“Similarly our people are but little affected by revolutions in the state or comtemporary wars. I recall an incident in my youth. A revolt had broken out in a neighboring, but yet quite distant, province. What caused it I can no longer remember, nor is it of any importance now; occasions for revolt can be found there any day; the people are an excitable people. Well, one day a leaflet published by the rebels was brought to my father’s house by a beggar who had crossed that province. It happened to be a feast day, our rooms were filled with guests, the priest sat in the chief place and studied the sheet. Suddenly everybody started to laugh; in the confusion the sheet was torn; the beggar, who however had received abundant alms, was driven out of the room with blows, the guests dispersed to enjoy the beautiful day. Why? The dialect of this neighboring province differs in some essential respects from ours, and this difference occurs also in certain turns of the written speech, which for us have an archaic character. Hardly had the priest read out two lines before we had already come to our decision. Ancient history told long ago, old sorrows long since healed. And though– so it seems to me in recollection– the gruesomeness of the living present was irrefutably conveyed by the beggars words, we laughed and shook our heads and refused to listen any longer. So eager are our people to obliterate the present.” Franz Kafka.
Excerpted from Kafka’s short story “The Great Wall of China”. Islander.