Well, finished editing my essay today (apart from last minute twitches tonight, perhaps), so with that in mind, and since I know that my legions of daily readers simply devour existentialism like the ghosts of hades devour… well… souls, I suppose, I thought I’d share!

I am, however, slightly too lazy to go through and italicise/etc all the quotes and whatnot that are italicised.. mosty in the references and citations. So you’ll just have to imagine them. That said:

rnMilan Kundera (Reader, p. 175), locating his own fiction outside of the tradition of the psychological novel, suggests that “We are more and more determined by external conditions, by situations that no one can escape”. Briefly summarise your understanding of Kundera’s aesthetics of the novel, and critically apply either to Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Franz Kafka’s The Trial, Albert andCamus’ The Outsider or to Michael Ondaatje’s In the Skin of the a Lion.

Kafka, Kundera & ‘I’

As the world of literature and literary theory moves further from the original roots of the modern novel in the late nineteenth century, traditional applications of technique have held less sway, and have indeed been extended or even replaced by additional and different viewpoints in regards to both the purpose and the meaning of the modern novel. No work of literature exists in a vacuum, and many changes can be seen to mirror alterations in social perspective and attitude, or perhaps even to trigger such changes in the use of literary techniques. A growing theme, as the novel form itself grows, concerns the potential for alienation: the alienation of the character, of the author, of the audience, and of the novel itself. In a world with echoes from National Socialism and the Communist Party of the USSR still reverberating in modern life, and with the spectre of societies such as those foretold by George Orwell looming, it is perhaps inevitable that society would begin to feel the repressive instinct that accompanies the presence of a ‘Big Brother’ figure watching over them. This figure, present as it is primarily in the collective consciousness and not necessarily in reality can nevertheless be seen to shape human behaviour, with nationalist pride and political paranoia becoming almost omnipresent in the 21st century. The notion of inevitable subjugation to forces beyond the individual is not a new concept in the field of literature or literary theory. Rather, the concept was expressed in novel form as early as the second decade of the 20th century, by novelists such as Franz Kafka, and later by Milan Kundera.

In his book, The Art of the Novel, Milan Kundera wrote that the traditional view of the novel as a psychological exercise was not entirely correct or applicable. In the extract entitled Dialogue on the Art of the Novel, he writes, “we are more and more determined by external conditions, by situations that no one can escape.” (Kundera, Reader p.175). The notion that the novelist or the novelist’s creations are entirely bound up in and contained by the world in which they exist is present throughout his text. In this text, presented as a dialogue between two persons, labeled M.K and C.S, Kundera explores his notion of what the modern novel both means and must be, in order to be a true novel. When the C.S character asks Kundera where he would begin to define his own aesthetic of the novel, he receives the reply, “My novels are not psychological. More precisely, they lie outside the aesthetic of the novel normally termed psychological.” (Kundera, Reader, p.173). According to Kundera, this definition is not incredibly precise and yet is rather apt when applied to his work. What then, he is asked, can his novels possibly be concerned with, as surely all novels are psychological in that they are concerned with the enigma of the psyche? The psyche, however, is not the enigma that Kundera claims to be attempting to resolve in his writings, at least not entirely. Kundera writes that his novels are concerned with the enigma of the self, and with the expression of the self and its fundamental existence, or perhaps its fundamental nonexistence (Kundera, Reader, p.173).

