Kafka’s sister

2024 has marked the centenary of Franz Kafka’s early death from tuberculosis. In August we visited an exhibition in the Bodleian Library in Oxford, which holds the majority of Franz Kafka’s archive. This inspired me to find out more about Franz’s life. A podcast (Ottla Kafka, la sœur chérie : hors du monde haïssable) led me to his remarkable sister, Ottla, and his Letters to Ottla and the Family.

Ottla was born in 1892, the youngest of Franz’s three sisters. Although there was an age difference of nine years, as she grew up the two siblings became very close. Franz was to write that ‘the love to the others notwithstanding,’ Ottla was ‘the dearest by far‘. In different ways, both Franz and Ottla rebelled against the bourgeois conventions and expectations of their Jewish merchant father, and supported each other in their struggles for independence.

Against her parents’ wishes but with Franz’s encouragement, Ottla decided she wanted to work in agriculture. In 1917, aged 25, she took over the farm of a member of her family in Zürau in Bohemia. Franz joined her there, helped in the gardens, and found an environment in which he could write. In 1918 he helped her identify possible agricultural colleges. He obtained catalogues and sought guidance as to which might be suitable and prepared to accept a female student. He even offered to pay the fees. Eventually Ottla became the first woman to study at the Friedland agricultural school.

Ottla’s two sisters, Elli and Valli, had gone along with their parents’ choice of an appropriate Jewish man to marry. However, Ottla was again not prepared to submit to her family’s wishes. Instead in July 1920 she married Josef David, a Czech Catholic. Franz once more supported her, writing that: ‘You know that you are doing something extraordinary and that it is extremely difficult to do the extraordinary well.’ Later he wrote again that ‘since between the two of us you are the more suitable one (to get married) you are doing it for us… In exchange, I am staying single for both of us.’

Equally, Ottla supported Franz in his own struggles. Above all, she recognised the importance of his writing. As well as moral support she offered him places where he could write in peace. He stayed in her flat in Prague and in the farm in Zürau, from which he wrote to his friend Max Brod that ‘Ottla carries me on her wings through a difficult world‘. And as his tuberculosis developed, she helped to persuade his employer to allow him time off work, and eventually early retirement (Franz wrote to her to thank her for ‘a terrific job’). Before his death in 1924 he got to know Ottla’s two daughters, and stayed in her family homes in Planá and Schelesen.

Marthe Bernard, who wrote extensively about Franz and translated many of this writings into French, commented that ‘The letters to Ottla reflect … a very, very close and affectionate relationship‘. And in one of his final letters to Ottla in October 1923, by which time his health was declining fast, his love and respect for his sister shines through:

We do not need to discuss whether you would disturb me. If everything else in the world were to disturb me – and it has almost reached that point – not you.’

Ottla’s independent spirit proved too much for her husband, and they eventually divorced. The exact circumstances of the divorce are not entirely clear, but it coincided with the Nazi occupation of Czechoslovakia. It seems very likely that one of Ottla’s motivations was to protect her husband and children from the dangers they faced with a Jewish wife and mother. In doing this however, she put herself at even greater risk, and in 1943 the Nazis deported her to the Terezín ghetto (Thereseinstadt in German).

Here she worked closely with orphaned children, including a group of Polish children who arrived emaciated and extremely frightened. In her moving last letter to her daughters in October 1943 she wrote that she had volunteered to accompany the children on what turned out to be the journey to Auschwitz. Here they – and she (aged just 50) – were murdered on arrival.

I have found Ottla’s story inspiring – she must have been a remarkable person. She also offers a profound reminder of the dangers of extreme right wing ideas becoming acceptable. Scapegoating particular groups of people blinds us to the immense human value of individuals like Ottla who, in Franz’s words, was  ‘pure, true and honest, (always able to balance) humility and pride, loyalty and independence, modesty and courage‘. Unsurprisingly, her story has also inspired a song.

