Fasting: The art of abstention and the cost of recognition that never comes

Source: Opening: A world that lost interest in the art of fasting

"In recent decades, interest in professional fasting has declined significantly. Once it was profitable to stage such large performances under one's own management, but today this is impossible. We live in a different world now."

(Franz Kafka, "A Hunger Artist", 1922)

Explanation: The story: Kafka's hunger artist and the final confession

In 1922, a year before his death, Kafka published the story "A Hunger Artist." The story depicts a man whose profession is to fast, sitting in a cage before a curious audience and eating nothing for forty days. But the world changed—people lost interest in the art of fasting. The artist, feeling misunderstood, continues to fast even when there is no one left watching, until he starves to death. Moments before dying, he confesses: "I couldn't find food that suited me. If I had, believe me, I wouldn't have made a spectacle of it and I would have eaten just like everyone else."

Perspective: Commentary: The art of suffering and the search for recognition

Fasting as art, as a profession, is the craziest idea Kafka ever conceived—and at the same time, the most piercing. This artist doesn't use a paintbrush, stone, or musical notes; his medium is abstention. And the audience? They don't believe him. "He's surely cheating, eating at night when no one is looking." That is the essence of fasting—no one can see what isn't happening. What we have here is an invisible work of art, an artist sacrificing himself for something no one appreciates.

And his death? He died because he couldn't find food he liked, and also because he wanted recognition from those around him; right up to his death, he wanted them to understand, for the world to see the greatness of his art. But fasting, like loneliness, like pain, cannot be transferred. You can talk about it, but no one is going to applaud art like that. Kafka wasn't writing about a man who fasts; he was writing about anyone who thinks their suffering will make them great, and about the realization, arriving far too late, that nobody ever promised it would.

Going Deeper: Today: When fasting becomes an obsession in an age of abundance

A 2007 study in the journal Appetite examined a clinical phenomenon known as "orthorexia nervosa"—an obsession with "healthy" eating to the point of self-destruction. Like the hunger artist, patients choose to restrict themselves to an extremely narrow selection of "proper" foods, so narrow that they are practically starving themselves. The difference? They convince themselves that it's healthy. The irony is brilliant: in a world of abundance, the twenty-first-century artist is someone who chooses not to eat out of considerations of "inner aesthetics" rather than art. Patients report: "I just can't eat that"—they have internalized the hunger artist's cage.

Culture: Cinema: Babette's Feast and the uplifting power of food

In 1987, the film Babette's Feast won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. A Parisian refugee arrives in a remote village in nineteenth-century Denmark. The villagers are ascetics, refusing to enjoy the pleasures of life and food, until Babette, who won the lottery, prepares an exquisite, lavish meal for the entire village. Babette's feast dismantles their mistrust and [superstitions](https://he.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%95%D7%A0%D7%94_%D7%98%D7%A4%D7%9C%D7%94), uplifting them physically and spiritually. Old grievances are forgotten, ancient loves rekindled, and faith in the human spirit pulls up a chair to the table. Fasting from food, contends screenwriter and director Gabriel Axel, is neither empowering nor impressive; it is food, rather, that elevates.