‘Everything is so dirty here,’ said Josef K.,
shaking his head, and before he could take the books, the woman wiped the dust
off with her apron. Josef K. picked up the book that lay nearest to him and
opened it; an indecent picture met his eyes. A man and a woman were sitting
naked on a sofa, the man’s obscene intention was obvious, but his drawing was
so clumsy that ultimately nothing could be seen but the man and woman, sitting
there in excessively solid bodies and in too upright a posture to approach each
other. Josef K. did not look at any more of the book, but just opened the
second one at its title page; it was a novel entitled: What Grete Suffered from
Her Husband, Hans. ‘So this is the sort of law books they study here,’ said Josef
K., ‘this is the sort of person sitting in judgment over me.’
When he read this passage, he laughed.
Surprisingly…, Franz K. is known as a writer whose works are very dark, bitter,
and absurd, full of existential anxiety about uncertainty and helplessness.
However, it is precisely in such situations that humor often slips, a bitter
one. Franz K. may have laughed because he realized how ridiculous and ironic
the situation he described in The Trial was. Although the story is serious and
suspenseful, there are moments where the absurdity of life and bureaucracy that
he describes is so ridiculous.
When he noticed my presence sitting at a
distance, he immediately approached me. His face was friendly, a smile adorned
his face with eyes that stared sharply. His nose was long and his ears were
like bat ears. Fragile, not handsome, and maybe he was often the target of
bullying when he was still at school, because of his antique appearance. Maybe
because of his appearance too he had a heavy sense of inferiority, both towards
women and other men.
Even more than his low self-esteem, he blamed
himself for all the problems in his relationships with others. In his
relationship with his strict, authoritarian and abusive father, he blamed
himself for not being able to live up to his father's standards and for feeling
emotionally weak.
He broke off his engagement to Felice Bauer
twice, feeling unable to cope with the demands of marriage and family life. He
blamed himself for this inability. He often felt unprepared for a serious
relationship.
The fragile, spineless man then shook my hand,
his hand feeling soft, his fingers long and slender, befitting someone who
wrote a lot. From these fingers were born his novels full of bitterness,
meaninglessness, anxiety and helplessness, such as The Trial.
I
opened the conversation:
“The part of the novel that you read is really
silly and ridiculous, for Josef K. who is currently being detained by the
court. Until then he couldn't understand why he who was innocent was being
detained. It started one morning when out of the blue he was detained by the
police when he had just woken up in bed; ‘Someone must have been telling lies
about Josef K., he knew he had done nothing wrong but, one morning, he was
arrested.’ So is the horrendous opening of the novel The Trial.
He did not know what the charges were. When he
then sneaked into the courthouse to look for evidence or clues to defend
himself, on the bookshelves filled with collections of books and court records
he found the book with the indecent picture. This shows how ridiculous the
justice system that ensnared him was. This trial is a comedy.”
Franz added, smilingly:
“Listen also to this: ‘In the courtroom, the
Judge turned to Josef K. with the tone of someone who knows his facts and said,
‘you are a house painter?’ ‘No,’ said K., ‘I am the chief clerk in a large
bank.’ This reply was followed by laughter among the right hand faction down in
the hall, it was so hearty that K. couldn't stop himself joining in with it.
Then Josef K. responded to the judge's mistake
and said; ‘Your question, My Lord, as to whether I am a house painter - in fact
even more than that, you did not ask at all but merely imposed it on me - is
symptomatic of the whole way these proceedings against me are being carried
out. Perhaps you will object that there are no proceedings against me. You will
be quite right, as there are proceedings only if I acknowledge that there are."
I responded:
“Josef K. stopped speaking and looked down into
the hall. He had spoken sharply, more sharply than he had intended, but he had
been quite right. It should have been rewarded with some applause here and
there but everything was quiet, they were all clearly waiting for what would
follow, perhaps the quietness was laying the ground for an outbreak of activity
that would bring this whole affair to an end.”
Franz:
"There is no doubt, ‘Josef said quietly, ‘that
there is some enormous organisation determining what is said by this court. In
my case this includes my arrest and the examination taking place here today, an
organisation that employs policemen who can be bribed, oafish supervisors and
judges of whom nothing better can be said than that they are not as arrogant as
some others.”
I said:
“Josef K. then met a tough lawyer suggested by
his uncle, named Huld. However, it turns out that Huld is old and sicky. He
spent most of his time in bed, and his weak physical condition made him
dependent on his nurse. And, he preferred to talk at length about how
complicated the legal system is and how difficult Josef K's case is.”
Franz:
"Yes, even the nurse, Leni, was more
helpful than Huld..."
I said:
“Yes, this Leni is a warm and intimate nurse... even from the first time they met ‘she took
Josef K's hand and led him to the door, her fingers were long and thin, but
also warm and dry, and they held him tightly. ‘Come along,' she said, and then,
as they were standing in the doorway, she added: 'You see, I have a little
defect, my fingers are webbed.' She
spread them apart to show him, and indeed, between the fingers, there was a
thin membrane stretching almost to the second joint.”
Franz:
"Yes, Leni is very friendly towards Josef
K, she is interested in having an affair with him... without hesitation she
kissed him when they first met and seemed to really care about Josef K's
situation."
