Amerika by Franz Kafka – A mini review

It is impossible to pick up Kafka and revel in the simplicity of the alphabets. So unsettled you become by the mere succession of events that you are troubled to think that it might be something you are facing too. What is kafkaesque is not the fact that the events unfold as they do, but rather that you unravel the way you do. Ludicrously funny and panoramic Kafka, the book is incomplete (the end trails off in fragments) and yet it manages to evoke a distinct restlessness. 


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