Friday, April 01, 2011

A Testament to remember.

While reading Milan Kundera's Testaments Betrayed came across this on the art of novel writing:

"(Because) appehending the real world is part of the definition of the novel: but how to both apprehend it and at the same time engage in an enchanting game of fantasy? How be rigorous in analysing the world and at the same time be irresponsibly free at playful reveries? How bring these two incompatible purposes together? Kafka managed to solve this enormous puzzle. He cut a breach in the wall of plausibility; the breach through which many others followed him, each in his own way: Fellini, Marquez, Fuentes, Rushdie. And others."

I had not read anything that explained the fascination of Kafka so beautifully and so truly. Kafka wrote about reality while creating an implausible plot which nevertheless managed to make the readers understand and see reality in a different light than if somebody had written graphically and more realistically. I don't think Marquez or Rushdie, eventhough Kundera writes that they did, could do what Kafka had done. I love them. But whether its Midnight's Children, or Satanic Verses or Hundred Years of Solitude or Love in the times of Cholera, they are all more nearer to fantasy than plausibility. Kafka managed a perfect balance of both. Thats the genius of Kafka.  

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