Dear Wesley,

I am enclosing this letter with the book I have sent you. The book will come as a surprise, I know, not merely because it is The Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka, but because it is from me, an old uncle you haven't heard from in five years.

But threads of conscience have been bothering me since your mother wrote three weeks ago and informed me that you were barely hanging on to a "D" average. That doesn't bother me too much; a "D" average means that you have a great many friends, but what does make me feel remorseful is that I have neglected you completely for so many years. Of course, I thought of you a year ago when your mother told me of your decision to attend an Ivy League school instead of coasting through one of our fine Florida universities, but to tell you the truth, I haven't thought of you since. I am trying to make up for it now with some sage, avuncular advice.

Examine the book. Observe how slim it is, how easy to read. It is set in ten-point type, the way all books should be printed. Although this edition was printed in 1946, and is not a first edition, it is worth two dollars more now than it was then. The only flaw is a small spot on Page 67. Because this is a very sad part of the story --where an apple has pierced Gregor's back -- you may think this blemish was caused by a tear falling onto the page. Such is not the case; it is a drop of gin from an overflowing martini.

There is a purpose in my sending you The Metamorphosis, although you might think that it is pointless at this stage; but as Kafka said, "We must break the frozen sea within us."

You are now in your sophomore year and it is time you became an expert in something. Inasmuch as you are not an athlete, and obviously not a scholar, I am recommending to you, out of my knowledge gained by 24 years in public relations, that you become an expert on Franz Kafka.

I offer you this advice with the same sincerity I give $10,000 retainers. To get by in this world, and to have the sharpened edge on his fellow men that means the difference between mediocrity and success, a man must be expert in at least one thing. Kafka may not sustain you throughout your entire life, but an extensive knowledge of his works will bring your average in college up to a "C" or possibly a "B" before you graduate into the Kafkaesque world. No teacher would dare give a "D" to a Kafka scholar.

Not only is it a simple matter to become an expert on Kafka, it is inexpensive. All of Kafka's books are in English now, and all of them are available in handsome, paperback editions. Recently, The Basic Kafka was published. It is basic, but not enough: you also need The Trial, The Castle, Amerika, The Diaries, and The Complete Stories. There are also three volumes of letters, but I advise you to save these for graduate school, when you must begin work on an M.B.A. Today, you can obtain this entire list for less than thirty dollars. Now let me impress you: With this rack of books purchased and in plain sight in your dormitory room at college, you do not even have to open a single one of them to obtain a "C"average by the end of the year!

Such is the quiet power of Franz Kafka in an academic setting. The mere fact that you have these books in your room will spread to every corner of the campus. The set- ting, however, is still incomplete. There is a scene in The Trial where K., the protagonist, buys three heathscapes from Titorelli, the court painter. It isn't possible for you to go right out and buy three heathscapes for your room, but for three dollars apiece you can get one of the fine arts students at school to paint you three of them. If you know a female art student you can probably get them done for nothing. Unfortunately, none of the do-it-yourself painting kits feature heathscapes. Heathscapes are quite depressing; two gnarled trees in the foreground, a patch of dirty gray-green grass, and a sun at its nadir. Three of these paintings, exactly alike, hanging in a row in your room, will speed your reputation as a Kafka expert. They will also serve to remind you how bleak your prospects will be if you get bounced out of college.

Next you must read all of Kafka's books. This will take time, but you have three more years to go in college, and the short list will do. After reading The Metamorphosis, read The Trial and then The Castle. Most readers give up halfway through The Castle, so when you finish it you will be a front runner. Many Kafka experts specialize by reading only one book over and over again, but this is the cowardly way, and not for you.

Always carry a Kafka book with you from class to class. By reading a page at a time you will eventually get through them all.

As soon as you have read at least three books, write an article on some fragment of Kafka's works and have it published in the school magazine. At this early stage I know it sounds difficult even to think about writing an article on a man you haven't read yet, but Kafka experts have to write about him. In fact, after reading his books, you won't be able to prevent yourself from writing about Kafka.

To get started, choose any phrase that interests you and explain it as well as you can, giving it your own interpretation. Your interpretation will be valid, and will not brook contradiction. Kafka's "The Hunger Artist" interested me at one time and I wrote seven different interpretations for my own elucidation. Every one of them was valid.

You won't have to bribe the editor of your college magazine to publish your article; he will be delighted to get it. Everything written about Kafka is eventually published somewhere. Even if I were to send a copy of this letter to a newspaper it would be published immediately.

After the publication of your article you will be invited to join the college literary societies. Join them, by all means, but do not take an active part in their activities. This calls for some preparation, however. It will be necessary for you to memorize several quotations from Kafka's works. To avoid being elected to any office a good quotation is, "One must not cheat anyone, not even the world of its victory." Or you could refuse just as gracefully by saying, "Beyond a certain point there is no return. This point has to be reached."

It will be better for your studies if you do not join any of the fraternities. To turn down the many requests you will receive after your article appears, quote: "What is gayer than believing in a household god?" You will, of course, lose some friends this way, but you will have ample time for your studies. Kafka has quotations to fit every situation; however, they must be delivered dead-pan to obtain maximum effectiveness. When you reach your senior year it will be best to quote Kafka in German... but I'm getting too far ahead for you, I'm afraid.

Your work is cut out for you, Wesley, but you will never regret the effort. As Kafka stated in In the Penal Colony, "Up till now a few things still had to be set by hand, but from this moment it works all by itself."

Fraternally,

Uncle Charles