Mmmmm, Crumbkafka!
This weekend, my boyfriend bought R. Crumb's Kafka book. I read it, and I liked it. The next day, my mom called, and we both ended up on the phone with her. Since my dad's got quite the Crumb comic collection, I figured she'd know who I was talking about right away when I made a conversational segue from "what we had for Easter dinner" to "check out this cool book."
I said something like "You should check out R. Crumb's Kafka, it was really great.", and she exclaimed "I can't eat that! I'm on a diet!"
Huh? HUH?
Me, confused: "Why would you want to eat a book?" Boyfriend: (laughing himself silly)
It slowly becomes clear she thinks CRUMBKAFKA is some kind of CRUMBCAKE, so I say "Yes, with a side of angst pudding! Creamy angst pudding!" Accordingly, "crumbkafka" and "angst pudding" are the two most recent additions to our household lexicon.
But what about the book itself? As an introductory primer to the author, his work and life, I've not read anything better. Crumb's illustrations evoke Kafka and Prague perfectly. When I lived there, there was always a certain energy to the city, but Crumb's style captures the nervous, angsty uncertainty of prewar Jewish life there. The text's author clearly lays out Kafka's major works and the experiences which influenced them.
It's a must-read, even without the side of angst pudding.
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