Memories of Kafka.

One of the great privileges of my life is that I was taught at Cambridge by the classicist and ancient historian Christopher Kelly. He will go down as the greatest classical scholar of his generation. I haven't seen him for a few years as he now lives in Chicago but we remain friends 23 years after we first met. During the first year he taught me he pointed me in the direction of reading Kafka. I knew of Kafka from his famous work "Metamorphosis" but Christopher pointed me in the direction of a lesser known piece called "The Great Wall of China". It is the story of a Chinese emperor who wanted to get a message to an unknown peasant in a far off corner of the empire. It graphically describes the journey of the messenger as he struggled even to make it beyond the gates of the Imperial Palace. The message never gets to the peasant but the crux of the story is that whoever we are our rulers belong to us and can converse with us. In the ancient Roman Empire all citizens could appeal to the emperor. Of course their stories rarely got that far but that enough to sustain the Imperial Cult.

At 3.15 am as I sat there sweating in my flat smoking a cigarette after yet another nightmare my thoughts turned to the Kafka story all these years later. In the dream I was in an unfamiliar pub run by familiar friends and populated by so many people I knew from my past and present. Some are mad and some are not. It was a jolly scene which turned sour as I went off to find the loo in the pub. I opened a door and then there was another door. Then another and another. It went on for ever. Odd though it might sound my mind went into terror. Am I, like the Imperial messanger following a road to nowhere and just finding more and more empty doors? In reality I woke up as I needed the loo. But why is my mind so cruel to me? It was the first of 3 nightmares before I got up this morning.

Does that mean I'm stressed? I don't feel so. Actually it has been a more sedate week. Yet still the nightmares come to my troubled mind. Disturbing though it is I would rather have that than the return to my day time psychosis of my waking nightmares.

For all the ups and downs of the last year I am still well. I looked back the other day at my blog posts since September. On reflection it has been a much tougher year than my conscious mind recalls. I recall it getting difficult in February. But the blog records chaos as starting in October. Yes another year is up, where will I be this time next year? I don't know. Let's hope it is a good place.

I Heard a Voice.