Kafka liked to have his watch an hour and a half fast. Felice kept setting it right. Nonetheless for five years they almost married. He made a list of arguments for and against marriage, including inability to bear the assault of his own life (for) and the sight of the nightshirts laid out on his parents’ beds at 10.30 (against). Haemorrhage saved him. When advised not to speak by doctors in the sanatorium, he left glass sentences all over the floor. Felice, says one of them, had too much nakedness left in her.
I love when she talks about Kafka. It’s always such a pleasure to read what one of your favorite writers has to say about another of your favorites.
Agreed, it doesn’t get much better than that. And that last sentence is just wonderful.