There was definitely something going on in Prague in 1911. That is the year that Albert Einstein moved his family from Zurich to accept his first full professorship at Prague's German University. When they arrived on April Fool's day of that year they were entering a city rich with Jewish legend as exemplified by the tale of the Golem.1 It is also the year that Franz Kafka wrote his first novel, The Judgement. 1911 was a turning point for both Einstein and Kafka. For Einstein it was his breakthrough understanding of how gravity makes the universe work and for Kafka it was the creation of a new approach to literature and human understanding.
By viewing the positioning of Einstein and Kafka as figures on the cusp of monumental breakthroughs, we can capture the essence of Einstein in Kafkaland’s imaginative blend of science and existential philosophy. The link between Einstein’s revolution in understanding gravity and Kafka’s transformation of literature is especially intriguing, and it establishes a thematic connection between the two minds that Krimstein explores in his book.
Einstein’s breakthrough understanding of gravity came with his development of the General Theory of Relativity, which he introduced in 1915, but which he conceived during his year in Prague. This theory fundamentally redefined gravity, contrasting with the earlier Newtonian and Abrahamic views.
Before Einstein, gravity was understood primarily through Newton’s law of universal gravitation: gravity was seen as a force between two objects, with mass exerting an attractive force over a distance. In this framework, space and time were considered absolute and separate entities. Paul Ehrenfest and Max Abraham, contemporaries of Einstein, worked within this classical understanding. Abraham, in particular, had developed a mathematical model for gravity that fit within Newtonian mechanics but was not consistent with Einstein’s emerging theory of special relativity. He believed gravity acted instantaneously, like Newton’s model.
Einstein, however, transformed this concept by proposing that gravity is not a force in the traditional sense. Instead, in his General Theory of Relativity, gravity is the result of the curvature of spacetime caused by massive objects. In simple terms, mass warps the fabric of spacetime, and objects move along the curves created by this distortion. This was revolutionary because it unified space and time into a single entity—spacetime—and showed that time itself could be affected by gravity, leading to phenomena like time dilation.
In contrast, Abraham’s mathematical renderings, while sophisticated, lacked the framework to explain such effects. Einstein’s vision offered a more comprehensive model that could predict new phenomena like gravitational waves and black holes.
In Einstein in Kafkaland, this revolutionary idea of gravity is juxtaposed with Kafka’s surreal, disorienting narratives, as both Einstein and Kafka dealt with forces—whether physical or psychological—that shape human experience in profound ways.
Einstein’s revolutionary understanding of gravity is explored as a force that warps spacetime itself, reshaping how we experience reality. This is paralleled with Kafka's surreal narratives, where characters often find themselves trapped in strange, disorienting worlds. Just as Einstein showed that time and space are not fixed but bend and twist under the influence of gravity, Kafka’s stories reflect a psychological and existential bending of reality, where logic and normalcy give way to absurdity and confusion. Krimstein cleverly intertwines these two perspectives, showing how both Einstein and Kafka were grappling with invisible forces that distort the world around us—whether physical or existential.
Although Spinoza is not mentioned in Krimstein’s book I find it fascinating how Einstein’s breakthrough mirrors Spinoza's concept of substance. For Spinoza, substance is the one fundamental reality—everything else, including mind and body, are simply expressions of this underlying unity. Einstein, as a known Spinozist, likely saw his theory of spacetime in a similar light: a single, unified fabric where time and space are not separate entities but aspects of a deeper, interconnected reality. Just as Spinoza saw everything as expressions of a single, infinite substance, Einstein’s theory suggested that all objects and events are shaped by the curvature of spacetime. To my mind Krimstein’s book seems to bring out this philosophical connection, showing how Einstein’s scientific vision was deeply influenced by Spinoza’s metaphysical ideas.
Kafka also expressed an interest in Spinoza, though it was more subtle and complex compared to Einstein's explicit admiration. Kafka had a deep intellectual curiosity and engaged with various philosophical texts, including Spinoza’s work. His personal library included Spinoza’s Ethics, and though Kafka never wrote extensively about Spinoza, scholars have noted parallels between their ideas.
