Kafka and I had a terrible breakup as a result of me trying to read “The Trial.” But, I can now say we’ve made up and are getting on smashingly. The story above, just a few pages long, is the reason why. 

In it, he writes of the death of hunger art as a way to poke fun at society’s changing cultural “interests.” The funny thing though is that today hunger art, or performance art, actually…

Mister Kafka, I gave it my best, my all. I tried getting through it in waiting rooms, in immigration lines, by the pool, by the beach, on a balcony, at a farm, on vacation, on a Monday, sitting up, lying down, after yoga, after coffee, and even over several layovers. But, it is official. I give up — I cannot read another word of “The Trial.”

As a committed fan, I have taken the liberty of…