Metamorphosism

We of course all understand it, being intellectuals.
« Freedom to assemble | Main | Sublime »

September 23, 2003

New Kafka manuscript discovered

I discovered a handwritten manuscript (yellowed individual sheets of note paper bound with those bendy brass things; with coffee stains and what looks like a beer stain in one corner, pilsner) in the back of an old child's toy kitchen (Wiener Werkstätte, about 1918) at a flea market this weekend. Excuse the clumsy translation; author's notes in parentheses, translator's notes in square brackets.

    Goreg Samsa (think of better last name later) woke one morning from troubling dreams to discover that he owned thirteen (good number) black suits. It was beyond his comprehension how he had ended up with so many. It was [style is better in original, there is naturally no repetition of the phrase "it was"] not until this time that he noticed someone was banging on his door; that must have been what dragged [snatched? clutched?] him from his dreams in the first place. It was the girl, and the girl was in a foul mood. "How dare you write on your weblog that my friend is hot?" Samsa made a mental note to keep secret all [illegible, looks like "URLs"] in the future. He rolled over and mumbled towards the door, "well, she is hot. Is she hot or isn't she? It's not like I want to date her." "That's perv... that's pedophilic," the girl shouted. "You're 44. You're a pig." "Pedo-what?" he said. At this point the large lump beside him in bed began to stir. Goreg (not crazy about this name either) had thought until now was a lump of bedclothes. [Illegible, looks like "Richard Nixon" but that's impossible] climbed out of bed and stumbled towards the door. "He is not a pederast," he said, shaking his jowly face. "You get out of this, Nixon," Samsa said. "You just go back to hell, I can do without your help." Nixon snorted and went back to hell. The day was starting all wrong, Goreg Samsa thought, except for the Nixon going to hell part. "Is breakfast ready yet?" he asked. "Or at least coffee?"

Posted at September 23, 2003 07:34 AM
Comments

American Beauty meets Kafka! When did Goreg turn into a bgu?

Posted by: joeri at September 23, 2003 08:55 AM

Must've been a later draft.

Posted by: mig at September 23, 2003 09:11 AM

I remember the "hot" reference. At the time, I was thinking "uh-oh!"

Sounds like, perhaps, a bit of the surreal is setting in...

Posted by: scotty the body at September 23, 2003 02:34 PM

This is why I won't be writing about the beautiful new neighbor to whom I have just been kindly been introduced. But that's not my big worry. If she would only leave me alone to write a poem or two...

Posted by: John Eeksy Doe at September 23, 2003 07:14 PM

Here's a suggestion: Write it on her tummy in Nutella!

(Let me know if this works).

Posted by: mig at September 24, 2003 08:54 AM

I like the Nixon going back to hell part.

Posted by: peggy at September 24, 2003 05:28 PM

Yeah, we're not supposed to notice their bellybuttons or anything.

A friend of mine (F.) with hot daughters told me that when they dress up sexy they're mostly trying to impress each other. They don't even care about the guys their age much. But maybe she was lying to me.

Posted by: Zizka at September 25, 2003 04:38 AM

http://ingeb.org/Lieder/imwaldim.html

Lore, Lore, Lore, Lore,
Schön sind die Mädchen
Von siebzehn, achtzehn Jahr.
Lore, Lore, Lore, Lore,
Schöne Mädchen gibt es überall (aber nicht hier)

Posted by: joeri at September 25, 2003 02:48 PM
No comment form? Blame the spammers. I generally close comments on entries after a while, especially if they get spammed. If you would like to leave comment, please use one of my recent entries, or mail me at metamorphosist AT gmail dot com. Thank you and sorry for any trouble.