To K’s horror she
responds, “I’m with the land surveyor!” and vows
never to go to Klamm again.
Frieda becomes K’s
fiancée overnight, then leaves him in the
morning for one of the fools. One must wonder
how a fool is superior to K. Kafka’s poor
self-image seems to be the underlying issue, or
is this merely fiction?
Olga and
Amalia, Sisters
It is Olga, a
“great strapping wench,” who introduces K to the
inn and the bar. If it were not for Olga, K
would not encounter Frieda as he does. There are
several scenes with Olga, usually demonstrating
the peasants’ need for escape and debauchery.
Amalia represents
the plight of a moral person in an amoral world,
where authority can do as it pleases. Amalia
refuses the advances of a an official from The
Castle, but as a result her entire family
suffers.
Pepi and the
Chambermaids
Pepi replaces
Frieda as the barmaiden and as K’s interest.
Pepi offers K a room, which she shares with two
chambermaids. K’s presence in the room must be
kept secret, which Pepi claims will bring the
four closer together. There is an unmistakable
sexual tension in the situation, with K as the
“protector” of the women, yet obviously
subservient to them. The oedipal nature of this
room is worthy of study.
The Landlady
The final scenes of
The Castle deal with the landlady.
These scenes are as confusing as anything found
in The Judgment, taking on an
almost surreal quality. One might read these
scenes several times, each time theorizing
another motivation prompting Kafka’s dialogue.
Is the landlady similar to Pepi? Why are
exchanges between the surveyor and the landlady
focused upon her appearance? The final exchange
in the novel indicates the landlady considers
the surveyor a man of fine tastes; she wishes to
take him shopping with her as a fashion
consultant of sorts…. Then the story ends.
A
Hunger Artist (Ein
Hungerkünstler, Published June 1924)
During May 1924,
Kafka was editing one of his best short stories:
A Hunger Artist. In fitting irony,
Kafka himself was starving as a result of his
tuberculosis, which had made it nearly
impossible to eat solid foods. Kafka was editing
the final proofs of A Hunger Artist
when he died in Wiener Wald Sanatorium on 3 June
1924.
The story describes
the act — and predicament — of a hunger artist,
a professional faster. The hunger artist would
fast for days at a time, attracting large crowds
at carnivals with his ability to do without
nourishment. In many ways he was admired for an
apparent sacrifice. But with time the crowds
dwindled and the hunger artist no longer
attracted carnival guests.
During these
last decades the interest in professional
fasting has markedly diminished. It used to
pay very well to stage such great
performances under one’s own management, but
today that is quite impossible. We live in a
different world now. At one time the whole
town took a lively interest in the hunger
artist….
The obvious
comparison is between Kafka and the hunger
artist. Kafka, like many writers, believed he
was driven to write — not necessarily enjoying
the act of creation. In fact, writing was a
troubling and almost painful process for Kafka.
The hunger artist did not so much choose to be a
professional faster as he simply was inclined to
fast. Authentic existence is the act of being
true to one’s nature; Kafka and the hunger
artist are both attempting to be authentic.
"I always
wanted you to admire my fasting," said the
hunger artist.
"We do
admire it," said the overseer, affably.
"But you
shouldn't admire it," said the hunger
artist.
"Well then
we don't admire it," said the hunger artist,
"but why shouldn't we admire it?"
"Because I
have to fast, I can't help it," said the
hunger artist.
The remainder of
the story is quite amazing. The artist dies as
one expects, only to be replaced by a panther —
kept in the same cage the artist once occupied.
How is the panther symbolic? What is Kafka
telling the reader? Was the overseer
unsympathetic to the artist?
A Hunger Artist
is a parable, a short story masterpiece in my
opinion. I place it at the end of a Kafka
reading list because it represents clarity Kafka
often lacked in his other works. Introducing
students to Kafka via A Hunger Artist
might result in a misunderstanding of his works
and style, much as Metamorphosis
has become a defining work, mainly for those who
do not read more of Kafka’s works.
Josephine the Singer
(Spring 1924)
My favorite work by
Kafka, Josephine the Singer, or the Mouse
Folk, an exploration of how artists
relate to society. The story is told by a
spectator, one of the mice living alongside
Josephine. Presenting the reader with multiple
points of view, the narrator demonstrates some
confusion as to the allure of Josephine’s
singing — and her personality. Is Josephine a
gifted singer? Is she merely self-absorbed? The
narrator is not sure.
