In this blog post, we’ll explore Kafka’s life and the German-speaking context, as well as how works such as “The Missing Person,” “The Trial,” and “The Castle” dismantled the modern coming-of-age narrative and shaped the “Kafkaesque” world.

The Birth of Kafkaesque Literature

The German language has a word, “kafkaesk,” which literally means “Kafka-like” but is used to describe something “enigmatic and eerie.” Naturally, this term—derived from Kafka’s name—is a literary term that was first coined in the English-speaking world and later adopted into German. The meaning of this term becomes clear when one recalls the protagonist of Kafka’s most famous novella, ‘The Metamorphosis’: Gregor Samsa, who suddenly transforms into an insect one day at home and dies in his own room. Though the story depicts a nightmarish, highly surreal situation, it is narrated with remarkable realism. “Enigmatic” is by far the most frequently used adjective to describe Kafka. Kafka, who wrote incredibly obscure works from the periphery of the German-speaking world, was not well-known during his lifetime and passed away at a young age; he is one of the few authors in German literary history regarded as a “myth.” Above all, his literary world—which at first glance seems very unfamiliar and defies classification into any contemporary literary category or school—appears to have played a major role in mythologizing the author.
One scholar has likened Kafka’s texts to the images used in the Rorschach test, meaning they can yield so many interpretations that it is difficult to synthesize them. That said, Kafka’s works are not something that suddenly fell from the sky, rejecting all references. Like all literary works, Kafka’s were created within specific literary-historical, historical, and sociopolitical contexts. No matter how much of an outsider someone may have been, or how ingenious and rich their imagination, their life is a product of the time and place to which they belonged. Those who seek to mystify Kafka and his works as mere “enigmas” often strive to portray his life as that of a deeply lonely and unhappy outsider. However, Kafka was a lawyer who majored in law and even earned a doctorate; he was a quasi-civil servant who worked as an employee of an insurance company his entire life until his death at the age of forty. He was also a highly exemplary and capable employee who received the highest praise from his colleagues. In other words, Kafka’s life was far removed from the commonly cited “Kafkaesque” image; he did not live confined solely to a “dreamlike” inner world.
A key point in understanding Kafka’s work—though it may sound trite—is the fact that he was a German-Jewish man living in Prague. He studied at German-language educational institutions from elementary school through higher education, and German was also spoken in his home. This means that his thinking and literary writing were centered, above all, on the literature and culture of the German-speaking world. This does not mean his works should be confined solely to German literature, but it explains why they should not be read in complete isolation from the history of German literature. As with any writer, Kafka’s reading range was likely very broad, and it is easy to surmise that the German-language literary and philosophical texts he encountered primarily at school and at home had a significant influence on his thinking and writing.
In this context, before examining the influence of any specific author, it is necessary to focus on the German “coming-of-age novel” (Bildungsroman) as the cultural backdrop in which Kafka grew up. This genre, which depicts the process of growth and development of an individual seeking their own identity, has occupied a dominant position in the history of modern German fiction since its emergence in the 18th century, establishing itself as the representative form of fiction for the bourgeoisie. Since the narrative of “growth and development” is, perhaps, a story that nearly every nation and society still recognizes and pursues today, reflection on this narrative is both natural and inevitable from both social and literary perspectives. Even into the early to mid-20th century, numerous German-language authors—including Hermann Hesse, Thomas Mann, and Robert Musil—continued to delve deeply into the themes of coming-of-age narratives.
The narrative of individual growth, which aims at the discovery and realization of the self, presupposes a belief in the individual as a subject and a modern optimism regarding the progress of time and history. What is noteworthy here is how this mode of thought and consciousness—which had dominated Western modernity since the 18th century—transformed as it moved through the 19th century and into the 20th. In other words, questions and skepticism regarding whether individuals could move toward a better future based on time with infinite possibilities, and whether all growing individuals and the society they form could create a utopian future, became hotly debated topics in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Kafka’s three novels—’The Missing Person’, ‘The Trial’, and ‘The Castle’—and his short story ‘The Metamorphosis’ fundamentally reject and subvert the narrative of modernity’s progress. To a modern world dreaming of a rosy narrative of progress, what Kafka presents is, rather, closer to a “gloomy, ashen prophecy.”