Both of Franz’s other sisters, their husbands and most of their children also died in the death camps. However, Ottla’s daughters stayed safely with their father, in no small part thanks to Ottla’s self-sacrifice. They preserved the letters from Franz and these were published in German in 1974, and in English in 1982. In 2021 the Bodleian Library and the Deutsches Literaturarchiv in Marbach purchased them jointly. Unfortunately her letters to him have not survived. However, her letters to her husband and daughters leave us with the voice of a very special woman.

See also:

Letters to Ottla and the Family is published in English by Penguin and is available as an ebook.

A biography, Ottla Kafka: The tragic fate of Kafka’s favourite sister by Petr Balajka is available in Czech and German but not, to my knowledge, in English.

There is, though, a useful background paper: Wagenbach, K., & Marx, H. (1977). Franz and Ottla: Kafka’s Letters to His Sister. Journal of Modern Literature, 6(3), 437–445.
Tara Malone has researched the artists of Terezín, including Ottla’s time there: Ottla Kafka: Franz’s Lost Sister

BTO review of ‘A haven for farmland birds’

A while ago I sent a review copy of my book ‘A haven for farmland birds’ to the BTO (British Trust for Ornithology) and the review is now available via this link.

It’s a lovely review, written by the BTO’s Wader Project Officer, Paul Noyes, who concludes:

‘We are lucky to have people like John, who will spend long hours peering over hedgerows and creeping through ditches, watching for the great British natural capital we are all too often oblivious of (as the book’s final two pages may sadly indicate), and this lovely book is well worth the 144 whistle-stop pages.’

Reactions to ‘A haven for farmland birds’

I’ve been receiving some nice reactions to A haven for farmland birds. Mark Avery, former Conservation Director at the RSPB, wrote in his Sunday Book Review that:

‘The book is about farmland birds, that bunch of declining species whose overall numbers have more than halved in my lifetime and focuses on the author’s counts and observations in a small but rich area of the Cambridge green belt… One can’t help but like the author through reading his words – I did anyway. He is an enthusiast and part of the charm of the book is his growing knowledge, understanding and enthusiasm for the location and its wildlife. All field biologists tend to fall in love with their chosen study areas and species of interest – and quite right too!’

Duncan Grey, writing in Shelford Village News, commented:

‘Meed is a wise companion in a walk around the fields, showing us what we might otherwise have missed, explaining the changes of the influences of the seasons on bird feeding and migration and providing asides on everything from the history and geography to the migration of the albatross.’

I’ve also received encouraging feedback from readers, including ‘What a fascinating book’, ‘I never had imagined I could get so interested in grey partridges’ and ‘marvellous book’, while a former farmer commented that he ‘could not put it down’. Chris in Harrogate adds:

‘I have just finished reading your book – what an excellent achievement. I’m immensely impressed with your commitment, knowledge and expertise. I enjoyed the relating of your experiences as well as gaining a lot of knowledge about the birds and wildlife.’

I will be giving some talks about the book over the coming months: Friday, February 24th from 7pm in Rock Road Library, and September 25th to the Cambridge Local Wildlife Group. I have also prepared a video to accompany the book:

A haven for farmland birds is available from NHBS or my Bandcamp page.

Insurgent empire, by Priyamvada Gopal

When the Scottish explorer John Rae was posted by the Hudson’s Bay Company to arctic Canada, he very quickly recognised just how much he had to learn from the Cree and Inuit peoples about traveling and surviving in the hostile climate he would face. When Rae was tasked with finding what had happened to Lord Franklin’s expedition to find the Northwest Passage, his trust in and respect for the local people led him to accept their account of the expedition’s fate, which he repeated in his own report. In so doing, Rae drew condemnation from the British establishment – including Charles Dickens, who found it unimaginable that Rae had ‘failed’ to make the 10-12 day trek across the Arctic wastes to verify the story of ‘mere natives’.

