Walk with Kafka in Prague

The Workers' Accident Insurance Company for the Kingdom of Bohemia (AUVA)

Na Poříčí 19, Nové Město

The neo-baroque building of the AUVA (Arbeiter-Unfall-Versicherungsanstalt für das Königreich Böhmen in Prag) was built according to plans of the Prague architect Alfons Wertmüller, who was also the author of the New German Theater in Prague. Kafka gained the work in this institution thank to his classmate Ewald Felix Příbram, who's father had been president of the Company. Kafka worked from eight until two in the afternoon. He soon developed into an experienced expert in insurance despite his continual complaints about the hated duties in the work. Kafka was entrusted with representing the Company in court, asked to produce statistics, to independently conduct correspondence, and to attend to accident prevention and job safety which was still in the very beginning stages of development. To Max Brod, he wrote: “In my four districts – aside from my other tasks – people fall off scaffolding like drunks, into machines, all beams tip over, all embankments loosen up and begin to slide, all ladders slip and tumble, whatever one hands up to someone, comes crashing down, whatever one hands down, one falls over oneself. And you get a headache from these young girls in porcelain factories who continually throw themselves down the stairs with towering mountains of dishes in their hands.”

Max Brod Max Brod wrote: “When we both obtained a longed-for job with ‘single cycle’, luck had it that our path home from the office was the same one. Thus, each day I waited for Franz at two o’clock at the Powder Tower – how well and in detail I was able to study the old artfully carved double Reich-eagle in the gable of the revenue office on the corner of the Hybernská Street, because Franz always came later than I, he still had business to finish or got lost in a conversation with a colleague – with rumbling stomach I patrolled up and down, but my irritation was soon forgotten, when the slender, tall figure of my friend appeared, most times with an embarrassed smile, that was supposed to register rather than express great dismay, yes, even terror at his long tardiness. At the same time he held his hand pressed to his heart. ‘I’m innocent’, he wanted to convey with this gesture. And more than that he was approaching me at a fast pace, almost a run, so that one really couldn’t direct any words of reproach at him. On the walk through the Celetná Street together to the Old Town Square we had an endless amount of things to tell each other. And standing in front of Franz’ house, we still hadn’t said the last word. And in the afternoon or evening we were together again.”

Kafka’s office was in the topmost floor of the building completed in 1896, later on the first floor. On the ground floor there were a book store and the wine room “At the White Boot”, which was the name of the previous building that had stood in that spot since the 14th century. Across was Cinema Elite, which Kafka – a film lover – occasionally visited.

Pasová fotografie Kafky z roku 1912 At work at first Kafka was attached to the pension-section of the department dealing with technical aspects of insurance. It was headed by Chief Inspector Eugen Pfohl. After the change-over in 1918 Eugen Pfohl, like the other Germans in the leadership of the AUVA, had to leave and was replaced by a Czech. Kafka was able to remain in what was now a completely Czech company due perhaps to the efforts of his Czech colleagues at work. Under the new given circumstances he had to depend on his passable knowledge of Czech. During his twelve-year occupational career in the AUVA he was promoted many times, first in 1910 to planner, three years later to vice-secretary, in 1920 to secretary, and 1922, shortly before his retirement, one step further to chief secretary, the last promotion was granted to help him obtain better social benefits.

In 1912, Kafka wrote to Felice Bauer: “I, too, am capable of laughing, Felice. You should know that I’m actually known for being a great giggler… It even happened during one of the formal meetings with our president… that I began to laugh, and how! It would take too long for me to explain to you how important this man is, just trust me that he is extraordinarily distinguished and that a normal clerk does not imagine him living on earth but in the clouds. We – two colleagues and I – had just been promoted and we were supposed to thank the president in our formal black suits… The most venerable of us three – I was the youngest – was delivering his thank you speech quickly, rationally, energetically, just like his character. The president was listening, poised as usual for formal occasions, and it reminded me slightly of our emperor’s bearing during receptions and it was actually… extremely comical. He had his legs lightly crossed, his left hand closed in a fist laying on the farthest corner of the table, his head leaning in a way that his white beard bent on his chest, and on top of it all his belly, which was not too big but still prominent, was rising and falling. I must have been in an uncontrollable mood… It wasn’t exactly called for that I should sporadically burst into laughter, even though I could have pretended that I was coughing from an irritated throat; what’s more, the president hadn’t looked up… But then after the speech of my colleague ended, the president lifted his head and for a moment I was too terrified to laugh because now he could see my expression, and he could have easily realized that the laughter which had regrettably escaped my lips, was not coughing at all. When he began his own speech, again the typical, expected, royally shallow, totally senseless and pointless speech, delivered in that deep stentorian voice… I lost all hope that I could hold it in. At first I laughed only at the subtle jokes, which the president tossed in here and there; there is a rule, however, that at most one can only crack a smile at such jokes, and I was already laughing my head off. I could see how my colleagues were paralyzed from the fear that they would be infected… but I couldn’t help myself, I didn’t even try to turn away or cover my mouth, in my helplessness I just kept staring into the president’s face, unable to turn my face away from him… Of course it snowballed and I wasn’t just laughing at the jokes… and no one knew what I was really laughing at anymore; embarrassment spread through the room, only the president remained untouched like a great man accustomed to so much in the world… If we could have slipped out at that moment, if only the president had shortened his speech a little, everything would have turned out well enough… as it usually happens with seemingly impossible situations, the four of us involved would have agreed to keep quiet about it. But unfortunately, the hitherto unmentioned colleague (a nearly 40year old man with a childish, yet bearded face, who also drinks beer devoutly) began a quick unexpected speech. He is a man with a hot-blooded, unfulfilled temperament, able to passionately – and endlessly – defend all of the generally accepted positions. The boredom of his speeches would be unbearable, were it not for his passion, which is funny and endearing. And now the president in all innocence said something that didn’t sit too well with my colleague… in short he thought the right time had appeared to present a differing opinion and persuade the president… Now when he babbled something preposterous as he was gesticulating with his arms… it was too much for me. The world which I had been imagining completely disappeared before my eyes and I started laughing loudly and rudely, as heartfelt as only children behind their school desks can laugh. Everything went quiet and finally my laughter and I were the distinct center of attention. At the same time, while I was laughing my knees were shaking in fear… Beating my right hand to my chest, partly as penance (awaiting my day of reckoning) and partly to release the laughter trapped in my chest, I gave various excuses for laughing… Naturally, even the president himself was confused now, and out of the urge to smooth everything over… he made some comment that provided a socially acceptable explanation for my howling – I think it related to some joke he had made earlier. Then he released us in a hurry. Undefeated but deathly unhappy, still laughing I limped out of the room first. The incident was alleviated for the most part by a letter that I wrote to the president right afterwards, and also through the president’s son, whom I know well… Maybe I did this only so that someday I could prove to you that I can also laugh. “