At the beginning of the 20th century, “The Trial” has been exciting minds for a whole century literary critics and film directors. A work written in the unique literary style of modernism, “ magical realism"and existentialism, analyzes the classical problem modern society– confrontation between man and system.
In terms of its genre, “The Process” belongs to philosophical novel. At the same time, it surprisingly subtly intertwines the features of both a classic novel of the era of realism and a fantasy novel. All together gave an amazing literary result. Throughout the entire narrative, which touches on one year in the life of the main character - the senior bank prosecutor, Josef K., the reader is immersed by the author in a world that is well known and understandable to him. Here in front of us is the boarding house where they live ordinary people beginning of the 20th century. Here is a bank where unremarkable officials and couriers work. Here is a city with its streets, houses and suburbs, its way of life and people. Everything is as always, everything is as it should, and only the Court, like the invisible hand of fate, constantly breaks into familiar reality and destroys it with its presence.
The periodic appearance of fantastic elements in “The Trial” is not highlighted by the author. They come naturally into the story. Even when describing the most incredible things (for example, scenes of the executioner flogging two guards in a bank storeroom, repeated day after day, which only Josef K. sees). Kafka does not use any special artistic means expressiveness of speech. His literary style and his language are equally calm, detailed and clear in all situations. But it is precisely this failure to highlight oddities that destroy the usual picture of reality that allows The Process to show all the absurdity of the surrounding reality.
The composition of the novel is built according to the classical principle: at the beginning the plot begins (the awakening of Joseph K. from sleep, the notice of arrest and the interrogation in Fräulein Büstner’s room), then the action develops (and it goes very slowly, judging by the fact that the first petition to the court lawyer Gould writes for several months), after which comes the climax (Joseph’s refusal of the services of a lawyer and his listening to the deeply philosophical parable “Before the Law”), followed by an unexpected, at first glance, but prepared by the entire course of the narrative logical outcome (bringing in execution of a death sentence). Josef K. does not know why he is being punished even when he is killed “like a dog” - with a knife in the heart.
All the characters in the novel are in one way or another connected with legal proceedings. Endless judicial officials of various ranks and stripes, lawyer Gould, court artist Titorelli, lawyer's nurse Leni - they all work either for the Court or for those who are members of it. Even the completely neutral Fräulein Büstner (a typist by profession), who appeared in the life of Joseph K. after his arrest, immediately wants to go into law in order to be able to help the character justify himself. It is worth saying that throughout the entire “Trial” women stick to the main character. Lawyer Gould explains this by saying that they subconsciously see all the accused as beautiful. This trait is especially evident in the lawyer’s nurse, Leni. She is ready to give her love to each accused - and not in turn, but to everyone at once.
Kafka also shows the absurdity of life through the chronotope of the work. Josef K. constantly encounters the judicial system in closed, stuffy spaces - in his room (and almost in his bed), in the attic of the court office, in a studio with tightly boarded up windows. Over time, the space begins to close within the character’s ordinary life: tiny pieces of the walls and roofs of neighboring houses open to him through the windows; indoors he is constantly surrounded by crowds of people - court officials, bank employees, dissolute teenage girls.
Waking up in the morning, Joseph K., instead of breakfast, Frau Grubach discovers a strange person in a black suit in his room. In the living room, the hero meets another stranger and learns that he has been arrested. At first, Josef thinks it’s a joke: today he turns thirty years old, and his colleagues at the bank could well be playing a joke on him about this. He tries to show the “guards” his ID and demands an arrest warrant from them. The guards eat Josef's breakfast and say that they don't understand anything about the documents. Their job is to keep an eye on him, and let the law take care of everything else.
Franz and Willem (that’s the name of the “guards”) summon Josef for questioning to the inspector, in the next room where Fräulein Büstner lives. The inspector behaves the same way as the guards: he does not know why the hero was arrested, but advises him not to shout too much about his innocence. His function is to inform Josef about the arrest. Then the hero is free to do whatever he wants: for example, go to work in a bank together with three petty officials, bank employees.
In the evening, Josef talks to his landlady about the arrest and notes that she does not shake hands with him. He waits for Fräulein Büstner and apologizes to her for the intrusion of the judicial commission. The conversation with the girl ends with kisses.
Josef is called in for the first interrogation. As a result, he is forced to decline the invitation of the deputy director of the bank to visit his yacht on Sunday, where a company of respectable people will gather. Josef is late for the interrogation because he spends a long time walking around similar apartments and trying to find the room he needs. In a hall filled with people, the hero makes a heartfelt speech, but in the end he realizes that everyone present is court officials. Enraged, Josef runs out of the room.
The following Sunday, the hero goes for interrogation again, but the courtroom turns out to be empty. He meets the wife of one of the court officials. She offers him her help and her body. Josef wants to take the woman with him, but a student kidnaps her and carries her in his arms to the investigator. The hero follows them to the attic, where the court office is located. There he meets the woman's husband, who complains to him that he cannot do anything about the claims of the highest judicial officials against his wife. The court clerk gives Josef a tour of the office. There the hero sees the accused trembling with fear. The stale attic air also makes him sick. One of the court employees and the head of the information desk take him out of the office.
Fräulein Büstner avoids Joseph. A German friend, Montag, moves into her room. She calls the hero for a conversation in the dining room and informs him that Fräulein Büstner does not want to communicate with Josef.
One working day in the bank storeroom, Josef stumbles upon his guards, whom he is about to flog. strange man in a leather vest. Franz and Willem call him an executor. Josef wants to ransom the guards, since he did not want them to be punished, but the executor is afraid that then the hero will inform on him, and someone will flog him too. When Franz begins to scream, Josef closes the door so that the bank couriers do not notice him communicating with “all sorts of rabble.” The next day, in the storeroom, he sees the same picture: an executor flogging half-naked guards.
