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Ameerika / Protsess / Loss
- GenresClassics
656 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1987
17 people are currently reading
45 people want to read
About the author
Franz Kafka
3,254 books38.9k followersFranz Kafka was a German-speaking writer from Prague whose work became one of the foundations of modern literature, even though he published only a small part of his writing during his lifetime. Born into a middle-class Jewish family in Prague, then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Kafka grew up amid German, Czech, and Jewish cultural influences that shaped his sense of displacement and linguistic precision. His difficult relationship with his authoritarian father left a lasting mark, fostering feelings of guilt, anxiety, and inadequacy that became central themes in his fiction and personal writings.
Kafka studied law at the German University in Prague, earning a doctorate in 1906. He chose law for practical reasons rather than personal inclination, a compromise that troubled him throughout his life. After university, he worked for several insurance institutions, most notably the Workers Accident Insurance Institute for the Kingdom of Bohemia. His duties included assessing industrial accidents and drafting legal reports, work he carried out competently and responsibly. Nevertheless, Kafka regarded his professional life as an obstacle to his true vocation, and most of his writing was done at night or during periods of illness and leave. Kafka began publishing short prose pieces in his early adulthood, later collected in volumes such as Contemplation and A Country Doctor. These works attracted little attention at the time but already displayed the hallmarks of his mature style, including precise language, emotional restraint, and the application of calm logic to deeply unsettling situations. His major novels The Trial, The Castle, and Amerika were left unfinished and unpublished during his lifetime. They depict protagonists trapped within opaque systems of authority, facing accusations, rules, or hierarchies that remain unexplained and unreachable. Themes of alienation, guilt, bureaucracy, law, and punishment run throughout Kafka’s work. His characters often respond to absurd or terrifying circumstances with obedience or resignation, reflecting his own conflicted relationship with authority and obligation. Kafka’s prose avoids overt symbolism, yet his narratives function as powerful metaphors through structure, repetition, and tone. Ordinary environments gradually become nightmarish without losing their internal coherence. Kafka’s personal life was marked by emotional conflict, chronic self-doubt, and recurring illness. He formed intense but troubled romantic relationships, including engagements that he repeatedly broke off, fearing that marriage would interfere with his writing. His extensive correspondence and diaries reveal a relentless self-critic, deeply concerned with morality, spirituality, and the demands of artistic integrity. In his later years, Kafka’s health deteriorated due to tuberculosis, forcing him to withdraw from work and spend long periods in sanatoriums. Despite his illness, he continued writing when possible. He died young, leaving behind a large body of unpublished manuscripts. Before his death, he instructed his close friend Max Brod to destroy all of his remaining work. Brod ignored this request and instead edited and published Kafka’s novels, stories, and diaries, ensuring his posthumous reputation.
The publication of Kafka’s work after his death established him as one of the most influential writers of the twentieth century. The term Kafkaesque entered common usage to describe situations marked by oppressive bureaucracy, absurd logic, and existential anxiety. His writing has been interpreted through existential, religious, psychological, and political perspectives, though Kafka himself resisted definitive meanings. His enduring power lies in his ability to articulate modern anxiety with clarity and restraint.