So it did not come as a total surprise to me to read – in the second chapter of Priyamvada Gopal’s excellent book Insurgent Empire – that in the Jamaican uprising of 1865 Dickens had sided with the English governor, Eyre, who had ordered a brutal repression of demonstrators and the murder of a local politician. It did, though, come as some shock that a number of other supposedly progressive Victorians – including John Ruskin – had also supported Eyre. And by contrast, the Positivist thinkers Congreve and Harrison, bêtes noires of my university days, had taken the side of the anti-colonialists. The first part of Priya’s book shows how – when it comes to the Empire and colonisation – our Victorian ancestors were not always what we might expect.

I first met Priya through political activism. We were both involved in Campeace, an anti-war movement, at the time (if my memory serves me well) of the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, and later in supporting the student protests in 2010-11. I have always been impressed by the balanced, thoughtful way in which she speaks, and seize any opportunity I can to hear her talk in and around the university. I am proud to call her a friend and mentor, and had been awaiting the publication of Insurgent Empire with some anticipation.

Insurgent Empire focuses on specific moments of rebellion against British colonialism, and so John Rae does not feature in its pages. However, it is interesting that Wilfrid Blunt, the focus of Chapter 3, also saw himself as a student of a colonised people, in this case the Egyptians involved in the upraising of 1882. And this is the first key lesson of the book – that there was very much a two-way interchange between insurgents in the colonies and radicals in Britain – that terms like ‘liberty’ were not ‘gifted’ to the colonised, but forged in dialogue and eventually taken in struggle: indeed ‘the resistance of the periphery helped radicalise sections of the metropole’ and ‘ideas of freedom’ distinct from those of the free market economy were able to ‘make their claims heard’ (p448).

The second key lesson of Insurgent Empire is to challenge the extent to which people are obliged to accept the conventional wisdom of their time. Wilfrid Blunt is just one of a series of fascinating characters who came to see that behind the prevailing image of a benevolent empire lay an altogether different picture of aggressive self-interest and oppression. These people were able to unlearn the accepted view of empire – Blunt would eventually comment on how Britons were expected to ‘fall down as a nation and worship our own golden image in a splendid record of heroic deeds and noble impulses’. Others would go further and argue – perhaps a third key lesson – that British working people had more in common with those oppressed in the colonies than with their own ruling classes.

As Insurgent Empire moves into the twentieth century there is a change of focus. While many of the nineteenth century activists were British people who travelled to the colonies, recognised what was really happening, and fed this in to the debates at home, as the twentieth century unfolded activists from the colonies such as the Trinidadians C L R James and George Padmore increasingly came to London and became involved in – and often leading lights in – the struggle against colonialism. Priya’s characters, as she comments in the interview below, recognised their ‘moral responsibility’ to ally themselves with ‘those who are at the receiving end of inequality, exploitation and violence’.

Priya creates a highly original style of history writing – she interweaves brief but nonetheless gripping outlines of the rebellions and the oppression that inevitably followed with the human stories of those who were moved, challenged and radicalised by them. In the process we learn more both about the events themselves, and the lessons they may hold for us today.

Insurgent Empire makes an important contribution to understanding the British colonial past. At a time when myths of empire once more weigh upon current events – from curriculum design to the UK’s relationship with Europe – it becomes ever more pressing to imagine new ways in which we can learn from the past, separate myth from reality and move beyond feelings of pride or shame. We need to recognise both the realities of imperialism – and how fundamentally it helped to create the current world order – and the ways in which resistance in the colonies and in Britain interacted and helped to challenge the imperial project. Insurgent Empire offers some crucial pointers about how we – as activists, educators or citizens – can do this.

Insurgent Empire: Anticolonial Resistance and British Dissent by Priyamvada Gopal. Published 2019 by Verso. ISBN 9781784784126 https://www.versobooks.com/books/2965-insurgent-empire

Educated by Tara Westover

‘I’d never learned how to talk to people who weren’t like us – people who went to school and visited the doctor. Who weren’t preparing, every day, for the End of the World’.

There are many things I love about being a singer-songwriter – notably the rush of creativity when a new song comes, or the buzz after a concert that goes particularly well. But it also means that you meet some fascinating people.

