To: K-list
Recieved: 2001/06/13 19:37
Subject: [K-list] Kafka, Erlebnisdichter, writing the roach from the heart
From: Murrkis

Kafka was a fascinatingly complex Kerl, as we all are.

I dig him partly because I know his part of the world, the glory of a past
outshining the present, the injustice of this, the irrationality, the
despair. Cruelty? Yes, but cloaked beneath the shroud of respectability.

Vienna went the route of Disney, shuffling the shadow under. Prague
retained full bloodedness longer, finally losing it in the 1990s. Budapest,
the ugly sibling, devastated more lastingly by the blast of world wars,
special in its linguistic separation, has had a rockier go of westernizing.
Nonetheless...

But Kafka missed all of this but the first world war.

Kafka wrote his life, this is the meaning of Erlebnisdichter. This is what
makes the Metamorphosis so interesting. Sylvia, I am still reading the
whole thing, and still don't know what. :)

You inspired me to go looking for my copy of this book, also in German. I
didn't find it... but I did find the following short writing by Kafka. (The
German, for those of you interested, follows at the very bottom of this
post.)

-A Commentary-

It was very early in the morning, the streets clean and empty, I was going
to the railway station. When I compared a tower clock with my pocket watch
I saw that it was already much later than I had thought, I really had to
hurry, the fright cause by this discovery made me uncertain of the way, I
was still unfamiliar with this city, fortunately there was a policeman
nearby, I ran to him and asked him breathlessly for the way. He smiled and
said: "You want to know the way from -me-?" "Yes," I said, "since I can't
find it myself." "Give it up, give it up," he said and turned aside with a
sweeping gesture like people who want to be alone with their laughter.

cw:
>> so, you see, humans aren't that superior ..
>> have a close encounter with a cockroach
>> and you will learn all of the survival and
>> longevity skills you would ever need ..

sylvia:
> reminds me of Kafka's - Metamorphosis
>read it in german [!] years + years back...
>
>"I woke up one morning and discovered I was a.... " a WHAT ???? !!!!
>
>read the whole thing without really knowing what ! :)

Und jetzt: auf Deutsch...

-Ein Kommentar-

Es war sehr frueh am Morgen, die Strassen rein und leer, ich ging zum
Bahnhof. Als ich eine Turmuhr mit meiner Uhr verglich, sah ich, dass es
schon viel spaeter war, als ich geglaubt hatte, ich musste mich sehr
beeilen, der Schrecken ueber diese Entdeckung liess mich im Weg unsicher
werden, ich kannte mich in dieser Stadt noch nicht sehr gut aus,
gluecklicherweise war ein Schutzmann in der Naehe, ich lief zu ihm und
fragte ihn atemlos nach dem Weg. Er laechelte und sagte: "Von mir willst du
den Weg erfahren?" "Ja", sagte ich, "da ich ihn selbst nicht finden kann."
"Gibs auf, gibs auf", sagte er und wandte sich mit einem grossen Schwunge
ab, so wie Leute, die mit ihrem Lachen allein sein wollen.

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