Kafka studied law at the German University in Prague, earning a doctorate in 1906. He chose law for practical reasons rather than personal inclination, a compromise that troubled him throughout his life. After university, he worked for several insurance institutions, most notably the Workers Accident Insurance Institute for the Kingdom of Bohemia. His duties included assessing industrial accidents and drafting legal reports, work he carried out competently and responsibly. Nevertheless, Kafka regarded his professional life as an obstacle to his true vocation, and most of his writing was done at night or during periods of illness and leave. Kafka began publishing short prose pieces in his early adulthood, later collected in volumes such as Contemplation and A Country Doctor. These works attracted little attention at the time but already displayed the hallmarks of his mature style, including precise language, emotional restraint, and the application of calm logic to deeply unsettling situations. His major novels The Trial, The Castle, and Amerika were left unfinished and unpublished during his lifetime. They depict protagonists trapped within opaque systems of authority, facing accusations, rules, or hierarchies that remain unexplained and unreachable. Themes of alienation, guilt, bureaucracy, law, and punishment run throughout Kafka’s work. His characters often respond to absurd or terrifying circumstances with obedience or resignation, reflecting his own conflicted relationship with authority and obligation. Kafka’s prose avoids overt symbolism, yet his narratives function as powerful metaphors through structure, repetition, and tone. Ordinary environments gradually become nightmarish without losing their internal coherence. Kafka’s personal life was marked by emotional conflict, chronic self-doubt, and recurring illness. He formed intense but troubled romantic relationships, including engagements that he repeatedly broke off, fearing that marriage would interfere with his writing. His extensive correspondence and diaries reveal a relentless self-critic, deeply concerned with morality, spirituality, and the demands of artistic integrity. In his later years, Kafka’s health deteriorated due to tuberculosis, forcing him to withdraw from work and spend long periods in sanatoriums. Despite his illness, he continued writing when possible. He died young, leaving behind a large body of unpublished manuscripts. Before his death, he instructed his close friend Max Brod to destroy all of his remaining work. Brod ignored this request and instead edited and published Kafka’s novels, stories, and diaries, ensuring his posthumous reputation.
The publication of Kafka’s work after his death established him as one of the most influential writers of the twentieth century. The term Kafkaesque entered common usage to describe situations marked by oppressive bureaucracy, absurd logic, and existential anxiety. His writing has been interpreted through existential, religious, psychological, and political perspectives, though Kafka himself resisted definitive meanings. His enduring power lies in his ability to articulate modern anxiety with clarity and restraint.
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
December 30, 2017
Tee või tina, ei olnud huvitav. Justkui oleks hea kirjanik, aga halb on lugeda ja igav on ka. Kõik inimesed räägivad nagu ametnikud alates tüdrukutirtsudest lõpetades vanaättidega. Mitte mingit vahet ei ole kes räägib, jutt on ikka ühesugune. Ka õhustik on selline steriilne, naljalt mingit pilti silme ette ei kerki. Minu meelest on midagi väärt vaid Protsess, kus üleüldisel kantseliidil on mingi põhjendus. Mul jäi tunne, et Kafka inimesed pole mitte sellepärast nagu nukud, et ta püüdis neid nii kujutada, vaid et ta lihtsalt ei osanud teisiti.
Mati Sirkeli järelsõna ise on eepiliselt segane näide sellest, kuidas järelsõna ei tohi kirjutada
Mati Sirkeli järelsõna ise on eepiliselt segane näide sellest, kuidas järelsõna ei tohi kirjutada
January 29, 2022
Küllap olen kunagi proovinud Kafkat lugeda, aga ei mäleta et oleks varem lõpetanud raamatu. Nüüd siis õige aeg käes. Kafka on suurepärane ning pakub palju ruumi enesearenguks. Näiteks sellest, et millegi saavutamisel ei saa passiivseks jääda, tuleb järjekindlalt millegi nimel tegutsda. Samas, kui tegutsedes ei ole tulemused ikkagi kuidagi saavutatavad. Seda teist poolt siis optimistina tuleks teatud reservatsiooniga võtta.
