The New Criterion, 1984
In 1983, the art critic Dore Ashton asked a number of writers to speak at a not–very–memorable conference on Kafka. When asked, I said, “Sure. Why not?”
The conference was held shortly after the wedding day of a woman I had cared about passionately, but who had dropped me, (hard), in order to marry an investment banker. The night of their marriage I sat sulking at home until— as if in a trance, I went to my desk and in one sitting wrote the first draft of this meditation on Kafka, Felice Bauer, and marriage,
The whole experience was a little uncanny.