Repeated Encounters with Absurdity and Frustration

‘The Missing Person’ begins with the protagonist, Karl Rossman, arriving at New York Harbor, where the Statue of Liberty stands. Rossman, a seventeen-year-old boy cast out by his parents and left alone in the unfamiliar United States, at first glance seems perfectly suited to be the protagonist of a coming-of-age narrative. From the very beginning to the end of the novel, he is a boy filled with good will and aspirations for the future, struggling to take control of his own life and turn it into a “coming-of-age story” that moves forward. The first chapter, in particular, clearly illustrates the protagonist’s character as he constantly strives to objectively interpret the situations and the world around him, make rational judgments, and assert and justify himself. Moreover, before he even steps off the ship, Rosman meets his uncle, who has become a successful businessman and a U.S. senator. Up to this point, it seems as though Rosman will be able to continue the “coming-of-age story” that was interrupted in Germany as the “American Dream.” However, in Kafka’s world, such a string of good fortune is rare. His uncle soon kicks the innocent, harmless Rossman out of his home, and Rossman is once again thrown back to the point where his “story” had been cut short.
Even the experiences he has at the Occidental Hotel, where he works as an elevator boy, fail to propel him forward. The world never gives him the chance to become the master of his own “history.” No matter how rationally and logically he tries to assess and control the situation, chance is never on his side. His life is governed not by himself, but by irresistible chance. The life Rosman experiences in the United States does not unfold as a continuous coming-of-age narrative; instead, it fragments into discontinuous, disjointed episodes. The events at the Occidental Hotel, his uncle’s house, and Brunelda’s house could be rearranged in any order without causing much of a problem, because there is no clear connection between the successive episodes. “There is a goal, but no path to reach it. What we call a path is merely a delay.” This aphorism by Kafka applies to all the protagonists in his novels. Scenes of getting lost or losing one’s bearings in the darkness recur throughout ‘A Missing Person’, ‘The Trial’, and ‘The Castle’.

Alienation and Critique of Modernity in the Highly Capitalist Society of “America”

It is also worth noting that the novel is set in the United States. By choosing America as the setting for his coming-of-age story, Kafka prompts us to ask what “coming of age” means in a society where capitalism and technological civilization are highly developed. The America that Rosman experiences is depicted as a future that is within reach for the Europe he lived in. He is a character who experiences in advance the future toward which European history is heading. The realistic portrayal of American life—revealed through his uncle’s world of success and his stay at the Occidental Hotel—lay bare the problems faced by individuals in the modern world.
The fact that time frequently emerges as an issue in the novel also fits into this context. Modern society and the individual are subject to the obsessive goals of growth and development, and it is difficult to escape this pressure. Rosman’s uncle abolished the custom of employees greeting one another at the company to save time. The uncle demands that Rossman wake up at 4:30 a.m. and devote himself to self-improvement. Ultimately, the most important thing Rossman must learn to succeed in America is how to manage his time efficiently. The protagonists of Kafka’s novels all have to fight off drowsiness while their bodies are exhausted. The root cause of this boils down to the problem of time management. Modern growth and development operate on the premise of the passage of time.
Joseph Mendel, a college student and neighbor of Brunelda’s family who appears in the latter half of the novel, tells Rossman that he doesn’t sleep at all and drinks black coffee all day long. Rossman and many other workers in the novel struggle desperately to save every minute and second. However, it is difficult to view them as actually writing the history of growth and development. Their lives are, in reality, closer to “self-exploitation.” Chapter Five, which describes the world of the Occidental Hotel, features a story about the communal dormitory provided for dozens of elevator boys, including Rossman. This dormitory, which houses boys exhausted from twelve hours of grueling labor each day, is reminiscent of a massive “labor camp,” and it can easily be read as a metaphor for the modern world depicted in ‘The Disappeared’—or for the modern world in which we live.