...."Sinuga võin ma avameelselt rääkida."- "Ära peta ennast," ütles vaimulik. "Mis suhtes võiksin ma ennast petta?" küsis K. "Sa petad ennast kohtu suhtes," ütles vaimulik. "Seaduse seletuskirjades on sellest enesepetmisest niisugune lugu: Seaduse ees seisab valvur. Selle valvuri juurde tuleb mees maalt ja palub, et teda Seaduse juurde sisse lastaks. Kuid valvur ütleb, et ta ei saa teda praegu sisse lubada. Mees mõtleb järele ja küsib, kas ta tohiks siis ehk hiljem sisse pääseda. "Võib-olla küll," ütleb valvur, "aga praegu mitte." Kuna uks Seaduse juurde on lahti nagu alati ja valvur astub kõrvale, kummardub mees, et üle ukse sisse vaadata. Kui valvur seda märkab, hakkab ta naerma ja ütle: "Kui see sind nii väga ahvatleb, eks katsu siis minu keelust hoolimata sisse minna. Aga pea meeles: ma olen vägev. Ja ma olen ainult kõige alam valvur. Iga järgmise saali uksel on valvur, vägevam kui eelmine. Juba kolmanda pilku ei suuda enam minagi taluda." Mees maalt pole niisuguseid raskusi teadnud oodata, Seaduse juurde peaks ometi igaüks ja alati pääsema, mõtleb tema, aga kui ta nüüd karvakasukas valvurit lähemalt silmitseb, tema suurt, teravat nina, tema pikka, hõredat, musta tatarlasehabet, otsustab ta siiski parem oodata, kuna ta saab loa sisse minna. Valvur annab talle väikse jalapingi ja laseb tal ukse kõrval istuda. Seal istub ta päevi ja aastaid. Ta teeb alatasa katset sisse pääseda ja tüütab valvurit oma palvetega. Valvur korraldab talle tihti väikesi ülekuulamisi, pärib tema kodu ja paljude muude asjade järele, kuid need on osavõtmatud küsimused, nagu neid suured isandad esitavad, ja lõpuks ütleb ta mehele ikka, et ta ei või teda veel sisse lasta. Mees, kes on sellele reisile väga palju kaasa võtnud, paneb kõik mängu, olgu see nii väärtuslik tahes, et valvurit ära osta. See võtab küll kõik vastu, kuid ütleb sealjuures: "Ma võtan ainult selleks, et sa ei mõtleks, et sa oled midagi tegemata jätnud." Paljude aastate jooksul silmitseb mees valvurit peaaegu vahetpidamata. Ta unustab teised valvurid ja see esimene näib talle ainsa takistusena teel Seaduse juurde. Esimestel aastatel neab ta valjusti seda õnnetut juhust, hiljem, kui ta vanaks jääb, pomiseb ta veel ainult omaette. Ta muutub lapsikuks, ja kuna ta valvurit aastate kaupa uurides on õppinud tundma isegi kirpe tema kasukakraes, siis palub ta ka kirpe, et need aitaksid tal valvuri meelt muuta. Lõpuks jääb ta silmanägemine nõrgaks ja ta ei tea, kas tema ümber läheb tõesti hämaramaks või petavad teda silmad. Küll aga näeb ta nüüd pimeduses sära, mida Seaduse ustest lakkamatult hoovab. Nüüd ei jää tal enam kaua elada. Enne surma koonduvad kogu selle pika aja kogemused tema peas üheainsaks küsimuseks, mida ta pole seni veel valvurile esitanud. Ta viipab valvurit käega, sest ta ei suuda oma kangestuvat keha enam maast üles upitada. Valvur peab tema kohale alla kummarduma, sest nende suurusevahe on muutunud kõvasti mehe kahjuks. "Mis sa siis nüüd veel teada tahad?" küsib valvur, "sa oled täitmatu." - "Kõik püüavad ju Seaduse poole," ütleb mees, "millest see tuleb, et nii pika aja jooksul ei ole siit keegi peale minu sisselaskmist nõudnud?" Valvur saab aru, et mehe lõpp on ligi, ja et veel tema kstuva kuulmiseni jõuda, möirgab ta talle kõrva: "Siit ei võinud keegi teine sisse pääseda, sest see sissepääs oli määratud ainult sinu jaoks. Ma lähen nüüd ja panen ta kinni."