I first met Tara Westover at our local music club in CB2, Cambridge, some five years ago, when she was completing her PhD at the university – shortly after, I now realise, one of the most difficult periods of her life. She rather unwisely offered to sing harmonies on some of my songs, an offer I could hardly refuse as she has one of the finest voices I have had the privilege to work with. We have since played many gigs together, and she has collaborated on my last two albums.

In quiet times during rehearsals, or on the way to or from concerts, she would tell me many tales from her astonishing and highly unusual childhood – growing up in a Mormon community in Idaho, in a survivalist family dominated by a charismatic but flawed father who spent his time – when not placing the family in mortal danger in his scrapyard – preparing for the end of the world.

But this could hardly prepare me for reading her remarkable memoir, Educated, published on February 20th by Hutchinson (in the UK – Random House in the US). The first part of the book describes Tara’s childhood and adolescence in the family home nestled under the mountain they called the Princess. To describe the family as ‘survivalist’ is somewhat misleading, as how Tara and her siblings survived their childhood is itself a miracle , confronted as they were by a succession of car crashes and workplace accidents, a refusal to counter any healthcare or medication beyond mother’s herbal remedies, a violent brother and non-existent ‘home schooling’.

There is one particularly stark moment when Tara finds her brother lying on the road side following a motorbike crash. He has suffered his third major head wound (the first two have left him a changed person), but when she phones her father he tells her to bring him home so that their mother can administer a few herbs. It’s an odd world where teenage rebellion takes the form of driving your brother to hospital.

It would be easy to conclude that Tara paints a bleak picture of her family. In fact she remains remarkably honest throughout. She is still able to talk of her love for her parents, to capture the wild beauty of her childhood home, and to paint a portrait of her father that is tremendously human, where his humour, his enthusiasm and his pride in Tara’s singing shine through his probably bi-polar delusions and paranoia. In the end she likens him to Don Quixote, a ‘zealous knight’ tilting at windmills, to whose warnings of doom ‘no one listened. They went about their lives in the summer sun.’

The second and third parts of the book describe the process through which Tara found her way into education, sought to come to terms with the wider world, and eventually gained a doctorate from Cambridge University. It’s a journey of both remarkable achievement but also some personal cost. At each step along the way she has faced a regular ‘twitch upon the thread’, as Waugh put it, from her home and family.

We all bear the scars of growing up, and spend much of our adult lives coming to terms with them. Educated is often a tough read, and it was painful to hear a good friend describe with such honesty how she responded to her brother’s abuse, her parents’ rejection, or the resulting family schism. It is also very moving indeed.

But above all, it’s a tremendous read and Tara has a real talent as a story teller – I found it very hard to put down. Here is a link to Tara’s website. You can order Educated from Heffers/Blackwells or, if you must, from Amazon.

Here are Tara and I performing Thessalonika at Cambridge Folk Club:

The photo of Tara was taken by Paul Stuart.

Hold on: Selected lyrics 2004–2014 now available

Learners First publications have now published a book of 32 of song my lyrics. Here’s the blurb:

In this selection of lyrics – written between 2004 and 2014 – John Meed explores the themes that have informed his songwriting – love and loss, belonging and exile, growing up and growing older, the unexpected inevitability of change.

The lyrics are taken from his first five albums: The children of the sea (2005), Powder of the stars (2007), When the music ends (2009), Pavilion Parade (2011) and The dust of time (2013).

‘Meed has a real way of telling a story in song’ – Trevor Raggatt
‘Meed’s songs are both thoughtful and thought-provoking’ – R2 Rock’n’reel

The book is available in three formats, all costing £5:

I have printed copies, fully illustrated – I will be selling these at gigs or you can order them online (https://johnmeed.bandcamp.com/merch/hold-on-selected-lyrics-2004-2014). If you order online you need to pay postage, but you get a free download of Rue Mouffetard!

There is also a fully illustrated ebook edition on the Apple ibooks store. This version additionally contains links to songs and videos. https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/hold-on/id937717330

There is an unillustrated Kindle edition from Amazon http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00P84H7B8