The Trial, Franz Kafka [primary phonics .txt] 📗

untried; if I don’t last out you can always get somebody else.

To be honest, this matters interests me too much, and I can’t bring myself to give up the chance of taking some part in it. If my heart does totally give out then at least it will have found a worthy affair to fail in.” K. believed he understood not a word of this entire speech, he looked at his uncle for an explanation but his uncle sat on the bedside table with the candle in his hand, a medicine bottle had rolled off the table onto the floor, he nodded to everything the lawyer said, agreed to everything, and now and then looked at K. urging him to show the same compliance. Maybe K.‘s uncle had already told the lawyer about the trial. But that was impossible, everything that had happened so far spoke against it. So he said,

“I don’t understand … ” “Well, maybe I’ve misunderstood what you’ve been saying,” said the lawyer, just as astonished and embarrassed as K.

“Perhaps I’ve been going too fast. What was it you wanted to speak to me about? I thought it was to do with your trial.” “Of course it is,”

said K.‘s uncle, who then asked K., “So what is it you want?” “Yes, but how is it that you know anything about me and my case?” asked K. “Oh, I see,” said the lawyer with a smile. “I am a lawyer, I move in court circles, people talk about various different cases and the more interesting ones stay in your mind, especially when they concern the nephew of a friend. There’s nothing very remarkable about that.” “What is it you want, then?” asked K.‘s uncle once more, “You seem so uneasy about it” “You move in this court’s circles?” asked K. “Yes,” said the lawyer. “You’re asking questions like a child,” said K.‘s uncle. “What circles should I move in, then, if not with members of my own discipline?” the lawyer added. It sounded so indisputable that K. gave no answer at all. “But you work in the High Court, not that court in the attic,” he had wanted to say but could not bring himself to actually utter it. “You have to realise,” the lawyer continued, in a tone as if he were explaining something obvious, unnecessary and incidental, “you have to realise that I also derive great advantage for my clients from mixing with those people, and do so in many different ways, it’s not something you can keep talking about all the time. I’m at a bit of a disadvantage now, of course, because of my illness, but I still get visits from some good friends of mine at the court and I learn one or two things. It might even be that I learn more than many of those who are in the best of health and spend all day in court. And I’m receiving a very welcome visit right now, for instance.” And he pointed into a dark corner of the room. “Where?” asked K., almost uncouth in his surprise. He looked round uneasily; the little candle gave off far too little light to reach as far as the wall opposite. And then, something did indeed begin to move there in the corner. In the light of the candle held up by K.‘s uncle an elderly gentleman could be seen sitting beside a small table. He had been sitting there for so long without being noticed that he could hardly have been breathing. Now he stood up with a great deal of fuss, clearly unhappy that attention had been drawn to him. It was as if, by flapping his hands about like short wings, he hoped to deflect any introductions and greetings, as if he wanted on no account to disturb the others by his presence and seemed to be exhorting them to leave him back in the dark and forget about his being there.

That, however, was something that could no longer be granted him. “You took us by surprise, you see,” said the lawyer in explanation, cheerfully indicating to the gentleman that he should come closer, which, slowly, hesitatingly, looking all around him, but with a certain dignity, he did. “The office director - oh, yes, forgive me, I haven’t introduced you - this is my friend Albert K., this is his nephew, the chief clerk Josef K., and this is the office director - so, the office director was kind enough to pay me a visit. It’s only possible to appreciate just how valuable a visit like this is if you’ve been let into the secret of what a pile of work the office director has heaped over him. Well, he came anyway, we were having a peaceful chat, as far as I was able when I’m so weak, and although we hadn’t told Leni she mustn’t let anyone in as we weren’t expecting anyone, we still would rather have remained alone, but then along came you, Albert, thumping your fists on the door, the office director moved over into the corner pulling his table and chair with him, but now it turns out we might have, that is, if that’s what you wish, we might have something to discuss with each other and it would be good if we can all come back together again. - Office director … , ” he said with his head on one side, pointing with a humble smile to an armchair near the bed. “I’m afraid I’ll only be able to stay a few minutes more,” smiled the office director as he spread himself out in the armchair and looked at the clock. “Business calls. But I wouldn’t want to miss the chance of meeting a friend of my friend.” He inclined his head slightly toward K.‘s uncle, who seemed very happy with his new acquaintance, but he was not the sort of person to express his feelings of deference and responded to the office director’s words with embarrassed, but loud, laughter. A horrible sight! K. was able to quietly watch everything as nobody paid any attention to him, the office director took over as leader of the conversation as seemed to be his habit once he had been called forward, the lawyer listened attentively with his hand to his ear, his initial weakness having perhaps only had the function of driving away his new visitors, K.‘s uncle served as candle-bearer -

balancing the candle on his thigh while the office director frequently glanced nervously at it - and was soon free of his embarrassment and was quickly enchanted not only by the office director’s speaking manner but also by the gentle, waving hand-movements with which he accompanied it.