...."Sinuga võin ma avameelselt rääkida."- "Ära peta ennast," ütles vaimulik. "Mis suhtes võiksin ma ennast petta?" küsis K. "Sa petad ennast kohtu suhtes," ütles vaimulik. "Seaduse seletuskirjades on sellest enesepetmisest niisugune lugu: Seaduse ees seisab valvur. Selle valvuri juurde tuleb mees maalt ja palub, et teda Seaduse juurde sisse lastaks. Kuid valvur ütleb, et ta ei saa teda praegu sisse lubada. Mees mõtleb järele ja küsib, kas ta tohiks siis ehk hiljem sisse pääseda. "Võib-olla küll," ütleb valvur, "aga praegu mitte." Kuna uks Seaduse juurde on lahti nagu alati ja valvur astub kõrvale, kummardub mees, et üle ukse sisse vaadata. Kui valvur seda märkab, hakkab ta naerma ja ütle: "Kui see sind nii väga ahvatleb, eks katsu siis minu keelust hoolimata sisse minna. Aga pea meeles: ma olen vägev. Ja ma olen ainult kõige alam valvur. Iga järgmise saali uksel on valvur, vägevam kui eelmine. Juba kolmanda pilku ei suuda enam minagi taluda." Mees maalt pole niisuguseid raskusi teadnud oodata, Seaduse juurde peaks ometi igaüks ja alati pääsema, mõtleb tema, aga kui ta nüüd karvakasukas valvurit lähemalt silmitseb, tema suurt, teravat nina, tema pikka, hõredat, musta tatarlasehabet, otsustab ta siiski parem oodata, kuna ta saab loa sisse minna. Valvur annab talle väikse jalapingi ja laseb tal ukse kõrval istuda. Seal istub ta päevi ja aastaid. Ta teeb alatasa katset sisse pääseda ja tüütab valvurit oma palvetega. Valvur korraldab talle tihti väikesi ülekuulamisi, pärib tema kodu ja paljude muude asjade järele, kuid need on osavõtmatud küsimused, nagu neid suured isandad esitavad, ja lõpuks ütleb ta mehele ikka, et ta ei või teda veel sisse lasta. Mees, kes on sellele reisile väga palju kaasa võtnud, paneb kõik mängu, olgu see nii väärtuslik tahes, et valvurit ära osta. See võtab küll kõik vastu, kuid ütleb sealjuures: "Ma võtan ainult selleks, et sa ei mõtleks, et sa oled midagi tegemata jätnud." Paljude aastate jooksul silmitseb mees valvurit peaaegu vahetpidamata. Ta unustab teised valvurid ja see esimene näib talle ainsa takistusena teel Seaduse juurde. Esimestel aastatel neab ta valjusti seda õnnetut juhust, hiljem, kui ta vanaks jääb, pomiseb ta veel ainult omaette. Ta muutub lapsikuks, ja kuna ta valvurit aastate kaupa uurides on õppinud tundma isegi kirpe tema kasukakraes, siis palub ta ka kirpe, et need aitaksid tal valvuri meelt muuta. Lõpuks jääb ta silmanägemine nõrgaks ja ta ei tea, kas tema ümber läheb tõesti hämaramaks või petavad teda silmad. Küll aga näeb ta nüüd pimeduses sära, mida Seaduse ustest lakkamatult hoovab. Nüüd ei jää tal enam kaua elada. Enne surma koonduvad kogu selle pika aja kogemused tema peas üheainsaks küsimuseks, mida ta pole seni veel valvurile esitanud. Ta viipab valvurit käega, sest ta ei suuda oma kangestuvat keha enam maast üles upitada. Valvur peab tema kohale alla kummarduma, sest nende suurusevahe on muutunud kõvasti mehe kahjuks. "Mis sa siis nüüd veel teada tahad?" küsib valvur, "sa oled täitmatu." - "Kõik püüavad ju Seaduse poole," ütleb mees, "millest see tuleb, et nii pika aja jooksul ei ole siit keegi peale minu sisselaskmist nõudnud?" Valvur saab aru, et mehe lõpp on ligi, ja et veel tema kstuva kuulmiseni jõuda, möirgab ta talle kõrva: "Siit ei võinud keegi teine sisse pääseda, sest see sissepääs oli määratud ainult sinu jaoks. Ma lähen nüüd ja panen ta kinni."
dnf
September 13, 2023For now it's a DNF at 215 pages and marking it as 'parked' - I may come back to this in the future. Simply not feeling Kafka at the moment.
February 12, 2016
Quite often a statement stating that we live in a Kafka's style world can be heard. This should make any listener wonder, what is that world that Kafka has described, which can be used as a descriptive example even a hundred years later.
