by Franz Kafka
‘How do you know the man?’ asked Karl.
‘He still comes up here sometimes,’ said Robinson.
‘Up here?’ in his astonishment, Karl patted the floor with his hand.
‘You might well be amazed,’ Robinson continued, ‘I was amazed too, when the servant told me that at the time. Imagine, when Brunelda was out of the house, the man had himself admitted into her room by the butler, and he always took away some little nick-nack as a memento, and left something very fine and expensive in its place for Brunelda, with strict instructions to the butler not to say who it was from. But on one occasion – I have it from the butler, and I believe him – he left some absolutely priceless piece of porcelain, and Brunelda must have recognized it somehow, and she threw it on the floor and trod on it and spat on it, and did a few other things besides, so that the man was almost too disgusted to carry it outside.’
‘What had her husband done to her?’ asked Karl.
‘I don’t really know,’ said Robinson. ‘I don’t think it was anything too terrible, he doesn’t really know himself. I’ve spoken to him about it a few times. He waits for me down on the corner every day, if I come, I have to give him some bit of news, and if I can’t, he waits for half an hour, and then goes away again. It was a good source of income for me, because he pays handsomely for any news, but since Delamarche got wind of it, I have to hand everything over to him, and so I don’t go so often any more.’
‘But what does the man want?’ asked Karl, ‘what does he want? He must know she won’t have him back.’
‘Yes,’ sighed Robinson, lit a cigarette, and, waving his arms expansively, blew the smoke into the sky. Then something else seemed to occur to him, and he said: ‘What do I care? All I know is he’d give a lot of money to lie here on the balcony, like us.’
Karl stood up, leaned against the railing and looked down on the street. The moon was now visible, but its light didn’t yet reach into the depths of the street. The street, so empty by day, was now crammed full of people, especially the entrances to the buildings, everyone was in slow cumbersome movement, the shirtsleeves of the men and the light dresses of the women stood out a little from the darkness, all were bareheaded. The many balconies round about were all occupied now, there by the light of an electric lamp sat families, either round a small table or on a row of chairs, whatever suited the size of their particular balcony, or at the very least, they stuck their heads out of windows. The men sat there, legs apart, feet pushed through the railings, reading newspapers that reached down almost to the floor, or they played cards, apparently wordlessly, but smacking the cards down powerfully on the table, the women had their laps full of mending, and only occasionally allowed themselves a quick glance at their surroundings or at the street below, a frail blonde woman on the next door balcony kept yawning, rolling her eyes as she did, and covering her mouth with a garment she was just patching, even on the smallest balconies children seemed able to chase one another, which was tremendously irritating to the parents. Gramophones had been put on inside many of the rooms, and pumped out vocal or orchestral music, people weren’t particularly bothered about the music, only from time to time the head of the family would gesture, and someone would run into the room to put on a new record. At some of the windows you could see completely motionless lovers, one such couple stood at a window facing Karl, the young man had his arm round the girl and was squeezing her breast with his hand.
‘Do you know any of the neighbours,’ Karl asked Robinson, who had got up now, and because he was cold had wrapped himself up in Brunelda’s blanket in addition to his own.
‘Almost no one. That’s the drawback to my position,’ said Robinson, and pulled Karl closer to whisper in his ear, ‘otherwise I wouldn’t have so much to complain about just now. Brunelda sold everything she had on account of Delamarche, and with all her wealth she moved into this apartment in the suburbs with him, so that she could devote herself entirely to him without anyone to bother her, which is what Delamarche wanted as well.’
‘So she dismissed her servants?’ Karl asked.
‘That’s right,’ said Robinson. ‘Where was there for them to stay here anyway? These servants are a very pampered lot. Once at Brunelda’s, Delamarche drove one of them out of the room with a succession of slaps, left and right, until the fellow was out of the door. Then of course all the other servants got together with him and made a noise outside the door, and then Delamarche came out (in those days I wasn’t a servant, I was a friend of the family’s, though I mostly hung around with the servants), and asked: “What d’you want?” The oldest servant, a fellow by the name of Isidor, said: “You have nothing to say to us, madam is our mistress.” As you probably noticed, they worshipped Brunelda. But Brunelda ran over to Delamarche without bothering about them, she wasn’t so heavy then as she is now, and hugged and kissed him in front of them all, and called him “darling Delamarche”. “And get rid of those jackanapes” she finally said. Jackanapes – she was referring to the servants, you should have seen their expression. Then Brunelda pulled Delamarche’s hand down to the purse that she wore round her waist, and Delamarche reached into it and started paying off the servants, Brunelda played no part in it, other than standing there with an open purse at her waist. Delamarche had to reach into it a lot, because he handed out the money without counting it and without checking the claims they made. Finally he said: “Since you don’t want to talk to me, I’d just like to tell you in Brunelda’s name: Get out of here, and make it fast.” And that was how they were dismissed, there was some wrangling after that, Delamarche even had to go to court once, but I don’t really know what happened there. But immediately the servants were all gone, Delamarche said to Brunelda: “So now you’ve got no servants?” She said: “But what about Robinson.” And Delamarche gave me a slap on the back and said: “All right, you can be our servant.” And Brunelda gave me a pat on the cheek, if you ever get a chance, Rossmann, get her to pat you on the cheek, there’s nothing like it.’