Femininity and Gender Discourse

In the latter part of the novel, which ends unfinished, Karl Rossman is expelled from the Occidental Hotel and takes up residence in the home of “singer” Brunelda. To fully understand this episode, it is necessary to focus on the issue of femininity—a theme that recurs in Kafka’s other novels—namely, the discourse on gender identity in modern Western society.
Modern gender discourse distinguishes between and hierarchizes the characteristics and essences of men and women. This discourse defines reason, civilization, and society as the essence and categories of masculinity, while placing the essence and categories of femininity on the side of irrationality and nature. As a result, the relationship between women and men is transformed into a conflict between reason and nature, and female characters—who embody nature—are portrayed as potential or direct threats to the male protagonist.
In this context, the female characters in the novel generally play the role of obstructing the male protagonist’s path or luring him into ruin. The male protagonist—that is, the rational and reasonable subject—experiences women as irrational and elusive beings, and his relationship with them often ultimately leads to the subject’s collapse.

A 20th-Century Parody of Odysseus and the Sirens

The bizarre yet comical story of Brunelda and Rosman at the end of the novel can be read as a 20th-century parody of the ancient myth of Odysseus and the Sirens.
Scholars of the Frankfurt School viewed Odysseus, the wise hero of mythology, as the archetype of the rational modern subject—a figure who avoids the Sirens’ fatal song and succeeds in returning home.
Rosman, too, appears to be a rational subject who trusts his own rationality—that is, a sort of Odysseus. However, the journey he embarks upon unfolds as an odyssey of decline and ruin. The turning point that sets him on a path of no return is an incident involving a maidservant who sexually assaults him, and the female characters with whom he becomes entangled before his capture by Brunelda are, for the most part, hostile or untrustworthy.
Brunelda, who imprisons Rosman and turns him into a servant, is a figure embodying a combination of hysteria, capriciousness, and violence. It is uncertain whether Rosman will be able to escape this dark world, and even if he does, the novel’s title already suggests that the path unfolding before him will lead into an abyss.

Comic Touch and Detachment—The Strategy of Irony

Viewed this way, Kafka’s works might seem to be filled solely with heavy and serious tones. However, Kafka is, surprisingly, a comic writer. The serious, reflective, and sometimes tragic themes underlying his novels are often presented through sitcom-like episodes and a B-movie sensibility.
For example, the episodes in which Karl Rossman encounters the vagabonds Robinson and Delamarch before reaching the Occidental Hotel are vignettes brimming with comic elements. The fact that these seemingly harmless figures lead Rossman into Brunelda’s world adds to the irony. Brunelda is a femme fatale who appears to these two men as the most beautiful woman, but in reality, she is one of the most grotesque and repulsive characters in German literary history.
Kafka’s use of comic episodes to create distance from heavy themes naturally allows readers to maintain a sense of detachment from the tragic narrative. He implies that his story is “his own (subjective)” narrative, thereby encouraging readers to maintain an objective perspective.

The Unfinished Ending and the Impossibility of a Coming-of-Age Narrative

Kafka abandoned the novel without completing the Brunelda episode. Among the remaining manuscripts is a short story titled “The Natural Theater of Oklahoma,” leading some to interpret that the novel was originally conceived as a utopian story with a happy ending. While it is clear that an unfinished work allows for conflicting interpretations, as the novel’s title itself suggests, Karl Rossman was conceived from the outset as a “missing person.”
In a letter to a friend, Kafka wrote, “We must read books that make us suffer.” He was referring to books that make us as unhappy as the death of a loved one. He maintained his own “poetics of unhappiness,” stating that he could easily write stories that made readers happy on his own.
The impossibility of the coming-of-age narrative he wrote is not merely a literary choice. Since the 18th century, “growth and development” have become central discourses in modern society, and even individuals were not permitted to pause or repeat themselves. However, the reality humanity has reached over more than 200 years of history—in the face of potential crises at the ecosystem level, including those affecting humans—demands a fundamental reflection: the narrative of growth and progress promised by modernity no longer guarantees unconditional hope.