At first look it can be simply seen as a bureaucratic environment where one individual struggles to find it's way through. Where multiple absurd and nonsense obstacles creep out, preventing to achieve even simplest goals. Where literally everybody, starting from a young boy ending up with an elder woman talk in dry office jargon language. And where bureaucratic system produces piles of formal papers, reports, statements, submissions to be stored on the tables of countless officials located in infinite number of rooms in endless corridor labyrinths. Everything is so complicated and bureaucratic conduct takes not months, but years. Despite of the public acknowledgement of this absurdity there is no external power strong enough to even attempt take down the behemoth. So the system flourishes and grows, building layer upon layer more levels of powerless small white-collar employees and produces more documents than before.
Some say the book is boring, full of office jargon and absurdity. Plot advances slowly, nothing interesting seem to happen. Main characters try to fight with the system, but without any apparent success. Moreover, since all three stories are actually unfinished, there is no real end or beginning. No solution seem to be provided.
This is exactly the point! Any such system would indeed be deadly boring. In any such system things indeed will advance in a pace of a snail or better stand still. Any such system would produce huge pile of documents and, if there is any miracle at all, it would be the one that would stop this machinery sinking in the swamp of printed papers. No way this can be interesting. No way this would be anything else than boring.
Surprising was the fact that office jargon, which everybody was claimed to be speaking, was not so annoying at all. It was more or less readable. Even somewhat horrifying came the understanding that such language was indeed the one many use form day to day. That many news articles are actually written the same way. That many politicians or other public figures are already talking like this.
Remembering my last e-mail exchange and phone calls with local civil authorities, that ended up in a dead end with no conclusive statement, I must admit that at least part of this system is already established and working in a full power. In this sense, Kafka's world and his books is not a fiction. It turned out to be a documentary.s
These stories might as well be a mandatory reading material on how to run public services and build up a thin state, nowadays a very popular term. How to fight against meaningless attitude towards individual wellbeing and destiny. Only this way Kafka's world can be truly avoided and the now inevitable documentary reverted back to pure fiction.
At first look it can be simply seen as a bureaucratic environment where one individual struggles to find it's way through. Where multiple absurd and nonsense obstacles creep out, preventing to achieve even simplest goals. Where literally everybody, starting from a young boy ending up with an elder woman talk in dry office jargon language. And where bureaucratic system produces piles of formal papers, reports, statements, submissions to be stored on the tables of countless officials located in infinite number of rooms in endless corridor labyrinths. Everything is so complicated and bureaucratic conduct takes not months, but years. Despite of the public acknowledgement of this absurdity there is no external power strong enough to even attempt take down the behemoth. So the system flourishes and grows, building layer upon layer more levels of powerless small white-collar employees and produces more documents than before.
Some say the book is boring, full of office jargon and absurdity. Plot advances slowly, nothing interesting seem to happen. Main characters try to fight with the system, but without any apparent success. Moreover, since all three stories are actually unfinished, there is no real end or beginning. No solution seem to be provided.
This is exactly the point! Any such system would indeed be deadly boring. In any such system things indeed will advance in a pace of a snail or better stand still. Any such system would produce huge pile of documents and, if there is any miracle at all, it would be the one that would stop this machinery sinking in the swamp of printed papers. No way this can be interesting. No way this would be anything else than boring.
Surprising was the fact that office jargon, which everybody was claimed to be speaking, was not so annoying at all. It was more or less readable. Even somewhat horrifying came the understanding that such language was indeed the one many use form day to day. That many news articles are actually written the same way. That many politicians or other public figures are already talking like this.
Remembering my last e-mail exchange and phone calls with local civil authorities, that ended up in a dead end with no conclusive statement, I must admit that at least part of this system is already established and working in a full power. In this sense, Kafka's world and his books is not a fiction. It turned out to be a documentary.s
These stories might as well be a mandatory reading material on how to run public services and build up a thin state, nowadays a very popular term. How to fight against meaningless attitude towards individual wellbeing and destiny. Only this way Kafka's world can be truly avoided and the now inevitable documentary reverted back to pure fiction.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews