Everything changes, and time changes everything. We expect that, but we do not expect the unexpected. It is the unanticipated that avoids thoughtful speculation. We do not truly expect life to be a chapter from a Kafka novel, and there is no dealing with that world of illogic that so closely parallels real life. When chaos is so engulfing that finding the pieces of the puzzle becomes a mental challenge of seemly impossible proportions, the recognition of problems and solutions are not apparent.
When we find a piece that is of such an unusual shape that purpose and function evades analysis of our intellect, it then becomes a gray form isolated … it emerges part of an infinitesimally small, unrecognizable form that can be associated with another of its kind and continues for a lifetime until a pattern begins to form. The kaleidoscope of moving blurring colors begins to form a partially formed paint- by-numbers picture, but there is no outline where the colors should be brushed.
Interesting that Kafka also saw the world as illogical subtleties. I caught a glimpse of it in “Trial” and again in “The Metamorphosis,” but it was only a dim shadow of the reality it represented. Kafka wrote it as it should have been written; however, one must have knowledge and mature awareness of the world before the full impact is realized. The experience is an interesting metaphysical study of a vague reality more suitable for discussion over coffee and a stack of books … and students seeking intellectual enlightenment beyond the awareness of their reality.
Civilization has a way of cocooning its members from harsh realities in a rushing whirlwind world filled with barbarians that are always there at every period in our limited history. Civilization is at best a thin veneer with no strong walls for protection, but it is part of Kafka’s world, and when the officials in “The Trial” told our protagonist that he was under arrest, he asked, “What are the charges?” They replied that he knew the charges, and he should be on time for his trial. The officials left, and our everyman had to find the truth himself. Read the book if you want to know the rest of the story or look in the mirror if you want to see the protagonist.
We can only ignore the pain of the dull awareness for so long because it grows more intense each day, and we find ourselves surrounded in a crowd of others tapping into Buckminester Fuller’s theory of “Cosmic Consciousness.” Awareness does not just tap one person, it spreads like the plague, and no one can remain transfixed without reaction. Civilization becomes a philosophical thought as the world challenges our thoughtful demeanor and realigns our goals and objectives, but the narcotic of civilization deadens us to the world’s realities. Then comes the American Revolution, the Civil War, World War I, minor wars, the Great Depression, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, minor wars, the Great War with Islamic Fascism with all it horrors not yet having occurred.
Kafka had it right. He did not predict the future. He understood the psyche of the human condition. The future always brings the fruits of that mortal condition to every great society. We have been here before, and it is through the pain that great people emerge. I am privileged to know several who may make the history books. If they do not, it is because we solved the problems before catastrophe, or perhaps it is because we did not write the history books. Our trial has begun, but we are having difficulty finding the courtroom.