sauris 's review for:

Letters to Milena by Franz Kafka

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How does one review Letters to Milena when fragments of it have lived in our collective memory for years? I remember seeing an excerpt from Letters to Milena the first time I opened Tumblr, posted along with Le Lit, and since then, I kept finding Kafka on every corner of the internet. Reading this felt like reconnecting with an old friend again. I find myself unable to rate this - partly because how does one rate letters, but mainly because it's Kafka. Kafka's words stay with me in ways I don't fully realize until I reread him. His expressions have become my own - when I feel deeply, his words surface in my mind as if they were always mine. Although I suppose it's a universal feeling. With Milena's letters lost, Kafka's feverish yearning feels so intense that it hurts even though we know she wrote back.

"Moreover, perhaps it isn't love when I say you are what I love the most—you are the knife I turn inside myself, this is love." Thanks man, I'll never recover from this one.