Uncle Albert, a poor landowner, comes to Joseph. His daughter Erna wrote to him about the trial of her nephew. He persuades Josef to go to his village and is very worried about how the process will affect the family’s reputation. His uncle introduces Josef to a poor man's lawyer named Gould. The lawyer is very ill, but is happy to take on the hero’s case. Moreover, the director of the office is now in his room. Lawyer's nurse Leni breaks a plate to talk to Josef. She advises him to confess everything and offers her help in successfully resolving the process. Josef and Leni kiss. Uncle Albert is furious. He believes that his nephew ruined everything by secluded himself with Leni, instead of talking to serious people about his trial.
Lawyer Gould introduces Josef to the intricacies of his work. It takes him several months to draw up the first petition and talk his way into the client’s mouth. Josef decides to take the defense into his own hands. He cannot work calmly in a bank. One of the clients, a manufacturer, invites him to talk about the process with the judge's artist Titorelli. Josef quits work and rushes like a bullet to the artist. Titorelli tells him about the device judicial system and three possible ways of the outcome of the trial - complete acquittal, imaginary acquittal and red tape. In gratitude for his help, the artist forces Josef to buy his paintings. Leaving Titorelli's studio, the hero ends up in the same court offices.
At the lawyer's, Joseph meets the impoverished businessman Blok, who has wasted his money and energy on lawyers (he has six of them). Blok tells the hero about underground and big lawyers. Josef refuses a lawyer. The latter humiliates Blok before his eyes in order to show his own importance.
The novel “The Trial” is one of the best examples of postmodern absurdism. It was written in 1915, but was published only ten years later, when its creator was no longer alive. Before his death, Franz Kafka begged his executor, the writer Max Brod, to burn everything he had written. Brod did not listen to his dying comrade: having collected the scattered chapters of the novel and carrying out enormous editorial work, he published the novel “The Trial” in the form in which the modern reader knows and loves it.
For the domestic book lover, Kafka, strange, problematic, and asking uncomfortable questions, was closed for a long time. His works began to leak into the Soviet press only in the 60s. So, in 1964 " Foreign literature» published a couple of short stories and a dozen miniatures by Franz Kafka. They were accompanied by a literary article by Evgenia Knipovich about the writer.
Today “The Process” celebrates its centennial anniversary. Despite his advanced age, he still continues to be popular with readers. The book takes first positions in many literary ratings. In particular, the French periodical Le Monde placed The Trial in honorable third place in the list of “100 books of the 20th century.”
The history of the film adaptation of the novel
The novel has been filmed several times. In 1962, “The Trial” was visualized by director Orson Welles, and in 1993 by David Hugh Jones, giving the role of Joseph K. to Kyle MacLachlan, and the priest to Hollywood star Anthony Hopkins.
Let us remember how the events of one of the most famous works Franz Kafka.
Josef K's thirtieth birthday.
One morning, the life of successful bank procurator Josef K. was turned upside down. Today was his thirtieth birthday. It all started when the maid didn't bring breakfast. Instead, a stranger in a black frock coat appeared on the threshold of the room that K. rented in Frau Grubach’s apartment. He behaved calmly, as if everything that happened was in the order of things.
When Josef asked where his morning meal was, the gentleman replied that breakfast was canceled for today. He also immediately announced the purpose of his early visit. The stranger turned out to be a law enforcement officer who came to arrest Josef K.
Mr. K. was a respected person and a law-abiding citizen; he was never brought to criminal responsibility and was not involved in criminal activities. All this explains the natural bewilderment with which K. received the news of his arrest. Without explaining what Josef was actually guilty of, the law enforcement officer demanded that K. change into a formal black frock coat and follow him to the police station for interrogation.
K. has no choice but to obey. He is convinced that this is a ridiculous mistake, someone's cruel joke, or even bad dream which is about to end. However, upon arrival at the so-called “department”, the arrested person is convinced of the reality of everything that is happening. K. is informed that he has broken the law. A trial will soon begin, in which he, Josef K., has the opportunity to defend his case. The whole catch is that no one - neither the police, nor the prosecutor, nor the judges, nor the jury, nor K. himself - knows what exactly the defendant is guilty of.
Free prisoner. Fräulein Bürstner
The next surprise was the news that Mr. K. was not even considered to be kept in custody. On the one hand, he was arrested, on the other, he continued to lead his usual lifestyle. The only thing that was required of him was to attend mandatory court hearings. In order not to interfere with work at the bank and K.’s usual everyday activities, they decided to hold meetings on Sundays.
The somewhat calmed prisoner returns home. The landlady, Frau Grubach, who dotes on her guest, sincerely sympathizes with the misfortune that befell K. She is confident that the case will be resolved in his favor and suggests that the accusation is not of the usual criminal, but of a scientific nature. Either out of absent-mindedness, or due to some other hidden reason, Frau Grubach does not shake hands with K. Also, K. was not given a handshake by the police and the prosecutor.
Trying not to get hung up on these annoying metamorphoses, K. spends the rest of the day waiting for Fräulein Bürstner, his pretty neighbor. She adheres to fairly free morals and allows numerous fans to take her on dates. This behavior provides rich soil for gossip, and therefore the servants selflessly whisper about how Fräulein Bürstner visits dubious entertainment establishments and shamelessly embraces gentlemen.
Be that as it may, Josef K. really appreciates the company of his charming neighbor. At night, when Bürstner returned from the theater, K. tells her about his mysterious arrest, learns that Fräulein is going to study law, enlists her support as an independent consultant and, unexpectedly for the first time in her life, allows her to kiss her neighbor.
Sunday. First hearing. On the phone, K. was informed that it would take place on a remote street in the suburbs, where Josef had never been before. Upon leaving the house, the defendant realizes that he was not told the exact address or even the start time of the hearing. However, for some reason he decides that he needs to come at nine.
