The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

Ben Okri Reads Franz Kafka

The New Yorker: Fiction

CHAPTER

The Bread That Resists Being Cut

I like the way he refuses to put myth on that pedestal and implies that, well, in real life you just get tired of this. This eternal repeating of the torture, it just becomes boring. Even the wound itself gets bored and closes itself up. He's chosen one of the most central images in the human story - a large loaf of bread lay on the table. I mean, just that sentence alone one octa.

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