Kafka the Man

The stars were blinking. An aeroplane, viewed from the dimly lit sitting room of my flat on Singapore’s East Coast, descended gracefully to Changi Airport. I was at peace with myself but looked intently at The Trial by Franz Kafka. As often before, I had difficulty in reconciling the man with the writer. For just a moment I closed my eyes. When I opened them, Theophil was sitting on a chair facing mine. Nowadays, when he revealed himself to me, he usually assumed the form of Peppi: my late father’s bosom pal, who befriended me after I had stumbled into his antiques shop in London. On other occasions, Theophil adopted his medieval appearance of Satan or Asmodeus – the guise known in the three monotheistic religions. I had got used to this image for years and did not feel threatened by it. Currently, he appeared in an unfamiliar image. ...

“Franz Kafka was born on July 3rd, 1883,” I narrated. “His father, Hermann, was a self- made businessman, who moved to Prague from the provinces. His mother, Julie Löwy, helped her husband out in the shop he founded.” “Let us go more slowly, Peter’le. To understand a person, we have to consider his (or her) childhood. Who shapes it?” “That person’s environment. In turn, this depends on the nature of the parents and other circumstances. A child growing up in a diffused environment, such as an unhappy home, often has a bad start. People like Chaplin, who rose to prominence although their childhood was ghastly, are the exception.” ...

Theophil continued to project his Dr. Freud’s image. Initially, I was surprised. It then dawned on me that, prior to our assessment of Kafka’s teens and advanced studies, we had to consider what this period usually meant in a young man’s life. “Well, why don’t you start the ball rolling, Maestro. I do believe that presently Dr. Freud is entitled to have his say.” “He does,” agreed Theophil. “In many ways, this period is Sturm und Drang. A primary school leaver is still an unformed child. During his secondary school years, he (or she) experiences puberty. His (or her) sexual urges become pronounced. All the same, he (or she) remains dependent on parents or guardians. As yet, he (or she) is not considered ready to embark on a career. In effect, he (or she) metamorphoses into a young adult. The umbilical cord becomes tenuous. In the Western World, he (or she) frequently remains a dependant even during the years of tertiary education. But, when entering a university or a college, he (or she) begins to form an independent outlook.” ...

“Well, Peter’le, we have discussed Kafka’s adolescence,” observed Theophil and reverted to his Peppi image. “We now ought to cover his years of employment. Usually – as already pointed out – an individual’s life is divided into four distinct phases. But how about Kafka?” “Kafka died when he was forty-one years old. It is, therefore, difficult to draw a clear line between his years of employment and his years of retirement. Throughout both periods, his main occupation was writing. His two masterpieces, The Metamorphosis and The Trial were written during his years of employment. So was In the Penal Colony. The Castle, his aphorisms and some other works were composed during his short-lived retirement, when he was a very sick man. ...

“It will be recalled that Kafka had his first haemorrhage on 11 August 1917. He referred to it in letters to Felice, Ottla and Max Brod. In the last he expresses a mixed feeling of having been punished, of facing doom and of relief. In none of these letters does he express surprise or bitterness. It sounds almost as if he had anticipated it. In a diary entry of 2 August 1914, in which he mentioned that Germany had declared war on Russia, he also said: ‘I doubt I shall reach the age of 40.’ ‘The Judgment’ suggest that he might have head his first admonition of death as early as 1912.” ...

“Well, Peter’le. We have by now assessed Kafka the Man. Let us try to reach some common sense conclusions about the man and the author,” suggested Theophil, and assumed his Peppi guise. “Isn’t Descartes a more suitable image?” “I don’t think so Peterle. First, we now have to revert to the reactions of a common reader or ordinary yet well-read member of society. Peppi is the right man. Secondly, you relate to my Peppi image. When you see him, you recall your late friend, Peppi Stölzl, to whom you transferred your deep love for your late father. His very presence will aid you to remain detached, analytical and yet warm and kindly. Well, let us start by looking at Kafka posthumous fame. Don’t you think that his decision to constitute Max Brod his literary executor tells us a great deal about Franz Kafka, the man?” ...