The notion of the sense of self as the core ideal of the novel is a very existentialist one. Kundera highlights this further in his essay, as he points out to his C.S that the questions, “What is the self? How can the self be grasped?” are in fact fundamental questions that all novels should attempt to determine (Kundera, Reader p.173). Can the self be said to exist at all outside the realm of the observer? How does the self come to exist within the framework of a novel, let alone that of a reality? Kundera’s aesthetic view of the self, moreover, is not bound up within the traditional techniques of the novel form that had existed since its beginning steps. An illuminating example is given when Kundera decries the traditional means of creating character, describing several steps that are traditionally followed in order to flesh out a character for the audience (Kundera, Reader p.179). According to the traditional view, the writer must know every detail of his character, he must physically know the character down to the smallest description, and more precisely, he must convey these details to the reader. Kundera rejects this view, claiming that it is irrelevant to the true novel, that physical depictions of the character are incidental and unnecessary. He continues further, stating that the life of the character is almost as useless, and that in fact the creation of character in order to play the necessary roles in the novel requires nothing of the traditional technique at all (Kundera, Reader p.179). Kundera is not making a simple academic claim here, he states that he himself practices these techniques in his own work, making The Art of the Novel, in fact, a “confession of a practitioner” rather than an abstract theoretical text (Kundera, Clarifications).

The sense of self that Kundera extols, and states must be addressed within the framework of the novel underpins his notion of the literary aesthetic. It is not the author’s task to fully describe and visualise a character, rather it is a joint effort between the novelist and the reader to complete the work, with the reader’s imagination filling in the blanks, completing the vision of the author. The audience act in concert with the author to fulfill the author’s intention: namely that of conveying the enigma of the self to the understanding of both parties involved. In the Art of the Novel, Kundera makes clear the fact that the sense of self that is conveyed by his own characters in his novels is done so via this process. He details the examples of Tomas and Tereza in The Unbearable Lightness of Being, in which Tereza is described physically but Tomas is not. When questioned by C.S about the matter, Kundera says emphatically “the reader’s imagination automatically completes the writer’s. Is Tomas dark or fair? Was his father rich or poor? Choose for yourself!” (Kundera, Reader p179). According to Kundera, what the author wishes here is effectively irrelevant. The traditional methods of writing characters and defining them pale when compared to the existential problems that the characters possess: to Kundera, the existential flaws within the self are what truly define it. The novel, concerned as it is with the pursuit and the isolation of the existential idea of the self, should reject all extraneous input or data, as such information is not necessary and is thus detrimental to the focus on the essence of the self. As the character C.S comments, to Kundera, the novel can be effectively defined as a poetic meditation on existence (Kundera, Reader p.179). Kundera is not alone expressing these views; another novelist who Kundera considers to be a master of the techniques he is extolling, and incidentally considered by Kundera to be one of the four greatest novelists of all time (Kundera, Clarifications), is Franz Kafka.

In his novel The Trial, Kafka’s main character, despite the presence of an overly abstract nature, has been written in such a fashion that he still remains lifelike. Joseph K. at times seems able to leap off the page despite possessing very few physical traits, as Kundera asserted were unnecessary. Joseph K., the Chief Clerk at a local Bank, does not exist primarily within the realm of action and description. He never receives a physical description within Kafka’s text; very few of the characters present within the text receive much physical description at all. K. never receives more of a surname then a letter, and is commonly referred to as simply Herr K. or K., without any further elaboration on the lack or presence of a true surname. This lack of identity is not, however, limited to K., many characters in the story are referred to either by single names, or by their job function or title. In this manner, at least, Kafka’s tale progresses through its chapters in a fashion deemed suitable by Kundera.

Where Kundera’s analysis of the text seems to stumble, however, comes in the melding of both poetic meditation and a more overt stream of the character’s psychological presence. K., despite being physically almost non-existent, manages to convey much of his situation through continual thought processes displayed by his on-page consciousness. The primary mode of advancing the plot of K.’s Case is shown both through reflection by K. himself, and by his ruminations with other characters, many of whom exist only as labels, or as brief identities. It is interesting to note that K., extolling his own virtues and having them extolled back to him by almost every character he meets apart from those he himself regards with hostility, is unable to realise the actual nature of the problems that afflict him, and the root causes from which they spring. The degree of K.’s innocence is still heavily debated (Ward, Voice for Isaac), but within the text K. himself is oblivious to anything of his own doing that might result with him being at fault. Here then, we see the rather existential nature of K.’s problem. K. is unable to step outside himself to look at his Case dispassionately and objectively, rather he is caught up within it because his Case is, in effect, both of and related to his self. This also showcases the lack of objectivity from which all the other characters within the piece address K.’s Case, from the Wardens of the court to his defense lawyer, all of their viewpoints are given through the lens of K’s self, and are therefore as unable to step outside and provide new perspective as K. is. He is trapped, not only because of very fact that he has been arrested and is to be eventually tried, but because his own persona, his own self is both the root and the object of his current situation.