The designated street is completely lined with apartment buildings the poor. On a weekend, life in the suburbs is in full swing, the windows and doors of small rooms are open, children are running around, men and women are busy with housework. K. does not want to reveal the true purpose of his visit, so, looking into the rooms, he asks where the carpenter Lanz lives. Of course, no carpenter exists, Josef just invented him, but in one of the apartments the woman doing the laundry, when asked about Lanza, nods affirmatively and invites K. to come along.
The defendant finds himself in a small hall. It is packed to capacity with people lined up in two even columns. All those present are dressed in formal black frock coats; the strange procession is led by a small, puffing, fat man at a desk. This is the judge.
To K’s surprise, he angrily reports that he was an hour and five minutes late, and warns that such connivance in relation to the investigation should not be repeated. The defendant does not allow himself to be offended. He makes the old judge laugh at his sloppy notebook, which he proudly calls “documentation.” Gentlemen of the jury burst into laughter and applaud. It seems that Josef managed to win over the audience. He's on on the right track to victory.
Intimate life of K.
The trial in the case of Josef K. dragged on for a whole year. Every day more and more absurd and inexplicable things appeared in the defendant’s life. Despite the fact that K. tried to keep the trial secret, the circle of initiates rapidly expanded. Sometimes random passers-by started talking to him. It turns out they knew about the process too.
Josef is visited by his uncle. He is also aware of his nephew's case. In order to somehow help his relative, his uncle is looking for a lawyer for him. The lawyer is old and sick. He is looked after by a lively young nurse, Leni, with whom K. develops an intimate relationship. It must be said that from the moment of his arrest Joseph began to use special success in women. This is no coincidence, because the weaker sex has always been attracted to the so-called “bad guys”. Now K. can count himself among their ranks with a certain pride.
Parable about the Law. Thirty-first birthday of Josef K.
One day Joseph ran into the church to wait out the rain. Like a bolt from the blue, the priest’s voice sounded. He addressed K. by name and introduced himself as the prison chaplain. The Holy Father reveals to K. that in reality his affairs are bad. Most likely, the process will be lost.
The priest tells Joseph a parable about the Law. It talks about the gatekeeper who stands at the gate of the Law. One day a villager approached him and asked if he could enter the gate now. To which the gatekeeper answered negatively. Then the villager asked if he would be able to cross the threshold of the Law in the future. To which the gatekeeper gave an affirmative answer - yes, such an opportunity may present itself. The villager decides to wait until he is allowed to enter. The guard did not drive the man away and even mercifully put out a bench for him.
The villager spent many years at the threshold of the Law, never receiving the desired invitation. When gray hair covered his hair, his vision became blurred, and life barely glimmered in his old body, the man asked exhaustedly: “All people strive for the Law. So why for these for many years none living soul didn’t come to the door?” He said and closed his eyes. Taking his dying breath, the villager heard the gatekeeper’s words: “No one can enter here. This gate was meant for you alone. Now I’ll go and lock them up!”
This is what the priest said, and Joseph K. drew parallels with his own history. Isn’t he the villager who is trying to understand the Law, but only hangs around aimlessly at the threshold, never daring to cross it?
In our next article we will look at the biography of Franz Kafka - one of the main German-language writers of the 20th century, much of whose work was published posthumously.
Incredible story What happened to traveling salesman Gregor Samsa in Kafka’s book “The Metamorphosis” largely echoes the life of the author himself - a closed, insecure ascetic prone to eternal self-condemnation.
Shortly after the meeting with the priest, on the eve of his thirty-first birthday, Joseph K. came for him. The defendant was ready to meet the visitors, despite the fact that he had not received any notification. Together with his gloomy convoy, K. went to the quarry. There they took off his jacket and shirt, laid him head on a stone and stabbed him with a knife right in the heart. “Like a dog,” Josef K. thought bitterly as he died.
The death sentence was carried out exactly one year after the start of the trial. Neither the late Joseph nor the dear reader had a chance to meet the chief prosecutor, as well as the reason for the arrest.
"The Trial", like other works of Kafka, is an organic symbiosis of various literary styles– modernism, existentialism, magical realism. The line between truth and fiction, fantasy and reality, sleep and wakefulness is so thin that sometimes it is impossible to distinguish the miraculous from the real. It is noteworthy that the author describes absurd, surreal events with the same everyday calm as the most ordinary incidents. This deliberate indifference emphasizes the absurdity of everything that is happening.
Albert Camus in the article “Hope and Absurdity in the Works of Franz Kafka” noted that main character perceives strange things happening to him without any surprise. This contradictory lack of surprise is the main characteristic of an absurd work. According to Camus, the secret of Kafka’s “Trial” is duality, a constant balancing between “the natural and the unusual, the individual and the universe, the tragic and the everyday, the absurd and the logic.”
Kafka shamelessly transferred miracles to cramped city rooms, locked them in stuffy closets, everyday offices, grocery stores, pavements. Nietzsche said: “Look for great problems on the street.” For large-scale philosophical reflection on meaning human life Kafka did not need to create fantastic unreality; the usual urbanism and the magic of symbols were enough for him.
The novel “The Trial” by Franz Kafka: summary
1. Arrest. Conversation with Frau Grubach, then with Fraulein Bürstner
Someone apparently slandered Josef K., because without doing anything wrong, he was arrested. His landlady's cook, Frau Grubach, who brought him breakfast every day at about eight o'clock, did not show up this time. This has never happened before. K. waited a little, looked from the bed at the old woman who lived opposite - she was looking at him from the window with some kind of curiosity that was unusual for her - and then, feeling both hunger and some bewilderment, he called. Immediately there was a knock and a man entered the room. K. had never seen him in this apartment before. He was thin and at the same time strongly built, in a well-fitting black suit, similar to a traveling dress - it had so many different darts, pockets, buckles, buttons and a tab at the back - this made the suit seem especially practical, although it was difficult to tell right away , what is all this for?
-Who are you? – K. asked and sat up on the bed.
But he didn’t answer anything, as if his appearance was in the order of things, and only asked:
-Did you call?
