I don’t want to read The Trial today. I feel crabby about Kafka. Want to whine with me?
I woke up this morning missing Jane Eyre. What happened to books like Brontë wrote? Jane Eyre had some creepy, dream-like parts (as does The Trial), but I’m tired of
- people without real names–Joseph K. What does the K stand for?
- weird relationships–I’ve never met you Fräulein Bürstner, but I’m Joseph K., and I’m going to stalk you and then passionately kiss you the first time we meet.
- the author’s attempt to shock– What is up with the law books being pornographic drawings? Or what’s with the bizarre beating of the wardens in the law office lumber closet?
- lack of emotional connection to characters–How can I root for Joseph? I don’t know anything about him.
- experimental writing–I’m a primogeniture; I like rules.
Perhaps my rebellious feelings come from reading one experimental book after another: Mrs. Dalloway followed by The Trial. I’m tired of feeling lost. I want to care about characters. I want to be able to follow plot. For that matter, I want to enjoy reading.
What happened to happily ever after? I miss Jane Eyre.