The actual nature of the Case to which K.’s story is bound, as well as the nature of the offense that K. is guilty of are never clearly illuminated in The Trial. The book, beginning as it does with a rather nonsensical account of K.’s arrest immediately after being awoken, by a pair of Warders with no official standing, continues down the path of merely referring to the Case as if the reader is well aware of the nature of the offense that K. has committed. K., beginning as a character who objects to his categorisation as a criminal, finds that the fact that he has been arrested has resulted in an almost anathemic reaction towards him from both his family and the greater community. His uncle, upon visiting him and learning that he is in fact under arrest, directs him to immediately fight the Case, and to employ the best lawyer possible (Kafka, The Trial p110). It is at the lawyer’s residence that the reasoning behind K.’s arrest becomes clearer, through the character of Leni, the lawyer’s maid. Leni, as in fact all women in The Trial, is a highly sexualised and objectified character (Bennet, Kafka and girls). Although the physical descriptions of neither Leni nor Fräulein Bürstner and her friend Fräulein Montag are not very detailed, the attitude of K. towards them is decidedly lascivious in nature (Kafka, The Trial pp123-124). Perhaps K. is being tried for his attitudes towards women, and to the expression of K.’s own self that these attitudes display. As the only perspective of the narrative is from K. himself, the audience only partakes in K.’s personal viewpoint, in the expression of his own self upon the characters of others. And it is this self, K.’s own self, that when focused upon a female model, becomes highly sexualised.

What, therefore, is the Court? If K.’s Case is that of a man who projects his inner views of sexuality upon all the women he meets, and acts accordingly, the Court is unlikely to be a specific court of law, as K. himself discovers in his attempts to make contact with those that govern the Court. The Court must be read as a metaphor for another function in existence, but the question remains, what does the Court represent? There are two relatively overt answers that can be gleaned from the novel, and these are that the Court is Life itself, sitting in judgement, or that the Court’s judgement is that of a higher power, namely God. Both of these are highly attractive viewpoints, and also link in efficiently with Kundera’s notions of the essence of self being expressed in Kafka’s work. If Life itself is the Court in which K. is being judged, then his judgement is springing from within, as only K. has a perfect view into the actions, or lack of actions of his own self. It is K.’s own essence that forms the world in which he moves, and it is therefore K. himself that is fully responsible for this world, from the moment of his arrest to the moment of his execution, “like a dog!” (Kafka, The Trial p255). These final words are illuminative in that they show how K.’s view of his self has degraded, from the pride and strength at being the Chief Clerk of the great Bank, to being merely an animal, led to the quarry outside of town and slaughtered. His essential humanity, his sense of self has been destroyed.

