
In 1925, Max Brod convinced the small avant-garde Berlin publisher Verlag die Schmiede to publish The Trial, which Brod prepared for publication from Kafka's unfinished manuscript.

(from the Postscript to the first edition of The Trial) In all honesty I must confess that this one fact of the literary and ethical value of what I am publishing would have been enough to make me decide to do so, definitely, finally, and irresistibly, even if I had had no single objection to raise against the validity of Kafka's last wishes. Anthony David Skinner in the preparation of this note.)My decision simply and solely on the fact that Kafka's unpublished work contains the most wonderful treasures, and, measured against his own work, the best things he has written. (I would like to acknowledge the scholarly assistance given by Professor Mark Anderson and Dr.

We do know, however, that Brod disregarded his friend's request and devoted great energy to making sure that all of Kafka's works-his three unfinished novels, his unpublished stories, diaries, and letters-would appear in print. We will never know if Kafka really meant for Brod to do what he asked Brod believed that it was Kafka's high artistic standards and merciless self-criticism that lay behind the request, but he also believed that Kafka had deliberately asked the one person he knew would not honor his wishes (because Brod had explicitly told him so).


These famous words written to Kafka's friend Max Brod have puzzled Kafka's readers ever since they appeared in the postscript to the first edition of The Trial, published in 1925, a year after Kafka's death. in the way of diaries, manuscripts, letters (my own and others'), sketches, and so on, to be burned unread. “Dearest Max, my last request: Everything I leave behind me.
