In a Jewish Telegraphic Agency blog published in July, literary scholar Seth Rogoff lamented the vacuity of a generation whose social media posts proliferate with tributes and memes in homage to the early 20th century Czech writer and artist Franz Kafka, but which has not read his writings. It’s not just the young who find Kafka tough, even though the worlds of his novels and stories are still terrifying to people of all ages, for all sorts of reasons, in 2025. Kafka continues to “get us” through narratives of individuals who are punished for unknown reasons. They suffer from horrendous afflictions, get convicted and thrown into prison, and are subjected to a catalogue of persecutions: but why?

Although Kafka, who wrote in German, willed that his personal papers be destroyed, his executor, literary critic Max Brod, did not do so. Parts of his estate were sold to public and private collections in the years before a court determined that the state of Israel and the National Library rightfully owned what remained. Much of it has been digitized and is now available online.

Ongoing exhibits which opened last year during the centenary of Kafka’s death can be seen in Jerusalem, New York, and Berlin. These shows ask questions and reveal possible answers by offering insights into his work and his legacy, which informs all branches of the arts, and from day to day, adds nuance to our own lives.

The study of copious materials including manuscripts, correspondence, photographs, notebooks and drawings have dispelled some negative perceptions of Kafka’s personality. Although he suffered from a debilitating and fatal case of tuberculosis and experienced painful emotional conflicts, his government work earned the gratitude of many people that he helped. He regularly spent enjoyable at a café with friends that included philosopher Martin Buber and attended the theater. He experienced many aspects of romantic love. His ability to write was hampered by the noise and chaos of the apartment he shared with his family, with whom he was often at odds.

Running through May, the Israel National Library’s “Kafka: Metamorphosis of an Author” shines the light on the Kafka Archives, materials which have never been exhibited. Including the manuscript for his unfinished 1914 novella, “Amerika (The Man Who Disappeared),” illustrated with his own drawings, as well as important correspondence, diaries and photos, the show highlights Kafka’s Zionist affinities, revealed through his letters, and the notebooks in which he recorded the notes for his Hebrew lessons. Also on view are contemporary artworks in various media, informed by the “Kafkaesque.” Will those who visit “Metamorphosis of an Author” emerge with more questions and less understanding? Curator Stefan Litt admits: “This could happen, with Kafka.”

New York’s Morgan Library and Museum is also hosting a Franz Kafka exhibit, featuring artifacts and documents on loan from the Bodleian Library’s collection, acquired from Kafka’s heirs in England. On exhibit are more of the Hebrew notebooks, Kafka’s postcards mailed to his sister, family photos and the manuscripts for “The Metamorphosis” and “The Castle.” Similar in concept to the National Library’s overview, the installation also features Andy Warhol’s iconic portrait of the author, and other pictures that have been influenced by or are about Kafka. An April 9 lecture by academic Nahma Sandrow will be devoted to Kafka’s admiration for and literary references to Yiddish plays.

The Berlin Jewish Museum’s “Access Kafka” exhibit hones in on an elemental, yet constant motif in Kafka’s work—the freedom of and the prohibitions imposed on exiting, entering or perhaps remaining in place—that literally opens the door on the ways that readers transfer the world of Prague in 1917 to that of our own time.

As “Access Kafka” curators note: “Questions of admission and affiliation are a recurring motif in Kafka’s literary texts. His unsettling descriptions of disorientation, surveillance and meaningless rules are relevant in a different way today than they were in Kafka’s era: the boundaries between private and public spheres are blurring in our age of widespread digitization, in which social networks, artificial intelligence and algorithms control access anonymously.”

Here, performance art, collage and constructions, paintings and sculptures spanning the years from 1936 to 2024 expand on Kafka’s treatment of access, and at times, overlap with his ideas.  Essays in the illustrated German and English exhibit catalogue bring together all elements of the show for online viewers.

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Cheryl Kempler is an art and music specialist who works in the B’nai B’rith International Curatorial Office and writes about history and Jewish culture for B’nai B’rith Magazine. To view some of her additional content, click here.