The Court as a religious institution is also an attractive concept when viewed in the light of the chapter ‘Cathedral’, in which the dialogue between K. and the Priest occurs. Here is an overt projection of the religious into the ‘real’ world of K., a theme that has been present in metaphor throughout the text. The Court, the notion of Judgement, the fact of being arrested for crimes which one cannot either defend against or argue for, and the motifs of attempted intercession by ‘blessed’ agents such as the lawyer, or the painter Titorelli, all point to religious influence in The Trial. And religion, concerned as it is with salvation and with the human soul, is another place where Kundera’s meditative poetry expresses itself, where the inner sin of the self, K., is the cause and the agent of his own downfall. K., when talking with the Priest, is irate at how the Priest’s parable seems to be against the very order of things as K. sees it; against the ideas that K. has expressed within the novel. The priest is frustrated that K. cannot understand the truth, or at the fact that K. is unable to understand the points that the priest is attempting to make. In his parable, the Priest describes a man who is blocked in his quest to access the Law by a gatekeeper, and is told that there are more gates beyond this. The man is told the time is not now, and so waits, until finally he dies, and as he dies the gatekeeper tells him that it is now time for the door to be closed (Kafka, The Trial p240). The priest informs K. that all men have their own doorway, therefore all have their own way to access the Law, yet of men, most do not know the correct time nor method to approach the Law until it is too late. Here the religious theme of the Case is perhaps the, the Court has sent the priest to explain to K. the consequences of his actions; here the priest specifically refers here to K.’s treatment of women, reaffirming the sexual motivation of K. (Kafka, The Trial p236). Yet K. still refuses to see what the priest is implying - that each and every human being has their own path, and their own time to reach the Law, or perhaps, God. It is only through their own self that they are able to approach the Law - the timing must come from within, the gatekeeper must be overcome, and the Law that they seek lies beyond a singular and personal gateway. The act of achieving the Law itself is, even as Kundera described the novel, a poetic meditation upon existence. Only within, and through oneself, can one achieve the Infinite. Eventually K. comes to terms with this, but only as the Case, or perhaps his Life runs down, and he lies on a sacrificial altar in a quarry of stone, and surrenders his sense of self, not only to the Law, but also to the negation of his own humanity.

Through the existentialist lens that Kundera brings to the novel form, the lack of character definition and action is meaningless. The inner thoughts of characters, equally, are meaningless; it is through their personal expression of self and the situations that this expression occurs within that value is to be found in the novel. The external condition is important only in that it shapes and effects the self. Yet, as Kundera wrote, the external condition is becoming more and more difficult to escape. As George Orwell wrote, “Big Brother is watching you,” followed shortly after by “War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength.” (Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four, pp3, 6) As humanity moves further into restricted space, the restrictions seem ever more natural and inescapable. Yet as Orwell also notes, “Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows.” (Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four, p84). As long as freedom of expression is maintained, perhaps it will be enough to ensure the freedom of humanity. Whilst the freedom to write, to speak and to think as one wills are still present and inalienable rights, perhaps Kundera’s situation that “no-one can escape” will not be fully realised. Unlike Joseph K.’s Case, in which he was effectively powerless due to the lack of knowledge, effort, realisation and understanding, the current world situation cannot completely be out of control, as long as the freedom of expression is maintained. Unfortunately, when observing modern politics and world events, it is impossible to say how long this freedom will be maintained, and the doomsayer might well look back upon Kundera’s words, and conclude that he was correct, and that the conditions that determine us as people are becoming more and more binding, and that we are being forced into “situations that no one can escape.” (Kundera, Reader p175).

References

Bennet, E (1998) Kafka and girls: the case of Leni; The Midwest Quarterly v39.n4, pp390(19), United States of America.

Kafka, F (1928) The Trial; trans. Muir, W & Muir, E (1968), Secker and Warburg, London.

Kundera, M (1989) Clarifications, Elucidations: An Interview with Milan Kundera, Review of Contemporary Fiction Vol. 9.2, [Available: Online http://www.centerforbookculture.org/interviews/interview_kundera.html]; [Accessed: 6/6/2007]

Kundera, M (1985) The Art of the Novel; WRIT319 Course Reader 2007, University of Wollongong, Australia

Orwell, G (1949) Nineteen Eighty-Four, Secker & Warburg, London

Ward, B (2004) Giving Voice to Isaac: The Sacrificial Victim in Kafka’s Trial; SHOFAR, Vol.22, No. 2

rnAlcata’riel.

-Andiyar