Kafka's writing, much like Spinoza's philosophy, often grapples with themes of determinism, alienation, and the search for meaning within an indifferent or abstract reality. Spinoza’s concept of an impersonal, deterministic universe—where human emotions and experiences are part of a larger, unchangeable order—resonates with Kafka’s depictions of individuals trapped in bureaucratic, often absurd systems that seem beyond their control. While Kafka’s engagement with Spinoza may not have been overt, the philosophical underpinnings of Spinoza’s ideas about substance, determinism, and the nature of reality find echoes in Kafka’s existential struggles and his characters' often futile attempts to assert autonomy in a seemingly indifferent world.
In my reading of Einstein in Kafkaland, this subtle connection adds an intriguing layer, linking Kafka’s world of existential absurdity with Spinoza's deterministic universe, all while tying in Einstein's Spinozism as he sought to understand the deeper laws governing reality.
The fact that Einstein and Kafka were both in Prague at the same time, living in the same city steeped in Jewish culture and intellectual fervor, yet only had one recorded encounter, sets the stage for Krimstein’s imaginative exploration of what might have been. The recorded instance of Kafka attending Einstein’s introductory lecture on May 24 highlights a real-world point of intersection between these two towering figures—one grounded in the scientific revolution of relativity, the other in the surreal, existential narratives that would define modern literature.
Krimstein’s decision to build a story around this moment, imagining how their worlds might have collided more profoundly, is an inspired leap. The known fact that they shared the same space once makes the “what if” of Krimstein's story all the more compelling, weaving together the abstract forces of Kafka’s inner world and Einstein’s external, physical theories of the universe. In a sense, Einstein in Kafkaland bridges the gap between science and existentialism, with the Prague backdrop adding a mystical, Jewish cultural dimension that further enriches their shared narrative.
Krimstein masterfully uses the concept of gravity as both a scientific and metaphorical force throughout Einstein in Kafkaland, blending Einstein’s groundbreaking theory with the surreal and often absurd realities that Kafka explored in his writing. Gravity plays a literal role in the story, drawing on the historical defenestrations of Prague—a city marked by political upheaval and the physical act of throwing people out of windows. This theme of falling, however, is not limited to historical events. Krimstein cleverly layers it with the metaphor of "falling down a rabbit hole," an allusion to Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland.
This narrative device, rooted in Einstein’s theory of gravity, mirrors the disorienting experience of entering unfamiliar realms, much like Kafka’s characters who often find themselves trapped in bizarre, nightmarish situations. As Einstein redefined how we understand gravity—not just as a force but as the warping of spacetime—Krimstein extends this idea, showing how both Einstein and Kafka wrestled with invisible, overwhelming forces. For Einstein, it was the cosmos; for Kafka, it was the existential weight of bureaucracy, fate, and human limitation.
The use of the rabbit hole metaphor amplifies the story’s surreal quality, blending the intellectual and the absurd in a way that feels both playful and profound. In this imaginative narrative, Krimstein shows how these two towering figures were grappling with the same basic question: what happens when we fall—whether through spacetime or into the depths of our own minds?
Krimstein’s narrative is the product of meticulous research, spanning years of study and immersion in the lives of both Einstein and Kafka. He skillfully weaves together historical facts and philosophical insights, drawing on countless books and articles, yet never allowing the weight of his research to burden the story. Instead, Krimstein delivers a narrative that feels light and engaging, capturing the intellectual gravity of his subjects without overwhelming the reader. His ability to blend deep knowledge with a playful, surrealist tone makes the story both intellectually stimulating and accessible.
The artwork mirrors this approach. Krimstein’s loose, yet detailed, illustrations serve as a playful counterpoint to the text, adding layers of whimsy to the complex ideas at play. His drawings never feel overly rigid or formal, instead matching the fluidity and unpredictability of the narrative. The art itself becomes an extension of the storytelling—offering visual interpretations that are as imaginative and thought-provoking as the narrative. In this way, Einstein in Kafkaland is a visual and literary journey that invites readers to fall down their own rabbit holes of thought, following Einstein and Kafka through a world where gravity, in every sense, is relative.
The best known Golem folktale is the Golem of Prague, the Protector of the Jewish community, created from clay or mud, and animated through mystical rituals.