Löwy tells a story about a married friend who lives in Postin, a small town near Warsaw, and who feels isolated in his progressive interests and therefore unhappy. ‘Postin, is that a large city?’ ‘This large,’ he holds out the palm of his hand to me. It is covered by a rough yellow-brown glove and looks like a wasteland.
Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka: 1910-1923
