The Castle: A New Translation Based on the Restored Text

by Franz Kafka

  “Fine,” said the landlady, pressing her face into the pillows as if she were saying something shameful, “if I succeed through my connections in getting your request for a conversation forwarded to Klamm, promise me you won’t try anything on your own initiative until an answer comes down.”

  “That I cannot promise,” said K., “much as I would like to grant your request, or whim. This is urgent, you see, especially after the unfavorable outcome of my meeting with the chairman.”

  “That objection isn’t applicable,” said the landlady, “the chairman is utterly insignificant. So you never noticed? He wouldn’t last a day in his position were it not for his wife, who runs everything.”

  “Mizzi?” asked K. The landlady nodded. “She was there,” said K.

  “Did she express an opinion?” asked the landlady.

  “No,” said K., “but I did not get the impression that she was capable of that.”

  “That’s it,” said the landlady, “that’s how wrongly you view everything here. Besides: the chairman’s decision concerning you has no significance, and I shall certainly speak with his wife at some point. And if I now promise you that Klamm’s reply will arrive a week from now at the latest, then you will surely not keep on coming up with new reasons for not giving in to me.”

  “None of that is decisive,” said K., “my decision stands, and I would try to carry it out even if the answer that arrived were negative. But since this has been my intention from the start, I obviously cannot request an interview in advance. What remains in the absence of that request a daring but well-meant venture would after an adverse answer be open rebellion. And that of course would be far worse.”

  “Worse?” said the landlady. “It’s rebelliousness anyhow. And now do as you like. Hand me my skirt.”

  Showing no consideration for K., she pulled on her skirt and hurried to the kitchen. For some time now a commotion had been audible from the parlor. Someone was knocking on the spy window. The assistants had at one point opened it and shouted in that they were hungry. Other faces had appeared there, too. Even a song, faint but in several parts, could be heard.

  K.’s conversation with the landlady had naturally very much delayed the cooking of lunch; it was not yet ready, but the guests were assembled; still nobody had dared to defy the landlady’s prohibition by entering the kitchen. But now when the observers at the spy window announced that the landlady was coming, the maids immediately ran into the kitchen, and when K. entered the parlor an amazingly large company, more than twenty, men and women, dressed provincially though not like peasants, poured from the spy window, where they had gathered, to the tables, in order to secure places for themselves. Only at one small table in the corner was a couple already seated with several children, the man, a friendly blue-eyed gentleman with tousled gray hair and a beard, was bending down to the children and beating time with a knife for their song, which he kept trying to quiet down. Perhaps he wanted to make them forget their hunger by getting them to sing. The landlady excused herself before the company with a few casually spoken words, nobody reproached her for this. She looked around for the landlord, who had surely fled the difficult situation some time ago. Then she went slowly into the kitchen; for K., who was hurrying to Frieda in his room, she hadn’t a glance to spare.

  VII.

  THE TEACHER

  Upstairs K. met the teacher. The room was fortunately almost unrecognizable, so diligent had Frieda been. It had been given a good airing, the stove was lit, the floor had been scrubbed, the bed straightened out, the maids’ things, all that disgusting rubbish, including their pictures, had vanished, and the table, which used to stare at you with its dirt-encrusted top no matter which way you turned, had been covered with a crocheted white cloth. Now you could receive guests; that K.’s small batch of laundry, which Frieda had obviously washed this morning, hung by the stove to dry, barely spoiled the effect. The teacher and Frieda had been sitting at the table, they rose as K. entered, Frieda greeted K. with a kiss, the teacher bowed slightly. K., still distracted and uneasy after the conversation with the landlady, began to excuse himself for not having visited the teacher; it was as if he assumed that the teacher had become impatient over his failure to appear and had now called on him instead. In his measured way the teacher seemed only gradually to recall that he and K. had once spoken about a possible visit. “Surveyor,” he said slowly, “you are indeed the stranger I spoke to in the church square a few days ago.” “Yes,” said K. curtly; the sort of thing he had put up with earlier in his isolation, he no longer had to tolerate in his own room. He turned to Frieda and mentioned an important visit that he had to make at once and needed to be as well dressed as possible for. Immediately, without asking for an explanation, Frieda called the assistants, who were busy inspecting the new tablecloth, and ordered them down to the courtyard to clean with great care K.’s clothes and shoes, which he had already begun to remove. She herself took a shirt from the line and ran down to the kitchen to iron it.

