Franz Kafka (July 1883 – June 1924) – a short biography translated from Kunisch (1965)

13 June 2024 Dr Sophie Louisa Bennett, PhD Conservation Biology (Lincoln 2016), MA Modern and Medieval Languages – German and Swedish (KC 1987, Cantab 2020), Diploma in Translation – German into English (City University/Institute of Linguists 1998)


A page from my souvenir album of a two-week holiday in Prague/Bohemia and Moravia in 1992. Photo of Kafka performance attended with ex-boyfriend: Sophie Louisa Bennett with Panasonic Lumix

Franz Kafka was a novelist and story writer, and is considered to be one of the most important writers of the first half of the 20th century. He was born in Prague on 3rd July 1883 at a time when Prague and the Czech Republic/Czechia was part of the Austro-Hungarian, and died at Kierling (near Vienna) on 3rd June 1924. Kafka was the son of a middle-class, well-to-do Jewish businessman. As a young man and throughout his life, with the exception of the final few years, Kafka suffered poor mental health as a result of his sensitive and introverted nature; it is implied that this was the consequence of Kafka being the son of a father who was exclusively concerned with social advancement and commercial success. Kafka dealt with his issues in ,,Brief an den Vater” – Letter to my father (November 1919).

He attended the Prague-Altstadt Grammar School (Deutsches Gymnasium Prag-Altstadt) between 1893 and 1901 – successfully completing his schooling, contrary to his own perspective on this period. Interested in Ibsen and Naturalistic drama, Spinoza and Nietzsche, influenced by Darwin’s evolutionary theories and an avowed Socialist.

In his first two Semesters at university he switched between various subjects – appearing to remain undecided. Under August Sauer he studied Hebbel and Stifter. Then in accordance with his father’s wishes Jurisprudence/Law. Alongside which he participated enthusiastically, but rather passively, in Prague’s literary circles. He became influenced by readings of Brentano, Flaubert and Hoffmansthal. Somewhere around this time he struck up a friendship with Max Brod, who was to become his literary executor, posthumous editor and publisher. He took his law degree (for State certification) in the summer of 1903. In July 1905 a stay in the sanatorium at Zuckmantel (Schlesia) is noted, during which time he met a woman (thought to have inspired Hochzeitsvorbereitungen auf dem Lande – Preparations for a Country Wedding, 1906/07). Then between November 1905 and June 1906 he completed his doctoral exams and became Dr. jur. (Dr of Law). After receiving his doctorate he spent more time in the sanatorium at Zuckmantel. Autumn 1906 to autumn 1907 he undertook his articles or the practical element of his legal training, and was subsequently taken on – hopefully to the satisfaction of his father – by Assicurazioni Generali, an insurance firm.

On 30th July 1908 Kafka started work as an assistant officer at the Workers’ Accident Insurance Corporation[1] for the Kingdom of Bohemia (Arbeiter-Unfall-Versicherungsgesellschaft für das Königreich Böhmen) in Prague, where he quickly made a name for himself as an insurance lawyer. However he does not find the work fulfilling. He becomes increasingly withdrawn, from both his literary and social life and keeps company only with a small circle. Any dialogue becomes the monologue of his diary, which he wrote from 1910 onwards and in which he conducted his own merciless self-analyses, wrote down his dreams, outlines of work he intended to write, epigrams and his thoughts on whatever he read.

Holidays provided a break from the monotony and loneliness of his life: in 1909 he travelled to Italy with Max and Otto Brod (Aeroplane in Brescia – Taking Flight to Brescia), went to Paris in 1910, to Switzerland, Italy again and Paris with Max Brod in 1911 (Richard und Samuel, 1912), travelled to Leipzig in 1912 with Brod, where he became acquainted with the publisher Rowohlt and Wolff, and then on to Weimar in the footsteps of Goethe. In 1911 he started to study the Jewish (his) faith and Hebrew, in earnest it seems. Between August 1913 and 1917 he found himself in an unstable relationship with Felice Bauer from Berlin, to whom he was engaged twice. In the autumn of 1913 he met a young Swiss woman in the sanatorium Riva. From 1915 he lived in his own apartment in Prague.

Kafka interpreted the outbreak of tuberculosis in August 1917 as a sign that Destiny was working against his future plans, and, as a result, he parted from Felice Bauer for good. Prolonged stays in the country, first with his youngest sister Ottla in Zürau near Saaz, were interspersed with attempts to go back to work, which ultimately failed, with the result that Kafka went into early retirement. He intensified his engagement with the Jewish religious tradition, undertook light outdoor work, swum and went walking. From 1919 there ensued stays in various different sanitoriums. In the autumn of 1919 he got engaged for the third time, but this did not last long. In 1920 he met Milena Jesenska-Pollak in Meran (Briefe an Milena – Letters to Milena, 1952). Mental and physical pain. Renewed reading of Kierkegaard and an existential struggle with his Jewish faith. In 1921 he made the acquaintance of Robert Klopstock who would later, as a friend, supervise him medically in the final stages of his suffering.

