Franz Kafka, 1910

It would be difficult to find a more suitable word to characterize modern people’s cosmic predicament than “Kafkaesque”. The etymology of the word isn’t hard to decipher, which is untrue of the worlds created by the man immortalized by the adjective. Like many great artists, Kafka’s work was largely undiscovered until after his death. His close friend, Max Brod, was chiefly responsible for advocating Kafka’s work before and after the writer’s death. Against Kafka’s wishes, Brod published some of his most notable work, including The Trial and The Castle, after the writer’s death. The collection of posthumously published works has helped to firmly place Franz Kafka in a uniquely prominent place in modern culture. The anxieties and the surreal struggles depicted in Kafka’s stories hold a unique appeal to modern audiences, adequately explaining the common usage of “Kafkaesque” when discussing our shared experience of ordinary horrors.

Franz Kafka was born into a middle-class Jewish family in Prague on July 3, 1888. The German-speaking Bohemian novelist became the eldest son after the death of his two older brothers, who died in their infancy. This fact, along with Kafka’s pious, melancholic, and physically unremarkable disposition, put him at odds with his boisterous and domineering father. Hermann Kafka – Franz’s father – was born to a butcher of a village in southern Bohemia and had made his way up to Prague and up the social hierarchy. Hermann successfully established a business in Prague and married a well-educated woman. A physically and socially imposing man, Hermann’s domineering and brusque manner allowed him to become a successful man in his own estimation. No less was expected of Franz himself, being the eldest son. His father’s clear expectations and indiscreet disappointment had a significant effect on the writer’s work and life. Kafka’s relationship with his father, both literal and metaphorical, was reflected in much of his work, including the semi-autobiographical Letter to his Father.

“There was I, skinny, weakly, slight; you strong, tall, broad. Even inside the hut I felt a miserable specimen, and what’s more, not only in your eyes but in the eyes of the whole world, for you were for me the measure of all things.” 

This perspective of his father naturally affected the direction of his life and career. At 14 years old, he was enrolled in a prestigious secondary school chosen by his father, and later in the Deutsche Karl-Ferdinands-Universität of Prague. Initially studying chemistry, Kafka transitioned into law after two weeks at the behest of his father, who thought law would provide more ample opportunities. The slight amount of independence afforded to him allowed Kafka to explore new movements and ideas, joining a student club that organized literary events. During the first year of his studies, Kafka met his close friend and literary executor, Max Brod. The pair would often hold discussions and socialize with other creatives in some of Prague’s many cafes, including the famous Cafe Louvre. 

Kafka received his doctorate in 1906, and took up regular employment with an insurance company in 1907. His job’s restrictive schedule and stringent requirements didn’t allow Kafka to continue his writing, and contributed to Kafka’s misery. Shortly after, Kafka found another job at the Worker’s Accident Insurance Institute for the Kingdom of Bohemia. Kafka’s new employment schedule was more amenable to his writing, and he was quickly promoted within the company. Although he despised his repetitive office routine, Kafka remained there until his tuberculosis diagnosis in 1917 forced him to take intermittent sick leaves, and eventually retire with a pension in 1922. This allowed Kafka to devote himself entirely to his writing. 

Kafka moved to Berlin in 1923 for that reason, and met a young Jewish socialist, Dora Dymant, later that year. Kafka’s health continued to decline, and he later succumbed to his illness in a small clinic near Vienna; after a brief stay in Prague accompanied by Dymant. Shortly before his death, Kafka had written Max Brod two small notes providing instructions to destroy the remaining manuscripts of his works. Brod promptly disobeyed, publishing many of his unfinished and unpublished works. Brod did so with good conscience, reasoning that if his close friend had truly wanted his works destroyed, he would have asked someone else to do so.

Franz Kafka memorial in Prague, by Jaroslav Róna

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Kafka’s mix of the fantastical and the quotidian, reflecting the deep-seated anxieties and fear regarding our collective and individual struggle against the unseen and insurmountable force that is history, holds appeal to many different people for many different reasons. Some emphasize the social criticisms of the totalitarian and the bureaucratic. Some see his novels as allegories for divine grace, or as a reflection of the guilt and despair inherent in the nature of existence. Others view Kafka’s pathological relationship with his father as the main driving force of his stories, which could be argued to be representative of the relationship many modern people hold with culture. Regardless of individual interpretation, it’s clear that his work is profoundly impactful to the individuals who read it, and even to those who don’t, as by the 1960s, his work’s influence reached global proportions and eventually permeated popular culture. 

Written by: David Dorazco