“Let Anna bring me breakfast,” said K. and began silently looking at this man, trying to figure out who he really was? But he did not allow himself to be examined especially and, going up to the door, opened it a little and said to someone who was obviously standing right there, behind the threshold:
He wants Anna to serve him breakfast.
A short chuckle was heard from the next room; it was difficult to guess from the sound whether there was one person or several of them. And although the stranger clearly could not hear anything new for himself, he told K. in an official tone:
- This is not allowed!
- Here's more news! - said K., jumped out of bed and hastily pulled on his trousers. “Now I’ll see what kind of people are in the next room.” Let's see how Frau Grubach explains this invasion.
True, he immediately thought that it was not worth expressing his thoughts out loud - it looked as if with these words he was to some extent acknowledging the stranger’s right of supervision; however, it didn’t matter now. But apparently the stranger understood him that way, because he immediately said:
“Perhaps it would be better for you to stay here?”
“And I won’t stay, and I don’t want to talk to you, until you tell me who you are.”
“You shouldn’t be offended,” said the stranger and opened the door himself.
In the next room, into which K. walked more slowly than he would have liked, at first glance, almost nothing had changed since last night. It was Frau Grubach's living room, cluttered with furniture, carpets, china and photographs; perhaps it had now become a little more spacious, although this was not immediately noticeable, especially since the main change was that there was a person there. He was sitting with a book by the open window and now, looking up, said:
“You should have stayed in your room!” Didn't Franz tell you anything?
- What do you finally need? - asked K., looking from the new visitor to the one they called Franz (he was standing in the doorway), and again to the first. IN open window that old woman was visible: in a fit of senile curiosity, she had already run to another window to see what would happen next.
“Now I’ll ask Frau Grubach,” said K. And although he stood at a distance from those two, he made a movement as if he wanted to escape from their hands, and was about to leave the room.
“No,” said the man at the window, threw the book on the table and stood up: “You can’t leave.” After all, you are under arrest.
– We are not authorized to give explanations. Go to your room and wait. Your business has begun, and in due course you will know everything. I am already violating my authority by speaking to you in a friendly manner. But I hope that no one except Franz hears us, and he himself, contrary to all instructions, is too kind to you. If you continue to be as lucky as you were with the appointment of the guard, then you can rest easy.
K. wanted to sit down, but saw that there was nothing to sit on in the room except the chair by the window.
“You will understand what true words these are,” said Franz, and suddenly both of them immediately approached him.
The second one was much taller than K. He kept patting him on the shoulder. They began to feel K.'s nightgown, saying that now he would have to wear a much worse shirt, but they would save this shirt and all the rest of his underwear, and if things turned out in his favor, they would give everything back to him.
“It’s better to give the things to us than to the warehouse,” they said. - Things are replaced in the warehouse, and besides, after a while all the things are sold out - it doesn’t matter whether the business is over or not. Do you know how long such processes take, especially nowadays! Of course, the warehouse will eventually return the cost of the things to you, but, firstly, the amount itself is insignificant, because during a sale the price of things is set not by their value, but by bribes, and the proceeds melt away, they are still there every year pass from hand to hand.
But K. didn’t even listen to what they told him, it didn’t matter to him who would get the right to dispose of his personal belongings, as if they still belonged to him; it was much more important to understand my position; but in the presence of these people, he could not even think properly: the second guard - who were they if not guards? - all the time he pushed him, as if in a friendly manner, with his thick belly, but when K. raised his eyes, he saw a thin, bony face with a large nose turned to one side, completely inappropriate for this fat body, and intercepted the glance that this man exchanged over his head with your comrade. Who are these people? What are they talking about? What department are they from? After all, K. lives in a legal state, peace reigns everywhere, all laws are unshakable, who dares to attack him in his own home? He was always inclined to take everything extremely lightly, admitting that things were bad only when they really became very bad, and was accustomed to not doing anything in advance, even if a threat was imminent. But now it seemed to him that this was wrong, although everything that was happening could be considered a joke, a rude joke, which is unknown why - maybe because today he turned thirty years old? – colleagues at the bank decided to play with him. Yes, of course, this is quite likely; Apparently, he should just laugh in the faces of these guards, and they would laugh with him; or maybe they were just messengers, it seems quite likely, but why then, at the first glance at Franz, did he firmly decide not to yield to these people in anything? The last thing K. was afraid of was that he would later be reproached for not understanding jokes, but he perfectly remembered - although he usually did not take into account past experience - some cases, insignificant in themselves, when, unlike his friends, he deliberately neglected the possible consequences and behaved extremely thoughtlessly and carelessly, for which he paid in full. This shouldn’t happen to him again, at least now, and if it’s a comedy, he’ll play along with it. But for now he is still free.
“Excuse me,” he said and quickly walked past them to his room.
“Apparently, he’s a smart guy,” he heard behind him.
In the room he immediately began to pull out the drawers of the table; There was exemplary order there, but out of excitement he could not find the identification document he was looking for. Finally, he found a bicycle license and was about to go with it to the guards, but then this piece of paper seemed unconvincing to him, and he began to search again until he found his metric.
When he returned to the next room, the door opposite opened and Frau Grubach came out. But when she saw K., she stopped at the door, clearly embarrassed, apologized and very carefully closed the doors.
- Come in! – that’s all K could say.
He himself remained standing in the middle of the room with papers in his hands, looking at the door that did not open, and only the exclamation of the guards made him flinch - they were sitting at a table by the open window, and K. saw that they were devouring his breakfast.
- Why didn’t she come in? – he asked.
“Not allowed,” said the tall one. - After all, you are under arrest.
- That is, how was he arrested? Is this how it's done?
“You’re on your own again,” he said and dipped the bread into a jar of honey. – We do not answer such questions.
“I’ll have to answer,” said K. “Here are my documents, and you present yours, and first of all, an arrest warrant.”
- Lord, your will! - said the tall one. – Why can’t you come to terms with your situation? No, you definitely need to make us angry, and completely in vain, because we are now the closest people in the world to you!