There was however a decisive change for the better in Kafka’s life story when he met Dora Dymant, the 20-year-old of Polish-Hassidic descent, on the Baltic coast in the summer of 1923. At the end of July 1923 he moved to Berlin, breaking away from Prague and his parents. Despite both material hardship and poor physical health he experienced relatively happy months with his companion by his side, and a phase of quiet productivity. But he was nonetheless dogged by illness. In March 1924 Brod was the one who brought the ailing Kafka – at this stage terminally ill – back to Prague, which the latter saw as a final triumph of his father’s will over him and over his life. He was defeated. He spent his final days in the sanatorium in Kierling near Vienna, where he was barely able to eat due to tuberculosis [Kehlkopf– indicates larynx – so was this a form of cancer rather than TB?] and was only able to communicate with Klopstock and Dora Dymant in written form. On his final day on earth he set about correcting the volume Der Hungerkünstler – The Starving Artist (1921 – 1924). Kafka died on 3rd June 1924. He was laid to rest in the Jewish cemetery Prague-Strašnice on 11th June 1924.

During his lifetime Kafka published only a limited number of his works: 6 publications in book form, plus a few contributions to magazines. The majority of his writings were published by Max Brod, against his express wishes which were to destroy anything unpublished. The editions Brod produced are not without their faults (,,nicht einwandfrei” – what is I ask myself?), since Kafka left no instructions on how the work was to be organised. This issue has even preoccupied researchers, who have discussed the possible arrangement, organisation and order of the chapters of Kafka’s novels.


Source of biographical material:

Kunisch, H. (1965) Handbuch der deutschen Gegenwartsliteratur [Handbook of Contemporary German Literature]. München: Nymphenburger Verlagshandlung [Published ,,unter Mitwirkung von Hans Hennecke” – in collaboration with Hans Hennecke]. The section on Kafka: 325-329. This book was acquired as surplus stock from the Institute of Germanic Studies while I was a library assistant/SCONUL trainee between 1991 and 1992.

[1] Gesellschaft can be translated directly in the sense of ‘a [cooperative] society’, in the context of corporate bodies, but I have chosen a different word. ‘Company’ is also frequently used – as in a business entity.

Titles of some of Kafka’s works may not be what you are anticipating – e.g. Hungerkünstler is evidently more commonly translated as “The Hunger Artist”.

Dr Sophie Louisa Bennett


Whitethorn in May – when the ‘awthorn blooms

6 May 2024Dr Sophie Louisa Bennett, PhD Conservation Biology (Lincoln 2016), MA Modern & Medieval Languages – German & Swedish (KC 1987, Cantab 2020), Diploma in Translation – German into English (City University/Institute of Linguists 1998)


Hawthorn – or if you are John Clare (1793 – 1864) ‘awthorn’ or ‘white thorn’. Photo of neighbour’s hedge, 5 May 2024: Sophie Louisa Bennett with Panasonic Lumix

It’s a sunny Bank Holiday and the May is still in bloom and has been for some days.  By ‘the May’ I mean Hawthorn (Crataegus species), a common hedgerow plant, abundant in farmland hedges.  Or at least once upon a time.

There are a number of reasons I think of ‘the May’ at this time of year – how I’d taken a picture of Karin T. during our last term at King’s, smiling beneath a May Tree in the evening glow, either on the way to Grantchester or along a pathway beyond Robinson (strangely enough), how it meant a lot to me during fieldwork for my PhD, and how ‘May’ may now well become a misnomer, since the flowering season has extended backwards into April.  Just like May Balls are in June…

Even at the time John Clare (1793 – 1864) wrote his Sonnet (one of a number – see below) April appears to have been the start of the flowering season.  Some may say that this woody plant, though magnificent, smells not nearly as lovely as it looks.  And there are thorns too, to catch you out.  Although not nearly as nasty as the Blackthorn.

Besides this sonnet, the (H)awthorn or white thorn is referred to in a number of Clare’s poems including The Yellowhammer, a poem which I used as both inspiration and a header for an undergraduate essay on the conservation of farmland birds during my BSc in Conservation Biology.

Sonnet

How beautiful the white thorn[1] shews its leaves

The first in springs beginnings march or close

Of April and how very green it weaves

The branches in the underwood they burst

More green than grass the common eye receives

Pleasures o’er green white thorn clumps in the wood

So beautifully green it seems at first

It does the eye that gazes on it good

The green enthusaism [sic] of young spring

The Blackbird chooses it from all the wood

With moss to build his early nest and sing

Among the leaves the young are snugly nurst

Mornings young dew wets each pinfeathered wing

Before a bunch of May was from its white knobs burst.

