Franz did not publish much during his lifetime.
He became a literary legend posthumously, after the second world hemorrhage, the locus in Europe.
Franz Kafka was born in 1883 as a Czech citizen, a little bit like a citizen between a rock and a hard place. "Between the sword and the wall" as the Spaniards say. A tough place to be: wedged between a bellicose France and Germany, and a historically aggressive Russia. Czechs need to choose their friends wisely, and deal with their enemies smartly, too. Enough to make people feel like they are on trial for unknown reasons, or perhaps feel like their humanity was at stake, or questioned.
Their existential value.
Kafka wrote about those things. Was he crazy? Or was he dealing with some real issues?
I think that being a Czech in the late 1800s would be psychologically troublesome.
Poor young Kafka dealt with it. He missed out on World War II because tuberculosis killed him before all that. But as a guy and a citizen of those caught in the middle, perhaps he saw the writing on the wall.
Crazy guy.
Maybe not so much.
A gifted writer, a brilliant thinker, a normal victim of his circumstances, perhaps.
I don't know. A prophet. A sage. A crackpot. A weirdo.
He died in 1924.
God bless his soul; enjoy his writings. I think they say some things that we should hear.
He became a literary legend posthumously, after the second world hemorrhage, the locus in Europe.
Franz Kafka was born in 1883 as a Czech citizen, a little bit like a citizen between a rock and a hard place. "Between the sword and the wall" as the Spaniards say. A tough place to be: wedged between a bellicose France and Germany, and a historically aggressive Russia. Czechs need to choose their friends wisely, and deal with their enemies smartly, too. Enough to make people feel like they are on trial for unknown reasons, or perhaps feel like their humanity was at stake, or questioned.
Their existential value.
Kafka wrote about those things. Was he crazy? Or was he dealing with some real issues?
I think that being a Czech in the late 1800s would be psychologically troublesome.
Poor young Kafka dealt with it. He missed out on World War II because tuberculosis killed him before all that. But as a guy and a citizen of those caught in the middle, perhaps he saw the writing on the wall.
Crazy guy.
Maybe not so much.
A gifted writer, a brilliant thinker, a normal victim of his circumstances, perhaps.
I don't know. A prophet. A sage. A crackpot. A weirdo.
He died in 1924.
God bless his soul; enjoy his writings. I think they say some things that we should hear.
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