K., leaning against the bedpost, was totally ignored by the office director, perhaps deliberately, and served the old man only as audience.

And besides, he had hardly any idea what the conversation was about and his thoughts soon turned to the care assistant and the ill treatment she had suffered from his uncle. Soon after, he began to wonder whether he had not seen the office director somewhere before, perhaps among the people who were at his first hearing. He may have been mistaken, but thought the office director might well have been among the old gentlemen with the thin beards in the first row.

 

There was then a noise that everyone heard from the hallway as if something of porcelain were being broken. “I’ll go and see what’s happened,” said K., who slowly left the room as if giving the others the chance to stop him. He had hardly stepped into the hallway, finding his bearings in the darkness with his hand still firmly holding the door, when another small hand, much smaller than K.‘s own, placed itself on his and gently shut the door. It was the carer who had been waiting there. “Nothing has happened,” she whispered to him, “I just threw a plate against the wall to get you out of there.” “I was thinking about you, as well,” replied K. uneasily. “So much the better,” said the carer. “Come with me”. A few steps along, they came to a frosted glass door which the carer opened for him. “Come in here,” she said. It was clearly the lawyer’s office, fitted out with old, heavy furniture, as far as could be seen in the moonlight which now illuminated just a small, rectangular section of the floor by each of the three big windows. “This way,” said the carer, pointing to a dark trunk with a carved, wooden backrest. When he had sat down, K. continued to look round the room, it was a large room with a high ceiling, the clients of this lawyer for the poor must have felt quite lost in it. K. thought he could see the little steps with which visitors would approach the massive desk. But then he forgot about all of this and had eyes only for the carer who sat very close beside him, almost pressing him against the armrest. “I did think,” she said “you would come out here to me by yourself with me having to call you first. It was odd. First you stare at me as soon as you come in, and then you keep me waiting. And you ought to call me Leni, too,” she added quickly and suddenly, as if no moment of this conversation should be lost. “Gladly,” said K. “But as for its being odd, Leni, that’s easy to explain. Firstly, I had to listen to what the old men were saying and couldn’t leave without a good reason, but secondly I’m not a bold person, if anything I’m quite shy, and you, Leni, you didn’t really look like you could be won over in one stroke, either.” “That’s not it,” said Leni, laying one arm on the armrest and looking at K., “you didn’t like me, and I don’t suppose you like me now, either.” “Liking wouldn’t be very much,” said K., evasively. “Oh!” she exclaimed with a smile, thus making use of K.‘s comment to gain an advantage over him. So K. remained silent for a while. By now, he had become used to the darkness in the room and was able to make out various fixtures and fittings. He was especially impressed by a large picture hanging to the right of the door, he leant forward in order to see it better. It depicted a man wearing a judge’s robes; he was sitting on a lofty throne gilded in a way that shone forth from the picture. The odd thing about the picture was that this judge was not sitting there in dignified calm but had his left arm pressed against the back and armrest, his right arm, however, was completely free and only grasped the armrest with his hand, as if about to jump up any moment in vigorous outrage and make some decisive comment or even to pass sentence. The accused was probably meant to be imagined at the foot of the steps, the top one of which could be seen in the picture, covered with a yellow carpet. “That might be my judge,” said K., pointing to the picture with one finger. “I know him,” said Leni looking up at the picture, “he comes here quite often. That picture is from when he was young, but he can never have looked anything like it, as he’s tiny, minute almost. But despite that, he had himself made to look bigger in the picture as he’s madly vain, just like everyone round here. But even I’m vain and that makes me very unhappy that you don’t like me.” K. replied to that last comment merely by embracing Leni and drawing her towards him, she lay her head quietly on his shoulder. To the rest of it, though, he said, “What rank is he?” “He’s an examining judge,”