Letter to the father (1919)

Illuminating; suspiciously so in that surely not everything can be reduced to Kafka's childhood and relationship with his father (or possibly it can, but it's always difficult to know how much of the present you're injecting into the past; Kafka wouldn't be an exception). It's all here: dread, authority, judgment, isolation, impotence, meaninglessness. It's one-sided, of course, sad, and with a vague childish petulance--understandable, if self-defeating, assuming Kafka's account is accurate. I feel like his untalented twin after reading it. Recommended if you like his work. ( )

This review refers to the piper verlag, München (1960) edition with an afterword by W. Emrich.
Can the key to Kafka’s oeuvre be found in his lifelong struggle with the father, as has frequently been claimed, or the reverse: can the father complex be explained through K’s writing? W. Emrich chooses the latter. He cites supporting evidence for either position. But perhaps neither is correct. Or, better, there is some truth in either and one should rather see a dialectic between K the writer and K as he sees himself in his relationship to the father?
Some quotes:
S.12: „ .. Tyrannen, deren Recht auf ihrer Person, nicht auf dem Denken begründet ist.“
S. 32: „Geiz ist ja eines der verläßlichsten Anzeichen tiefen Unglücklichseins.“
S. 58: „ …, daß ich im Schreiben … kleine Selbständigkeitsversuche, Fluchtversuche mit allerkleinstem Erfolg gemacht. … es besteht mein Leben darin, über ihnen zu wachen, keine Gefahr, die ich abwehren kann, ja keine Möglichkeit einer solchen Gefahr an sie herankommen zu lassen.“ – War das der Grund, dass er, ein Jahr später, mit Milena brechen musste? (XI-11) ( )

Une névrose incroyable, et analysée dans ses moindres détails. Cette lettre n'a jamais été envoyée...

Est ce cela qui a contribué à faire de Franz Kafka un génie de l'écriture ? ( )

http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carta_ao_pai

http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Kafka ( )

For some reason I have yet to figure out, this short book is my favorite one by Kafka. Maybe because there are certain parallels to my relationship with my father. I have read it several times and I will read it again. ( )