  Now K. was alone with the teacher, who again sat at the table in silence, K. made him wait a little longer, took off his shirt and began to wash at the basin. Only then, with his back to the teacher, did K. ask why he had come. “I have come on instructions from the chairman,” he said. K. was prepared to listen to the instructions. But since K.’s words were difficult to understand with all the splashing, the teacher had to come closer, and he leaned against the wall next to K. K. excused his washing and his agitation by mentioning the urgency of the planned visit. Ignoring this, the teacher said: “You were impolite to the council chairman, that worthy, experienced, and venerable old man.” “I’m not aware of having been impolite,” said K., drying himself, “though you’re quite right that I have more important things to worry about than fancy manners, for what was at stake was my livelihood, which has been jeopardized by the ignominious machinations of officialdom, the details of which I needn’t fill you in on, since you yourself are an active part of that official apparatus. Has the council chairman ever complained about me?” “Whom do you think he could complain to?” said the teacher, “and even if there were such a person, do you think he would ever complain? I simply took down from his dictation a short deposition concerning that meeting, and this has given me insight into the kindness of the chairman and the quality of your answers.” As K. looked for his comb, which Frieda must have tidied away somewhere, he said: “What? A deposition? Taken down afterwards, in my absence, by someone who wasn’t even present at the meeting. Not bad at all. But why a deposition? Was it official business?” “No,” said the teacher, “it was semiofficial, the deposition itself is only semiofficial and was only drawn up because everything must be kept strictly in order here. Anyhow it’s finished, and reflects badly on your honor.” K., who had finally found the comb, which had slipped between the covers of the bed, said more calmly: “Well then, let it be finished. And you’ve come here to inform me of that?” “No,” said the teacher, “but I’m not an automaton and had to tell you what I think. The chairman’s instructions, on the other hand, offer further proof of his kindness; I would like to stress that I find his kindness incomprehensible and am carrying out his instructions only as an official duty and out of respect for the chairman.” Washed and combed, K. sat at the table waiting for his shirt and clothes, he had little interest in the message the teacher had brought; besides, he was influenced by the landlady’s low opinion of the chairman. “It must already be past twelve?” he asked, thinking of the way he wanted to go, but then on second thoughts he added: “You were about to give me some message from the chairman.” “Oh yes,” the teacher said with a shrug, as though shaking off all responsibility. “The chairman fears that if the decision in your case takes too long, you will take the initiative and do something rash. As for me, I don’t know why he fears that, for to my mind it would be best if you did as you pleased. We are not your guardian angels and don’t have to follow you down every single byway. Well, all right. The chairman think
s differently. Of course the actual decision, which is handled by the Count’s authorities, is not something he can speed up. But within his sphere of influence he seems to want to arrive at a truly generous temporary settlement, which you are free to accept or to reject, he is offering you temporarily the post of school janitor.” At first K. almost ignored the offer he had been made, but the very fact of his being offered something was, it seemed to him, not without significance. It showed that the chairman thought him capable of carrying out acts in his own defense that would even justify certain expenses by the community so as to protect itself. And how seriously they were taking the whole thing. The teacher, who had already been waiting here a while and had prepared the deposition beforehand, must have been literally chased over by the chairman.

  When the teacher saw that he had finally made K. stop and reflect, he went on: “I stated my objections. I pointed out that we had managed without a school janitor up to now, the wife of the sexton tidies up now and then, and her work is supervised by the schoolmistress, Miss Gisa, I already have enough torment with the children, I don’t want the added bother of a janitor. The chairman countered that the schoolhouse was actually very dirty. I replied, truthfully, that it wasn’t so bad. And besides, I added, would things get any better if we took that man on as janitor? Certainly not. Quite apart from his ignorance of that kind of work, the schoolhouse has only two large classrooms, without any small adjoining rooms, so the janitor and his family must live, sleep, and perhaps even cook in one of the classrooms, and of course this will hardly enhance the general cleanliness. The chairman, though, declared that the position would assist you in time of need and that you would therefore discharge your duties well, with great energy; besides, the chairman said that we would, in addition to you, gain the services of your wife and assistants, and that the school and the garden, too, could be kept in impeccable condition. I rebutted all this easily. Finally, the chairman, unable to come up with anything else in your favor, laughed and said that you were a surveyor so you should be able to lay out marvelously straight flowerbeds. Well, there’s no point objecting to a joke, so I brought you the message.” “Teacher, you needn’t worry about that,” said K., “I would not even consider accepting the post.” “Splendid,” said the teacher, “splendid, you decline, and unconditionally at that,” and, picking up his hat, he bowed and left.

