"Franz_Kafka_-_Diaries_1912" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kafka Franz)

16 March. Saturday. Again encouragement. Again I catch hold of myself, as one catches hold of a ball in its fall. Tomorrow, today, I'll begin an extensive work
which, without being forced, will shape itself according to my abilities. I will not give it up as long as I can hold out at all. Rather be sleepless than live on in this way.


Cabaret Lucerna. Several young people each sing a song. Such a performance, if we are fresh and listen closely, more strongly impresses upon us the conclusions
which the text offers for our own life than is possible by the performance of experienced artistes. For the singer cannot increase the force of the poetry, it always
retains an independent forcefulness which tyrannizes us through the singer, who doesn't even wear patent-leather shoes, whose hand sometimes will not leave his knee,
and, if it must, still shows its reluctance, who throws himself quickly down on the bench in order to conceal as much as possible how many small, awkward movements
he had needed.


Love scene in spring, the sort one finds on picture postcards. Devotion, a portrayal which touches and shames the publicЧFatinitza. Viennese singer. Sweet,
significant laugh. Reminds me of Hansi [one of his college girlfriends]. A face with meaningless details, mostly too sharp, held together and smoothed down by
laughter. Ineffective superiority over the audience which one must grant her when she stands on the stage and laughs out into the indifferent audienceЧThe Degen's
stupid dance, with dying will-o'-the-wisps, twigs, butterflies, death's head.


Four УRocking Girls.Ф One very pretty. The program does not give her name. She was on the audience's extreme right. How busily she threw her arms about, in what
unusually palpable, silent movement were her thin long legs and delicately playing little joints, the way she didn't keep time, but didn't let herself be frightened out of her
business, what a soft smile she had in contrast to the distorted ones of the others, how almost voluptuous her face and hair were in comparison with the sparseness of
her body, the way she called УslowlyФ to the musicians, for her sisters as well as for herself. Their dancing master, a young, strikingly dressed, thin person, stood behind
the musicians and waved one hand in rhythm, regarded neither by the musicians nor by the dancers and with his own eyes on the audience.


Warnebold, fiery nervousness of a powerful person. In his movements there is sometimes a joke whose strength lifts one up. How he hurries to the piano with long
steps after the number is announced.


Read Aus dem Leben eines Schlachtenmalers [Battle painters who work from life.]. Read Flaubert aloud with satisfaction.


The necessity of speaking of dancers with exclamation marks. Because in that way one imitates their motion, because one remains in the rhythm and the thought does
not then interfere with the enjoyment, because then the action always comes at the end of the sentence and prolongs its effect better.



17 March. During these days read Morgenrot [Morning Red] by StЎssl.


Max's concert Sunday. My almost unconscious listening. From now on I can no longer be bored by music. I no longer seek, as I did in vain in the past, to penetrate this
impenetrable circle which immediately forms about me together with the music, I am also careful not to jump over it, which I probably could do, but instead I remain
calmly in my thoughts that develop and subside in this narrowed space without it being possible for disturbing self-observations to step into their slow swarm. The
beautiful Уmagic circleФ (by Max) that seems here and there to open the breast of the singer.


Goethe, УTrost in Trфnen [Comfort in Tears].Ф Alles geben die GЎtter, die unendlichen,/ Siren Lieblingen ganz:/ Alle Freuden, die unendlichen,/ Alle
Schmerzen, die unendlichen, ganz. [The gods give everything, the infinite ones, / Darling siren, all: / All joys, the infinite ones, / All hurts, the infinite ones,
all.]