Tickling the Ivories

…writing to figure out what I think

…The Castle by Franz Kafka. Kafka wrote in the early 20th century, died in 1924, but gained only posthumous recognition for his surviving novels and short stories, against his wishes. Kafka wrote to his close friend Max Brod that, after his demise, he wanted all of his papers to be destroyed. What a tragedy that would have been! His writing is so unique and so compelling to read. If it did not seem to you that early modernist writing could be anything aside from a slug-fest, read The Trial or The Castle and tell me if they do not grab you instantly and propel you through their pages. Kafka has a way of keeping his reader continually disoriented. He is always tossing in phrases that force one to reevaluate the nature of everything he has written up to that point. It might seem that such a technique would foster frustration, but what results is a refreshing quality in the writing—it is not a freshness that brings lightness and joviality—it is a freshness like a snake that is perpetually shedding its skin;—it feels like the work is being birthed over and over again as one is reading. The result, for Kafka, is that the reader identifies with K., the main character, simply through the act of reading. One does not have to make any mental leaps into a character’s perceived point of view;—everything we need to interact with the writing is given without us noticing.

Two quick notes on punctuation…I recently attempted reading Faulkner’s Absalom, Absalom! I failed—but I did learn something while doing so. Faulkner liked to use some strange punctuation in his writing, and I am not at all sure I know why he chose the marks he did. One in particular that I noticed often was this… ;— …a semicolon followed by an em-dash. Why use the two together? Why not just one or the other? Was Faulkner anticipating the winking smily face? I doubt it. Whatever his reasons, I like the combination and if I think of it I will use it from time to time. Kafka wrote in one of his journals (which must make for amazingly fertile material for psychologists):

“Omission of the period. In general the spoken sentence starts off in a large capital letter with the speaker, bends out in its course as far as it can towards the listeners and with the period returns to the speaker. But if the period is omitted, then the sentence is no longer constrained and blows its entire breath at the listener”

I can see this idea evidenced in his sentences. Most of his constructions would probably get steamrolled without a second thought in an undergraduated writing workshop.