The Street Window

The Street Window
by Franz Kafka
(translated from german by Willa and Edwin Muir)

Whoever leads a solitary life and yet now and then wants to attach himself somehere, whoever, according to changes in the time of day, the weather, the state of business and the like, suddenly wishes to see any arm at all to which he might cling--he will not be able to manage for long without a window looking on to the street. And if he is in the mood of not desiring anything and only goes to his window sill a tired man, with eyes turning from his public to heaven and back again, not wanting to look out and having thrown his head up a little, even then the horses below will draw him down into their train of wagons and tumult, and so at last into the human harmony.

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Many a time in my life, my thoughts had wandered and taken me back to this little passage by Kafka. Just sharing some current thoughts. Not feeling too great I guess.

Read about how Max Brod (Kafka's lifelong friend) betrayed Kafka's wish to destroy his unprinted manuscripts after his death. He edited and published the materials instead. Brod had admired Kafka's work and wanted to make them known to others, but in doing so, defied Kafka's death-wish. That also became one of the main themes in Milan Kundera's book- Testaments Betrayed.

It is often the best-intentioned and most-passionate proponent that betrays. It is ironic but when we hold certain ideals/things/persons too dearly, we tend to unknowingly (or knowingly) gradually incapacitate the very-qualities we valued and loved in them. Mainly, it is not easy to discern between good and harm when you become too passionate with something. The infatuation process usually involves a slow, controlled suffocation of the subject. Shrug. Now, I will almost feel guilty whenever I commit or throw myself to doing anything too passionately. Haha. Anyway, something to think about.

Will be back to blog some, in the evening, perhaps.