Among
intimates we admit freely to one another
that Josephine’s singing, as singing, is
nothing out of the ordinary.
Is it in
fact singing at all? Although we are
unmusical we have a tradition of singing; in
the old days our people did sing; this is
mentioned in legends and some songs have
actually survived, which, it is true, no one
can now sing. Thus we have an inkling of
what singing is, and Josephine’s art does
not really correspond to it.
Josephine must have
some special quality, or the narrator would not
be compelled to tell her story. If she is not a
talented singer and offers no major benefit to
the other mice, there must be something more to
Josephine’s position within the society. The
reader must assume the narrator is not being
completely honest — with either himself or the
reader.
What drives
people to make such exertions for
Josephine’s sake? This is no easier to
answer than the first question about
Josephine's singing, with which it is
closely connected. Once could eliminate that
and combine them both in the second
question, it it were possible to assert that
because of her singing our people are
unconditionally devoted to Josephine. But
this is simply not the case; unconditional
devotion is hardly known among us….
Why do the other
mice do as Josephine demands? There is a
devotion to her, which the reader quickly
recognizes. Is Kafka commenting upon society’s
view of art and its value? Artists are often
viewed as emotionally frail, almost childlike.
They are also considered self-absorbed.
So the
people look after Josephine much as a father
takes into his care a child whose little
hand — one cannot tell whether in appeal or
command — is stretched out to him….
Josephine…
thinks just the opposite, she believes it is
she who protects the people. When we are in
a bad way politically or economically, her
singing is supposed to save us, nothing less
than that, and if it does not drive away the
evil, at least gives us the strength to dear
it.
One of the
interesting traits of Josephine is her constant
demand to be excused from labor. This view
reflects that of many people toward artists:
artistic pursuits are not truly work — nothing
of value is produced. One must wonder if this
somehow relates to Kafka and his inability to
work during the last years of his life.
For a long
time back, perhaps since the very beginning
of her artistic career, Josephine has been
fighting for exemption from all daily work
on account of her singing; she should be
relieved of all responsibility for earning
her daily bread and being involved in the
general struggle for existence, which —
apparently — should be transferred on her
behalf to the people as a whole.
The narrator does
defend Josephine, remarking that given the
opportunity she would not actually avoid work.
After all, the reader is told, she is a mouse
and all mice must work in order to survive.
Therefore one must wonder why Josephine demands
to be freed of labor — even though she would not
cease performing her duties. It is likely
Josephine is practicing the fine art of public
relations: she is marketing herself as someone
special.
The story ends with
the narrator telling the reader Josephine has
vanished. In the past, she has run away, but she
has been gone longer than normal — two entire
days. One must wonder if she has met misfortune.
Curiously, the narrator attempts to convince the
reader Josephine will eventually fade from
memory, in part because there are no mouse
historians. Yet, historian is exactly the role
assumed by the narrator. Will Josephine be
missed by the other mice?
The
Burrow (Der
Bau, Written 1924)
One of the last
works by Franz Kafka, The Burrow
reveals the secret life of a mole-like creature.
I find this story one of Kafka’s best works. The
quality of the story reflects how closely the
author related to the creature-narrator of his
tale. Considering Kafka’s strong desire to
isolate himself from others, living alone with
his work, it is easy to recognize the narrator
is none other than Kafka; he makes no attempt to
hide this parallel.
The most
wonderful thing about my burrow is the
silence. At any minute it may be broken… but
for now I can stroll through its passages
and hear nothing except the stirring of some
tiny creatures which I quickly silence with
my jaws.
Assuming we can
compare the burrow in which the creature lives
to Kafka’s vision of the perfect workplace, we
learn Kafka views whatever is just outside of
the fortress as a threat. The Burrow’s
narrator is paranoid, as is the author. Kafka
was a hypochondriac with a variety of mental
quirks; this creature mirrors his creator.
Living in a constant state of fear, the narrator
eventually determines it is easier to surrender
to an unseen predator than to continue an
anxious existence. The narrator foresees being
torn apart and tortured by the unknown predator.
As the story ends, however, we are not certain
of the creature’s fate — and neither is the
creature.
