The temptation when reading Kafka is to ask what he
is driving at, instead of looking at what he says.
This may account for the number of interpretations
of his work that have appeared, claiming to give an
account of his symbolism that will explain the mys-
terious fascination he undoubtedly does exercise. Yet
the reader of these interpretations is likely to feel as
dissatisfied when he has finished as he was when he
had only the works themselves to go on. He will
probably agree with Angel Flores, editor of The
Kafka Problem, that 'everyone who has read Kafka,
not to mention many who haven't, seems not to have
the slightest doubt that he understands him perfectly,
and moreover that he is the only one who does'.
There is, at all events, complete disagreement between
the interpreters who see in Kafka's novels and stories
primarily the account of a religious quest, and those,
chiefly psycho-analysts and sociologists, who find the
theological versions 'totally unsupported by internal
evidence'. After some study of these conflicting views,
one might well conclude that Kafka had left his
meaning unclear, that he had nothing definite to
communicate, and that a writer so vague and am-
biguous was not worth long attention.

Any further attempt at interpretation can only add
to the numbers on one side or the other. It can also

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