  Immediately thereafter Frieda came up, her face was distraught, she still hadn’t ironed the shirt she was carrying and did not respond to questions; in order to distract her a little, K. told her about the teacher and his offer; no sooner had she heard it than she threw the shirt on the bed and ran off again. She was soon back, though this time with the teacher, who looked annoyed and didn’t even greet K. Frieda asked him to be patient for a while—she had obviously done so several times on the way here—then pulled K. through a side door he hadn’t noticed into the neighboring attic, where, excited and breathless, she finally told him what had happened. The landlady, incensed at having humiliated herself by making certain confessions to K. and, worse still, at having given way over an interview between Klamm and K.—for she had gained nothing, so she said, but a cold and, what’s more, insincere rebuff—was determined not to tolerate K.’s presence in her house any longer; if he had any connections with the Castle, then he should take advantage of them right away, for he must leave the inn today, this instant, and she would take him back only if expressly ordered or compelled to do so by the authorities, but she hoped this would never happen, for she too had connections with the Castle, and would know how to make use of them. Incidentally, he had been admitted to the inn only through the negligence of the landlord, besides he was in no real need, for even this morning he had boasted about other lodgings that were available to him. Of course Frieda should stay; if Frieda moved out with K., she, the landlady, would be deeply unhappy; she, a poor woman with a weak heart, had already collapsed in tears downstairs by the stove in the kitchen at the mere thought of it, but how could she respond any differently, for at least in her opinion the honor of Klamm’s memory was at stake. That’s how the landlady feels. Frieda would certainly follow him, K., wherever he wanted to go, in the snow and ice, and no more need be said on that score; anyhow, the situation was quite serious for both of them, which is why she had responded with such enthusiasm to the chairman’s offer; even if the post was unsuitable for K., it was, after all—and the chairman had singled this out for special emphasis—only a temporary one, and in that way they could gain some time and easily find other opportunities, even if the final decision proved unfavorable. “And if need be,” cried Frieda, who had already put her arms round K.’s neck, “we shall go abroad, what keeps us here in the village? Temporarily, though, we accept the offer, don’t we, dearest, I’ve brought the teacher back, you just have to say ‘agreed,’ that’s all, and then we’ll move into the schoolhouse.”

  “That’s terrible,” said K., though without really meaning it seriously, for their housing was of little concern to him, besides he was freezing in his underwear here in the attic, which, lacking both wall and window on two sides, was swept by a cold sharp wind, “now that you’ve done up the room so beautifully, we’re supposed to move out. I have little desire, very little desire, to take on the post, that one brief moment of humiliation in front of this little teacher is already embarrassing enough, and now he’s even supposed to be my superior. If only we could stay a little longer, my situation might well change by this afternoon. Or at least if you stayed here on your own, we could wait and simply give the teacher some vague answer. I can always find a night’s lodging, if need be at Bar—” with her hand Frieda sealed his lips. “Don’t,” she said anxiously, “please don’t say that again. But otherwise I’ll do everything you want. If you want, I’ll stay here alone, though that would make me sad. If you want, we’ll reject the offer, but I think that would be wrong. For look, if you actually find another opportunity for us, possibly even this afternoon, we’ll immediately give up the post in the school, nobody will try to stop us. And as for your being humiliated in front of the teacher, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. I’ll speak to him, you need only be present, you don’t have to say a word, and it will always be this way, you will never have to speak to him yourself, unless you want to, indeed I’m the only one who will be his subordinate, and even I shall be no such thing, for I know his weaknesses. And therefore we won’t lose anything if we accept the post, but a great deal if we turn it down; above all else, if you don’t get anything from the Castle today, you will certainly never find any lodgings here in the village—even for you alone—lodgings that I, as your future wife, wouldn’t have to feel ashamed of. And then when you fail to find lodgings, I suppose you’ll even expect me to sleep here in this warm room, knowing that you’re outside wandering about in the dark and cold.” K., who had crossed his arms on his chest and was slapping himself on the back in an effort to warm up a little, said: “Then we have no choice but to accept, come!”

