Kafka and Stuff
The first work of Kafka that I read was In der Strafkolonie (In the Penal Colony), in a Romanian translation. I was a student at the Polytechnics and one day, as I was visiting a schoolmate, I saw on his desk a literary magazine. I started to browse the magazine, and Kafka's story was in it, together with a pretty long essay about the author. I began reading the essay, and my colleague observed that I should start directly with the work of Kafka, rather than with an essay on him. He was by all means right: Zweifellosigkeit, as the Prague Master would undoubtedly have said (maybe I should explain the word, in a future post, all in good time).
There is an essay about Kafka in NY Times, very informative. I'd give here a paragraph from it (though I wouldn't consider, this time, the opinion as irrefutably zweifelsfrei):
New translations will appear. (The translations into English of Kafka’s writings by the Scottish couple Willa and Edwin Muir, to which a generation is deeply indebted, have been considered old-fashioned and not definitive for some time now — too elegant and smoothly readable, too much arising from a Kierkegaardian Calvinism and not enough from a Talmudic Judaism.) Massive biographies might at last be completed. For we must know Kafka. It is not enough to know, to live, to be intimate with the Kafkaesque.
But you should read the whole enchilada:
(German and Nordic Literature)
Labels: Kafka
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