“Exactly,” said Franz, “you can believe me.” - And he looked at K. with a long and probably meaningful, but incomprehensible glance over the cup of coffee he was holding in his hand.
Without meaning to, K. answered Franz with the same expressive look, but immediately slapped his documents and said:
- Here are my papers.
- What do we care about them! - the tall one shouted. - Really, you are behaving worse than a child. What do you want? Do you really think that your huge, terrible trial will end sooner if you start arguing with us, with your guards, about all sorts of documents, about arrest warrants? We are the lowest ranks, we understand almost nothing about documents, our job is to guard you every day for ten hours and receive a salary for this. This is what we are assigned to, although, of course, we can fully understand that higher authorities, to which we obey, before ordering an arrest, they accurately establish both the reason for the arrest and the identity of the arrested person. There are no mistakes here. Our department - as far as I know it, although I know only the lower ranks there - never, according to my information, itself looks for the guilty among the population: guilt, as the law says, attracts justice to itself, and then the authorities have to send us, that is, the guard. This is the law. Where could there be mistakes here?
“I don’t know such a law,” said K.
“So much the worse for you,” said the tall one.
“Yes, he exists only in your head,” said K. He really wanted to somehow penetrate the thoughts of the guards, change them in his favor, or become imbued with these thoughts himself. But the tall one only said abruptly:
– You will feel it yourself.
Here Franz intervened:
“You see, Willem, he admitted that he does not know the law, and at the same time he claims that he is innocent.
“You’re absolutely right, but you can’t explain anything to him,” he said.
K. did not talk to them anymore; Surely, he thought, I will allow myself to be confused by the chatter of these lower ranks - that’s what they call themselves. And they talk about things about which they understand nothing at all. And their self-confidence is simply due to stupidity. As soon as I exchange even two or three words with a person of my circle, everything will become incomparably clearer than long conversations with these two. He walked around the room several times, saw that the old woman opposite had already dragged an even older old man to the window and was standing with him in an embrace. This spectacle had to stop.
“Take me to your superiors,” he said.
“Not until the authorities please,” said the guard, whose name was Willem. “And now,” he added, “I advise you to go to your room and calmly wait for what they decide to do with you.” And our advice to you: do not waste your energy on useless reasoning, it is better to gather your thoughts, because they will make great demands on you. You did not treat us the way we deserved by your treatment, you forgot that, no matter who we are, we, at least compared to you, are free people, and this is a considerable advantage. However, if you have money, we are ready to bring you breakfast from the cafe opposite.
K. stood for a while, but did not respond to this proposal. Perhaps if he opened the door to the next room or even to the hallway, these two would not dare to stop him; Maybe the simplest solution is to go ahead? But they can seize him, and if he suffers such humiliation, then his superiority over them, which in some respects he still retained, will disappear. No, it’s better to wait for the outcome - it should come by itself, in the natural course of things; so K. went to his room without exchanging a single word with the guards.
He threw himself on the bed and took a beautiful apple from the washstand - he had saved it for breakfast since the evening. He had no other breakfast at the moment, and, taking a large bite, he assured himself that it was much better than the breakfast from the dirty night cafe opposite, which he could have received at the mercy of his guards. He felt good and confident; True, he was half a day late to the bank where he worked, but given the relatively high position he held, this delay would be forgiven. Shouldn't it be used as an excuse? the real reason? That's what he decided to do. If they don’t believe him, which he won’t be surprised at all, then he can refer to Frau Grubach or those old people opposite - now they are probably already moving on to their other window. K. was surprised, or rather, he was surprised, taking the point of view of the guards: how did they drive him into another room and leave him alone where he could commit suicide in a dozen ways? However, he immediately thought, from his own point of view: what reason could push him to do this? Is it really that two people are sitting next to each other and eating his breakfast? Committing suicide would be so senseless that even if he wanted to, he could not commit such a senseless act. And if the mental limitations of these guards were not so obvious, then one could assume that they had come to the same conclusion and therefore did not see any danger in leaving him alone. Let them now watch, if they wish, how he approaches the wall cabinet, where the excellent cognac is hidden, knocks back the first glass in exchange for breakfast, and then the second - for courage, in case courage is needed, which, however, is unlikely.
But then he was so frightened by a shout from the next room that his teeth clattered against the glass.
- You are being summoned to the inspector! - they shouted from there.
It was the scream that frightened him, this short, abrupt soldier's shout, which he had never expected from Franz. The order itself made him very happy.
- Finally! – he shouted, locked the closet and ran into the living room. But there he was met by both guards and immediately, as if it was necessary, they drove him back to his room.
-Are you crazy? - they shouted. - Go to the inspector in your shirt! He will order you to be whipped, and us too!
- Let me go, damn it! - shouted K., who had already been pushed back to the wardrobe itself. “They attacked a man in bed, and they still expect him to be in a tailcoat!”
- Nothing can be done! - both said; Every time K. raised a cry, they became not only completely calm, but even somehow sad, which confused him very much, but partly calmed him down.
- Funny ceremonies! - he muttered, but he had already taken the jacket off the chair and held it in his hands, as if letting the guards decide whether it was suitable.
They shook their heads.
“We need a black frock coat,” they said.
K. threw his jacket on the floor and said, without knowing in what sense he was saying this:
– But the case is not being heard now?
The guards grinned, but stubbornly repeated:
- I need a black frock coat.
“Well, if this can speed things up, I don’t mind,” said K., he opened the closet, rummaged through his numerous clothes for a long time, chose the best black pair - it fit so smartly that it aroused the admiration of his acquaintances, - he took out a fresh shirt and began to dress with all care. Secretly, he thought that there would be no more delays - the guards had even forgotten to force him to take a bath. He kept an eye on them - what if they did remember, but, of course, it never occurred to them, although Willem did not forget to send Franz to the inspector to report that K. was already getting dressed.
When he was fully dressed, Willem, following on his heels, led him through the empty living room into the next room, where the doors were already wide open. K. knew for sure that a certain Fräulein Bürstner, a typist, had recently settled in this room; she went to work very early, returned home late, and K. only exchanged the usual greetings with her. Now her night table was pulled out into the middle of the room for questioning, and the inspector sat behind it. He crossed his legs and threw one arm over the back of the chair.
There were three young men in the corner of the room, looking at photographs of Fräulein Bürstner stuck into a wicker mat on the wall. A white blouse hung on the handle of the open window. The same old men were already leaning out of the window opposite, but there were more spectators there: behind them stood a huge man in a shirt open on his chest, who was constantly twisting and turning his reddish beard.
– Josef K.? – the inspector asked, probably only in order to attract K’s absent-minded gaze.
K. bowed his head.
– You must have been very surprised by the events of this morning? - asked the inspector and with both hands he pulled towards him the few things lying on the table: a candle with matches, a book, a pincushion, as if he needed these items during the interview.
“Of course,” said K., and a pleasant feeling came over him: finally in front of him reasonable person with whom you can talk about your affairs. – Of course, I’m surprised, but, however, not very surprised.
- Not good? – the inspector asked and, moving the candle to the middle of the table, began to arrange the rest of the things around it.
“It’s possible that you misunderstood me,” K. hurried. “I just wanted to say...” Here he stopped short and began to look for where to sit. -Can I sit down? he asked.
“That’s not supposed to be the case,” answered the inspector.
“I just wanted to say,” K. continued without delay, “that I, of course, am very surprised, but when you live thirty years in the world, and even if you had to make your way in life, as I had to, then you inevitably get used to all sorts of surprises and don't take them too seriously. Especially ones like today.
– Why especially like today?
- No, I’m not saying that I think everything is a joke, in my opinion, it’s gone too far for a joke. Obviously, all the residents of the boarding house took part in this, and all of you, and this is already crossing the borders of a joke. So I don't think it was just a joke.
“And rightly so,” said the inspector and looked at how many matches were left in the box.
“But, on the other hand,” K. continued, addressing everyone present, “he wanted to attract the attention of those three who were looking at the photographs, “on the other hand, all this cannot have much significance.” I deduce this from the fact that I am accused of something, but I don’t feel the slightest guilt. But this doesn’t matter, the main question is – who is blaming me? Which department is handling the case? Are you officials? But you don’t have a uniform, unless your suit,” here he turned to Franz, “is considered a uniform, but it’s more like a traveling dress. It is on this issue that I demand clarity, and I am sure that after clarification we will all part as friends.
Here the inspector placed the matchbox on the table with a knock.
“You are deeply mistaken,” he said. “And these gentlemen, and I myself, we all have nothing to do with your business.” Moreover, we know almost nothing about him. We could wear a real uniform and your case wouldn't be any worse off. I can’t even tell you that you are accused of something, or rather, I don’t know anything about it. Yes, you are under arrest, that's true, but I don't know anything else. Maybe the guards told you something, but it’s all empty talk. And although I don’t answer your questions, I can advise you one thing: think less about us and what awaits you, think better about what you should do. And don’t shout about your innocence like that, it ruins the generally good impression you make. In general, you need to be more restrained in conversations. Everything you said here was already clear from your behavior, even if you had uttered only two words, and besides, all this does not benefit you.
K. looked at the inspector in bewilderment. He is scolded like a schoolboy, and by whom? A man who is probably younger than him! He has to be reprimanded for his frankness! And not a word about the reason for the arrest, about who ordered his arrest! He even became agitated and began to walk back and forth around the room, which no one stopped. He pushed his cuffs under his sleeve, straightened his shirtfront, smoothed his hair, said, passing by three young people: “What nonsense!” To which they turned to him and looked at him sympathetically, although sternly, and finally stopped in front of the inspector’s table.
“Prosecutor Gasterer is an old friend of mine,” he said. – Can I call him?
“Of course,” replied the inspector, “but I don’t know what the point is, unless you need to talk to him about a personal matter.”
- What's the point? - K. exclaimed, more puzzled than angry. - Who are you? You are looking for meaning, but you create such nonsense that you can’t even come up with it. Yes, the stones will scream! First these gentlemen attacked me, and now they have sat down, standing and gawking in a crowd as I dance to your tune. And you also ask what’s the point of calling the prosecutor when I’m told that I’m under arrest! Okay, I won't call!
- Why? - said the inspector and moved his hand towards the front hall, where the telephone hung. - Please call!
“No, now I don’t want to,” said K. and went to the window.
The whole company was still standing at the window opposite, but the fact that K. approached the window disturbed their calm contemplation.
The old people wanted to get up, but the man standing behind them calmed them down.
- And these people are staring there too! - K. shouted loudly to the inspector and pointed his finger at the window. – Get out of there! - he shouted out the window.
Those three immediately retreated deeper, the old men even hid behind their neighbor, who covered them with his large body, and from his lips it was clear that he was telling them something, but from a distance it was difficult to make out the words. However, they did not leave completely, but seemed to be waiting for a minute when they could quietly approach the window again.
– What importunity, what unceremoniousness! - said K., moving away from the window.
The inspector seemed to agree with him, or so it seemed to K. when he glanced sideways at him. However, it is possible that he was not listening, because he pressed his palm tightly to the table and seemed to be comparing the lengths of his fingers. Both guards sat on the chest, covered with a rug for beauty, and rubbed their knees. Three young men, with their hands on their hips, looked around aimlessly. It was quiet, as if in some empty office.
- Well, gentlemen! - K. exclaimed, and it seemed to him that he was responsible for them all. “From your appearance, we can conclude that my case is settled.” I am inclined to believe that the best thing to do is not to figure out whether your actions are justified or unjustified, and leave peacefully with a friendly handshake. If you agree with me, then I ask you... - And, going up to the inspector’s table, he extended his hand to him.
The inspector raised his eyes and, biting his lips, looked at the outstretched hand. K. thought that he would shake it now. But he stood up, took the hard round hat that was lying on Fräulein Bürstner’s bed, and carefully, with both hands, as one usually tries on new hats, he put it on his head.
– How simply you imagine everything! - he said to K. - So, in your opinion, we should disperse peacefully? No, no, that won't work. But I don't mean to say that you should fall into despair. No, why not! After all, you are only arrested, nothing more. What I had to tell you, I told you and I saw how you accepted it. That's enough for today, and we can say goodbye - though only for a while. Perhaps you want to go to the bank now?
- To the bank? - asked K. - But I thought that I was arrested!
K. said this with some challenge: despite the fact that his handshake was rejected, he felt, especially when the inspector stood up, that he was becoming less and less dependent on these people. He played with them. He even decided, if they left, to run after them to the gate and suggest that they arrest him. That's why he repeated:
- How can I go to the bank since I’m under arrest?
- That's it! - said the inspector already from the door. - So you didn’t understand me. Yes, of course, you are under arrest, but this should not interfere with the performance of your duties. And in general, this should not stop you from leading ordinary life…
“Well, then this arrest is not so terrible at all,” said K. and came close to the inspector.
“I didn’t think otherwise,” he said.
“Then it probably wasn’t worth reporting the arrest,” said K. and came very close.
The others also approached them. Everyone crowded around the door.
“It was my duty,” said the inspector.
“It’s a stupid duty,” K. said without giving up.
“Perhaps,” said the inspector, “but there’s no point in wasting time on such talk.” I assumed you wanted to go to the bank. Since you attach meaning to every word, I’ll add: I’m not forcing you to go to the bank, I just assumed that you want it. And in order to make this step easier for you and make your arrival as unnoticeable as possible, I have placed at your disposal these three gentlemen, your colleagues.
- What? - K. shouted and stared at the three young people.
These inconspicuous, skinny youths, whom he had hitherto perceived only as strangers those gawking at the photographs were indeed officials from his bank; not colleagues - that was too strong a word and proved that the omniscient inspector did not know everything - but indeed they were the lowest employees from his bank. And how could K. not recognize them? How busy he was talking with the inspector and the guards that he did not recognize these three! The dryish Rabensteiner, always waving his arms, the blond Kullich with sunken eyes, and Kaminer with his unbearable smile due to chronically distorted facial muscles.
- WITH good morning! - K. said a minute later, and all three shook the outstretched hand with a correct bow. – I didn’t recognize you at all. So, let's go to work together now?
All three readily smiled and nodded, as if this was all they had been waiting for, and when K. did not find his hat - it remained in his room - they all ran there in single file, which, of course, indicated some confusion. K. stood and looked after them through both open doors; The last to run, of course, was the indifferent Rabensteiner, he simply trotted along at an elegant trot. Kaminer handed over his hat, and K. had to remind himself, as often happened in the bank, that Kaminer was not smiling on purpose, moreover, that he could not smile on purpose.
Frau Grubach, who did not look at all guilty, unlocked the doors in the hallway in front of the whole company, and K., out of habit, glanced at the strings of her apron, which cut too deeply into her powerful figure. On the street, K. looked at his watch and decided to take a taxi so as not to delay the half-hour delay even more. Kaminer ran to the corner to get a taxi, and both other colleagues were clearly trying to entertain K. And suddenly Kullich pointed to the front door of the house opposite, from where he had just left tall man with a light beard and, somewhat embarrassed by the fact that he was visible at full height, stepped back and leaned against the wall. Apparently the old people were still going down the stairs. K. was angry with Kullich for drawing his attention to this man; he himself saw him even then, at the window, moreover, he was waiting for him to come out.
- Don't look there! – he said abruptly, not noticing how inappropriate such a tone was in relation to adults.
But there was no need to explain anything, because a car arrived, everyone sat down and drove off. Only then did K. realize that he had not noticed at all how the inspector and his guards had left: earlier, because of the inspector, he had not seen the three officials, and now, because of the officials, he had missed the inspector. This did not indicate a special presence of spirit, and K. firmly decided to take care of himself in this regard.
But he involuntarily turned around and leaned out of the taxi to check again whether the inspector was there with the guards or not. However, he immediately turned back and leaned back comfortably in the corner, without even looking to see if they were there. Although he didn’t show it, right now he would like to talk to someone. But his companions were clearly tired: Rabensteiner looked to the right, Kullich to the left, and only Kaminer seemed ready to talk, with his eternal grin, which, unfortunately, could not be teased out of simple philanthropy.
This spring, K. spent most of his evenings like this: after work, if there was still time - most often he sat in the office until nine - he would walk alone or with one of his colleagues, and then go to the pub, where he usually sat with the company elderly gentlemen at their constant table until eleven o'clock. There were also violations of this schedule, for example, when the director of the bank, who really valued K. for his efficiency and reliability, invited him to ride in a car or have dinner at the dacha. In addition, K. once a week visited a young lady named Elsa, who worked as a waiter in a restaurant all night until the morning, and during the day received guests exclusively in bed.
But that evening - the whole day flew by unnoticed in hard work and in all sorts of flattering and friendly birthday congratulations - K. decided to go home straight away. Every time between work he thought about it; For some unknown reason, it always seemed to him that because of the events of the morning, terrible chaos reigned throughout Frau Grubach’s apartment and that it was he who had to restore order there. And once order is restored, all traces of the morning’s events will disappear and everything will go on as before. Of course, there was nothing to be afraid of those three officials: they disappeared into the huge mass of bank employees, and nothing was noticeable about them. K. several times, both together and separately, called them to him for the sole purpose of observing them, and each time he sent them away completely satisfied.
When he approached his house at half past nine, he met at the entrance young guy, who stood with his legs wide apart, with a pipe in his teeth.
-Who are you? – K. immediately asked and moved towards the guy; it was difficult to see anything in the dimly lit entrance.
“I’m the porter’s son, your honor,” the guy said, took the pipe out of his mouth and stepped aside.
- The porter's son? – asked K. and impatiently tapped his stick on the floor.
“Perhaps there’s something you’d like?” Would you like to call your father?
Franz Kafka
"Process"
Chapter one.
ARREST. CONVERSATION WITH FRAU GRUBACH, THEN WITH FRAULEIN BURSTNER
Someone apparently slandered Josef K., because without doing anything wrong, he was arrested. His landlady's cook, Frau Grubach, who brought him breakfast every day at about eight o'clock, did not show up this time. This has never happened before. K. waited a little, looked from the bed at the old woman living opposite - she was looking out of the window with some kind of curiosity that was unusual for her - and then, feeling both hunger and some bewilderment, he called. Immediately there was a knock and a man entered the room. K. had never seen him in this apartment before. He was thin and at the same time strongly built, in a well-fitting black suit, similar to a traveling dress - it had so many different darts, pockets, buckles, buttons and a tab at the back - this made the suit seem especially practical, although it was difficult to tell right away , what is all this for?
-Who are you? – K. asked and sat up on the bed.
But he didn’t answer anything, as if his appearance was in the order of things, and only asked:
-Did you call?
“Let Anna bring me breakfast,” said K. and began silently looking at this man, trying to figure out who he really was? But he did not allow himself to be examined especially and, going up to the door, opened it a little and said to someone who was obviously standing right there, behind the threshold:
He wants Anna to serve him breakfast.
A short chuckle was heard from the next room; it was difficult to guess from the sound whether there was one person or several of them. And although the stranger clearly could not hear anything new for himself, he told K. in an official tone:
- This is not allowed!
- Here's more news! - said K., jumped out of bed and hastily pulled on his trousers. “Now I’ll see what kind of people are in the next room.” Let's see how Frau Grubach explains this invasion.
True, he immediately thought that it was not worth expressing his thoughts out loud - it looked as if with these words he was to some extent acknowledging the stranger’s right of supervision; however, it didn’t matter now. But apparently the stranger understood him that way, because he immediately said:
“Perhaps it would be better for you to stay here?”
“And I won’t stay, and I don’t want to talk to you, until you tell me who you are.”
“You shouldn’t be offended,” said the stranger and opened the door himself.
In the next room, into which K. walked more slowly than he would have liked, at first glance, almost nothing had changed since last night. It was Frau Grubach's living room, cluttered with furniture, carpets, china and photographs; perhaps it had now become a little more spacious, although this was not immediately noticeable, especially since the main change was that there was a person there. He was sitting with a book by the open window and now, looking up, said:
“You should have stayed in your room!” Didn't Franz tell you anything?
– What do you finally need? - asked K., looking from the new visitor to the one they called Franz (he was standing in the doorway), and again to the first. The old woman was visible through the open window: in a fit of senile curiosity, she had already run to another window to see what was next.
“Now I’ll ask Frau Grubach,” said K. And, although he stood at a distance from those two, he made a movement as if he wanted to escape from their hands, and was about to leave the room.
“No,” said the man at the window, threw the book on the table and stood up: “You can’t leave.” After all, you are under arrest.
– We are not authorized to give explanations. Go to your room and wait. Your business has begun, and in due course you will know everything. I am already violating my authority by speaking to you in a friendly manner. But I hope that no one except Franz hears us, and he himself, contrary to all instructions, is too kind to you. If you continue to be as lucky as you were with the appointment of the guard, then you can rest easy.
K. wanted to sit down, but saw that in the room, except for the chair by the window, there was nothing to sit on.
“You will understand what true words these are,” said Franz, and suddenly both of them immediately approached him. The second one was much taller than K. He kept patting him on the shoulder. They began to feel K.'s nightgown, saying that now he would have to wear a much worse shirt, but they would save this shirt and all the rest of his underwear, and if things turned out in his favor, they would give everything back to him.
“It’s better to give the things to us than to the warehouse,” they said. - Things are replaced in the warehouse, and besides, after a while all the things are sold out - it doesn’t matter whether the business is over or not. Do you know how long such processes take, especially nowadays! Of course, the warehouse will eventually return the cost of the things to you, but, firstly, the amount itself is insignificant, because during a sale the price of things is set not according to their value, but through bribes, and the proceeds melt away, they are still there every year. pass from hand to hand.
But K. didn’t even listen to what they told him, it didn’t matter to him who would get the right to dispose of his personal belongings, as if they still belonged to him; it was much more important to understand my position; but in the presence of these people, he could not even think properly: the second guard - who were they if not guards? - all the time he pushed him, as if in a friendly manner, with his thick belly, but when K. raised his eyes, he saw a thin, bony face with a large nose turned to one side, completely inappropriate for this fat body, and intercepted the glance that this man exchanged over his head with your comrade. Who are these people? What are they talking about? What department are they from? After all, K. lives in a legal state, peace reigns everywhere, all laws are unshakable, who dares to attack him in his own home? He was always inclined to take everything extremely lightly, admitting that things were bad only when they really became very bad, and was accustomed to not doing anything in advance, even if a threat was imminent. But now it seemed to him that this was wrong, although everything that was happening could be considered a joke, a rude joke, which is unknown why - maybe because today he turned thirty years old? – colleagues at the bank decided to play with him. Yes, of course, this is quite likely; Apparently, he should just laugh in the faces of these guards, and they would laugh with him; or maybe they were just messengers, it seems quite likely, but why then, at the first glance at Franz, did he firmly decide not to yield to these people in anything? The last thing K. was afraid of was that he would later be reproached for not understanding jokes, but he perfectly remembered - although he usually did not take into account past experience - some cases, insignificant in themselves, when, unlike his friends, he deliberately neglected the possible consequences and behaved extremely thoughtlessly and carelessly, for which he paid in full. This shouldn’t happen to him again, at least now, and if it’s a comedy, he’ll play along with it. But for now he is still free.