I said:
“Yes, but Leni advised Josef K. to just admit
his mistake ‘You can’t defend yourself against this court, you just have to
confess. So, confess the next chance you get. Only then do you have a chance of
escaping, only then. But even that’s impossible without outside help, though
you needn’t worry about getting that, I’ll help you myself.’
This quote shows that Leni advised Josef K. to
admit his guilt, as the only way to ‘escape’ the unfair court system. However,
this is inappropriate advice and does not provide a real solution.”
Franz:
"Right, Josef K. does not even know his
mistake..., how can he admit it...?”
I said:
“Leni then gave advice: ‘The lawyer,’ her boss named Huld, ‘is doing
everything he can. The court is very difficult to influence, you shouldn’t
expect too much too soon. But the lawyer is certainly doing everything he can.‘
But in reality, the lawyer, who is decrepit and sick in bed, doesn't help much,
he just chats about the court system. “
Franz:
“Huld said:
‘The court is impervious to proof. It doesn’t matter what you do or
don’t do; the court will reach its own conclusions regardless.”
I said:
“Then, knowing nothing better to do, Josef K.
met a painter, Titorelli, who was said to have had many connections with people
inside the court. He even lived in the
courtroom, and painted many court officials, so he could claim that he had a
fairly close relationship with the judges. Josef K. expected Titorelli to help
him by relying on his relationship with the judge who tried him. So, he
functions like a broker, more or less so”
Franz:
“Titorelli said: ‘ It’s not easy to defend
someone in this court, but it’s not entirely hopeless either. The outcome
depends on many factors, most of which are beyond our control.
The court is infinitely corrupt... It’s not
just a question of bribing the lower officials, but of bribing the whole
system, from top to bottom.’
I said:
“It does seem there is no hope for Josef K.
even though he is innocent. He was helpless against the walls of the court.
Even the priest he meets in the cathedral in the Old City of Prague, who
identifies himself as a "keeper of the law" and says he was assigned
by the court to speak with Josef K., turns out to be part of the same court
system that framed Josef K., although he seems more thoughtful and reflective.”
Franz:
“The priest told Josef K. a parable entitled "Before the
Law", which describes a man from the village who tried to enter the door
of the law but was blocked by the door guard.
This parable reflects the impossibility of
understanding or accessing the law, as well as the powerlessness of individuals
in the face of an unreasonable system.”
I said:
“Yes, the doorman told the man that the man
couldn't come in at the moment, but might be able to come in later. The doorman
also explains that there are many other doors behind it, each guarded by
increasingly tough and intimidating guards.
The man from the village decided to wait at the
door, hoping that one day he would be allowed to enter. He waited for years,
trying to persuade the doorman in various ways, including giving him gifts as
bribes.”
Franz:
“The doorman then said: ‘I accept your gift so
that you do not feel you have left anything undone."
I said :
“The parable tells further: ‘During these many
years the man fixes the gatekeeper almost continuously. He forgets about the
other gatekeepers, and this first one seems to him the only obstacle to his
entry into the law. He curses his bad luck, loudly and recklessly in the early
years, later, as he grows old, he only grumbles to himself. He becomes
childish, and since in his long study of the gatekeeper he has come to know
even the fleas in his fur collar, he asks the fleas to help him and to change
the gatekeeper’s mind. Finally, his eyes grow dim and he does not know whether
it is really getting darker or whether his eyes are only deceiving him. But in
the darkness he can now perceive a radiance that streams immortally from the
door of the law. Now his life is nearing its end.”
Franz:
“All that he has experienced during the whole
time of his sojourn condenses in his mind into one question, which he has never
yet put to the gatekeeper. He beckons the gatekeeper, since he can no longer
raise his stiffening body. The gatekeeper has to bend down to him, for the
difference in size between them has altered greatly to the man’s disadvantage.
'What do you want to know now?' asks the gatekeeper. 'You are insatiable.'
'Everyone strives to reach the law,' says the man, 'how does it happen, then, that
in all these years no one but me has requested admittance?' The gatekeeper sees
that the man is already at the end of his strength and that his hearing is
failing, so he bellows in his ear: 'No one else could gain admittance here,
because this entrance was meant solely for you. I am now going to shut it."
I said:
“The tragic ending of the parable told by this
priest depicts 'no hope', and is a prelude of Josef K.'s fate in the end.”
Franz:
“On the evening before his thirty-first
birthday—it was about nine o’clock at night, the time when the streets were
quiet—two gentlemen came to his apartment. They were dressed in black, with
frock coats that looked as if they were meant for a funeral. ‘Who are you?’
asked K., immediately sitting up in bed. ‘We’re here to fetch you,’ said one of
the gentlemen, while the other looked around the room. K. protested, but they
insisted, saying it was necessary. They led him out of the apartment and into a
waiting car. They drove to the outskirts of the city, to a deserted quarry.”
I said:
“Hmm… those two men dressed all in black were
not clear whether they were police or butchers working for that oppressive
system….”
Franz:
“But the hands of one of the gentleman were
laid on K.'s throat, while the other pushed the knife deep into his heart and
twisted it there, twice. As his eyesight failed, K. saw the two gentlemen cheek
by cheek, close in front of his face, watching the result. "Like a
dog!" he said, it was as if the shame of it should outlive him.”
THE END
This is an imaginary interview
in memory of Franz Kafka.
Source:
The Trial by Franz Kafka, translated by David
Wyllie. 
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