As 2010 ended, I spent five glorious hours reading Kafka’s diaries aboard a flight from Singapore; so 2011 shall begin in the same immersion. I move slowly through the diaries, drawing them out with a parallel reading of the short stories. Inevitably, my attention will drift into the letters and notebooks, unable to remain within any boundary once Kafka’s voice has entered the bloodstream.
It is almost unbearable, exquisitely so, to inhabit Kafka’s world as he struggles to conceive of his stories. He writes: “My job is unbearable to me because it conflicts with my only desire and my only calling, which is literature. Since I am nothing but literature and can and want to be nothing else, my job will never take possession of me, it may, however shatter me completely, and this is by no means a remote possibility.”
Is there another artist who could make such a claim, to be nothing but literature and for the reader to understand, to agree without hesitation? In Kafka, it is not a boast: it is an existential truth, something he feels in every sinew, in every breath.
>Happy New Year, Anthony, and what an interesting start you have planned reading-wise! It's been a while since I've read any Kafka, but I'd like to think I can make some more time for him at some point during the year. Cheers!
>What an interesting perspective. I wonder to what extent our occupations define us but never to the extent that an occupation outside of one might be unbearable. Looking forward to more of your Kafka journey since like Richard it has been a while since I read him. Happy New Year!
>Richard: Thank you and Happy New Year to you. I read some Kafka in my twenties but am getting so much from his diaries, reading them in parallel to his short stories is exquisite.
>Frances: Happy New Year! Beckett is the only other artist I cannot imagine occupying his time with anything but literature. Even Joyce had alternatives I suspect. In my own case, I have never, perhaps I should optimistically say yet, discovered a vocation. My occupation is rewarding on multiple levels, but not to the extent of Kafka's devotion.
>That's a wonderful quote. I feel the same way at times.