Saturday, December 23, 2006


Kafka on the floor

I devoted some of my time yesterday to reading Franz Kafka's The Man Who Disappeared. It was thoroughly terrible.

For those who haven't read it (all of you, hopefully) it is an "unfinished" work: the story runs for about 190 pages, there is a further 10 pages or so, composed of story fragments, then the whole debacle comes to a halt.

The worst thing was, what little Kafka had managed to write wasn't especially good; even after his mastery of prose had been gushed over in the introduction by whichever learned beard translated the wretched thing.

I was so full of ire by the time I'd finished that it was completely beyond me to comprehend how Kafka achieved any kind of recognition, other than such as befits a lazy scoundrel. Apparently, his other two novels remain unfinished as well.

I say this now: Kafka was an ignoble hack.

If anyone feels I am being unfair, feel free to click the comment button and tell me why Kafka was so ace. Go on.


My early New Year's resolution is that I will be writing a stinging letter to Penguin, demanding to know how they think they can justify sticking a price tag of 8.99 on this book.

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