  Once in the room he rushed straight to the stove, ignoring the teacher; the latter, who was seated at the table, pulled out his watch and said: “It’s gotten late.” “Yes, Teacher, but the two of us agree now,” said Frieda, “we accept the post.” “Fine,” said the teacher, “but the post was offered to the surveyor, he has to say what he thinks.” Frieda helped K. out, “Of course,” she said, “he accepts the post, don’t you, K.?” K. could therefore confine himself to a simple “Yes” that was addressed not to the teacher but to Frieda. “Well then,” said the teacher, “all I have to do now is point out your official duties, that way we will have agreed upon this once and for all: Surveyor, you must clean and heat both schoolrooms on a daily basis, assume responsibility for all minor repairs to the building, as well as to the school and gymnastic equipment, keep the garden path clear of snow, run messages for myself and the schoolmistress, and in the milder seasons do all the gardening. In exchange you may live in whichever schoolroom you choose; if the two rooms are not b
oth being used simultaneously for instruction and you happen to live in a room in which instruction is to take place, you must of course move into the other room. You may not cook in the schoolhouse, but in return you and your dependents will receive free board at the inn at the community’s expense. That your conduct must remain in keeping with the dignity of the school and that the children especially must not witness any disagreeable domestic scenes, particularly during class, I mention only in passing, for this is of course something that you, an educated person, must already know. In this regard I would also point out that we must insist that you legalize your relations with Miss Frieda as soon as possible. To cover these issues and a few other minor points there will be an employment contract, which you must sign on moving into the schoolhouse.” All this seemed unimportant to K., as if it didn’t apply to him or at least weren’t binding on him, but annoyed by the teacher’s self-importance, he said casually: “Oh yes, simply the usual commitments.” In an effort to cover up that comment, Frieda inquired about the salary. “The payment of a salary,” said the teacher, “will only be considered after a one-month probationary period.” “But that will make it hard for us,” said Frieda, “we are supposed to get married on almost no money and set up a household with nothing. Teacher, couldn’t we petition the council for a small salary right away? Would you recommend this?” “No,” said the teacher, addressing his remarks as always to K. alone. “Such a petition would be approved only if I recommended it, and I would not do so. You’re being awarded this post as a favor, and if one remains conscious of one’s official responsibilities one shouldn’t push such favors too far.” Now, however, K. broke in, almost against his will. “Teacher, as far as the favor goes,” he said, “I believe you are mistaken. The favor may be more on my side.” “No,” said the teacher, smiling now that he had actually forced K. to speak, “I have precise information about this. Our need for a janitor is about as urgent as our need for a surveyor. Janitor and surveyor, that’s a weight round our necks. I must think long and hard about how to justify this expense to the council, but the best and most honest course would simply be to throw the demand down on the table without any attempt to justify it.” “That’s just what I mean,” said K., “even against your will you must take me on, no matter how serious the concerns this raises for you, you must still take me on. And when someone is obliged to take a person on and that person lets himself be taken on, then he’s the one doing the favor.” “Odd!” said the teacher, “what could possibly compel us to take you on, it’s the chairman’s kind heart, his excessively kind heart that compels us to do so. Surveyor, I see clearly now that you will have to give up many fantasies before you can become a decent janitor. And as for the eventual award of a salary, such comments naturally don’t help to create the right atmosphere for that. And I see, too, that your conduct will unfortunately cause me a lot of other trouble as well, you have all this time been negotiating with me, I keep staring and can hardly believe it, in your shirt and underpants.” “Yes,” K. exclaimed, laughing and clapping his hands, “but those dreadful assistants, what’s keeping them?” Frieda hurried to the door; the teacher, who noticed that K. was no longer paying any attention to him, asked Frieda when they would move into the schoolhouse. “Today,” said Frieda. “Well then, tomorrow morning I shall come to check,” said the teacher, waving goodbye; he was about to pass through the door, which Frieda had opened for herself, when he collided with the maids, who were already carrying in their things so that they could settle back into their room; blocked by the maids, who would never step aside for anyone, he had to slip between them, followed by Frieda. “You’re certainly in a hurry,” said K., very pleased with them now, “you come barging in even though we’re still here?” They didn’t answer, in their embarrassment they merely twisted the bundles with the all-too-familiar dirty rags sticking out. “You’ve probably never washed your things,” K. said, not so much out of malice as with a certain affection. They noticed it, opened their severe mouths, showed their beautiful strong animal-like teeth, and laughed silently. “Well, do come in,” said K., “settle down; it is after all your own room.” Yet since they hesitated—the changes in the room must have taken them aback—K. took one of them by the arm to lead her in. But he immediately let her go, so startled was the identical stare that after a brief exchange of glances they fixed on K. “But you’ve been staring at me long enough,” said K., and, fending off a certain unpleasant sensation, he picked up his clothes and shoes, which Frieda—with the assistants following timidly behind—had just brought in, and dressed. He had always found Frieda’s patience with the assistants incomprehensible, and this was once again so. After a long search she had discovered that the two of them, who ought to have been brushing the clothes in the courtyard, were quietly eating lunch downstairs, the still un-brushed clothes lay crumpled on their laps; then she was obliged to brush them herself, but though she certainly knew how to keep common people in check, she did nothing to rebuke the assistants, treated their utterly negligent behavior as a little joke, and even tapped one of them lightly, as if affectionately, upon the cheek. K. wanted to rebuke her later for this. But now it was high time to leave. “The assistants will stay behind to help you move,” said K. Yet they weren’t willing to accept this; well-fed and cheerful as they were now, they would have liked a little exercise. Only when Frieda said “You are staying here” did they fall in line. “Do you know where I’m going?” asked K. “Yes,” said Frieda. “So you’re no longer keeping me here?” asked K. “You’ll run into so many obstacles,” she said, “and then what would my words mean?” She kissed K. goodbye and, since he hadn’t eaten at noon, gave him a small package with bread and sausage, which she had brought up from the kitchen, reminded him that he should not come here but rather straight to the school, and accompanied him, with her hand on his shoulder, to the door.