Notes:

[1] White thorn is another name for Hawthorn.  The edition I have includes a glossary, but that glossary omits ‘white thorn’ as a term and makes no cross-reference to ‘awthorn’ as Clare also liked to refer to it.  Presumably since the editors reasoned that such a common hedgerow plant would not require further explanation.


Source of text of ‘Sonnet’:

Robinson, E. and Powell, D. [Eds.] (2004) John Clare: Major Works – including selections from The Shepherd’s Calendar.  Oxford: OUP – Oxford World’s Classics [With an Introduction by Tom Paulin]. ISBN: 978-0-19-954979-5. This edition first published in 1984 with the Introduction by Tom Paulin added in 2004 and then reissued in 2008]. The edition includes a tribute to librarians and archivists by the editors.



Biographical notes [from the preface and back cover of the Oxford World’s Classics edition]:

John Clare (1793 – 1864) is now recognized as one of the greatest English Romantic poets, after years of indifference and neglect.  Clare was an impoverished agricultural labourer – rising to fame as the Northamptonshire Peasant Poet in 1820 with the publication of his Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery. Despite the success of this work and the subsequent publication of three more volumes of verse his genius was not generally appreciated by his contemporaries.  He fell into want and neglect, and his later mental instability further contributed to his loss of critical esteem. Suffering from mental illness he entered an asylum in Epping Forest as a voluntary patient.  Four years later he walked away from this place to his home at Northborough, but in 1841 he was committed to Northampton General Lunatic Asylum.  Where he died. 

Throughout most of his life, he wrote voluminously – remarkable observations of the natural life of the Soke of Peterborough, love songs and lyrical poems of the greatest delicacy, ribald satire and ballads and is considered to be one of the earliest and best recorders of English folk traditions. 

The extraordinary range of his poetical gifts has more recently restored him to the company of his contemporaries Byron, Keats and Shelley, and this fine selection [the Oxford World Classics edition’s own words] illustrates all aspects of his talent.  It contains poems of all aspects from his body of work, including love poetry, and bird and nature poems.  Clare’s work provides a fascinating reflection of rural society, often underscored by his own sense of isolation and despair.


The cover illustration for the book is from Harvesters Resting by Peter de Wint (1784 – 1849), Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge.  [A combined effort therefore!]. Photo of own copy of Clare: Sophie Louisa Bennett with Panasonic Lumix

The cover illustration for the book is from Harvesters Resting by Peter de Wint (1784 – 1849), Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge.  [A combined effort therefore!]


The Yellowhammer

When shall I see the white thorn leaves agen

And Yellowhammers gath’ring the dry bents

By the Dyke side on stilly moor or fen

Feathered wi love and natures good intents

Rude is the nest this Architect invents

Rural the place wi cart ruts by dyke side

Dead grass, horse hair and downy headed bents

Tied to dead thistles she doth well provide

Close to a hill o’ ants where cowslips bloom

And shed o’er meadows far their sweet perfume

In early Spring when winds blow chilly cold

The yellow hammer trailing grass will come

To fix a place and choose an early home

With yellow breast and head of solid gold.


We used to get Yellowhammers in the garden – the vivid males and the slightly less vivid females would visit to feed.  Not for some years now though.  I hear them but do not know where they are.  Perhaps somewhere in the fields beside the cycle path.  Minding their business and lying low.  For me this used to be the sound of summer too, the call of the Yellowhammer: Little-Bit-of-Bread-and-No-Cheese – one of the first bird calls you would learn to identify as a child because it is so distinctive.  (Unlikely now that you would find no cheese in our household and probably at one time or another we have also fed some to the birds when in need.)


Illustration by Gould showing a pair of Yellowhammers (although not the accompanying folklore about their medicinal value) from a book on Songbirds bought in WHSmith in the 1980s with pocket money. Photo: Sophie Louisa Bennett with Panasonic Lumix

Considering both Clare’s Sonnet and The Yellowhammer it is possible to sense both the joy and melancholy in his voice.  Nature is regarded as being ‘healing’ but for him this became problematic.  His head was evidently full of the images of the natural world and its workings he saw about him.  And as an agricultural labourer, while he appears to have had a good education (eccentricities in spelling can be excused on the basis there was not the same standardisation as we now see in written English), he did not have the luxury of becoming a poet full time and evidently his few volumes did not make him sufficient money to keep afloat.  We see this so often with creative people – and often poets and writers in general – that they are tormented by something that they try to put a name to.  And this is likely to be one of the reasons, alongside a humble background, that John Clare ‘defied’ – and reviled – any standardisations in grammar and spelling.



Hawthorn with its white flowers and ‘knobs’ as John Clare refers to them in his Sonnet, and thorns. Photo of neighbour’s hedge: Sophie Louisa Bennett with Panasonic Lumix