‘So you became Delamarche’s servant?’ asked Karl, summing up.
Robinson heard the note of pity in the question, and replied: ‘I’m the servant, but very few people realize that. Remember, you didn’t notice it yourself, even though you’ve been with us a while. You saw the way I was dressed that night in the hotel with you. Nothing but the best, and do servants go around like that? Only, the thing is this: I’m rarely allowed to go out, I always have to be around, there’s always something needs doing in the house. One person just isn’t enough for so much work. Perhaps you noticed, we’ve got lots of things standing around in the room, whatever we weren’t able to sell when we moved out we had to take with us. Of course we could have given it away, but that’s not how Brunelda operates. Just imagine the labour of carrying those things up the stairs.’
‘Do you mean to say you carried all that up the stairs, Robinson?’ Karl exclaimed.
‘Who else?’ said Robinson. ‘There was a man to help me, a lazy beggar, I had to do most of it by myself. Brunelda stayed downstairs by the car, Delamarche gave the instructions upstairs, where to put things, and I kept going back and forth. It took two days, a long time, isn’t it? but you’ve no idea how many things are up here in the room, all the boxes are full and behind the boxes everything’s stacked up to the ceiling. If we’d taken on a couple of people to do the removal, it could all have been done very quickly, but Brunelda didn’t want to entrust it to anyone else but me. That’s very nice, but I ruined my health for the rest of my days doing it, and what else have I got but my health. If I exert myself even a tiny bit, I feel it here and here and here. Do you imagine those boys in the hotel, those bullfrogs – what else can you call them? – could ever have beaten me, if I’d been fit. But whatever’s the matter with me, I’ll never breathe a word to Delamarche and Brunelda, I’ll go on working for as long as I can until I’m completely incapacitated, and then I’ll lay myself down and die, and only then, too late, they’ll see I was sick and
in spite of that went on and on working, and finally worked myself to death in their service. Oh Rossmann,’ he said finally, drying his eyes on Karl’s sleeve. After a little while he said: ‘Aren’t you cold, standing there in your shirt.’
‘Come on, Robinson,’ said Karl, ‘you’re forever crying. I don’t think you’re that sick. You look pretty healthy to me, but because you always lie out on the balcony, you’ve been having thoughts. Maybe you do have an occasional pain in your chest, so do I, so does everyone. If everyone in the world would cry like that over every trifling thing, they’d all be crying on all the balconies.’
‘No, I know better,’ said Robinson, now wiping his eyes on the corner of his blanket. ‘The student who lives with our landlady next door, who also used to cook for us, he said to me as I was taking back the plates recently: “I say, Robinson, you do look unwell.” I’m not allowed to talk to those people, so I just put the plates down and turned to leave. Then he went up to me and said: “Listen, man, don’t overdo it, you’re sick.” “Very well, then tell me what to do about it,” I asked. “That’s your affair,” he said, and turned away. The others sitting at the table laughed, we have enemies all over, and so I preferred just to leave.’
‘And so you believe people who are making a fool of you, and not those who mean well by you.’
‘But I’m the one who knows how I feel,’ Robinson exploded, but straightaway burst into tears again.
‘That’s just it, you don’t know what the matter is with you, you should look for some proper job for yourself, instead of being Delamarche’s servant here. As far as I can tell from what you’ve told me, and from what I’ve seen for myself, this isn’t service, it’s slavery. No one can stand that, I’m sure you’re right there. But you think that because you’re Delamarche’s friend, you can’t leave him. That’s wrong, if he refuses to see what a miserable life you’ve got, then you’ve no obligation to him whatever.’
‘So Rossmann, you really believe I’ll get better if I stop serving here?’
‘I’m convinced of it,’ said Karl.
‘Convinced?’ Robinson repeated.
‘Utterly,’ said Karl, with a smile.
‘Then I could start feeling better very soon,’ said Robinson, looking at Karl.
‘How’s that?’ he asked.
‘Well, because you’re due to take over from me here,’ replied Robinson.
‘Who told you that?’ asked Karl.
‘That’s a well-established plan. We’ve been talking about that for several days now. It began with Brunelda ticking me off for not keeping the apartment clean enough. Of course I promised to fix it all right away. But that’s far from easy. For example, in my condition, I can’t crawl around everywhere to wipe up the dust, you can’t even move freely in the middle of the room, so how could you amongst all the furniture and supplies. And if you want to clean anything really properly, that means moving the furniture and how can I do that by myself? And then it would all have to be done very quietly, because Brunelda hardly ever leaves the room, and she mustn’t be disturbed. So I promised I would clean everything, but in fact I didn’t. When Brunelda noticed, she told Delamarche that it couldn’t go on like that, and they’d have to take on some more help. “Delamarche” she said, “I don’t want you to reproach me for my running of the household. I’m not allowed to strain myself, you understand that, and Robinson isn’t enough on his own, at first he was willing and looked around everywhere, but now he’s tired the whole time, and just mopes in a corner. But a room with as many things in it as ours doesn’t just look after itself.” Then Delamarche went and had a think about what to do, because of course you can’t just take anyone into a household like ours, not even for a trial period, because people are always gossiping about us. But because I’m a good friend of yours, and heard from Renell how they were making you sweat in the hotel, I thought of you. Delamarche agreed to it right away, even though you were so cheeky to him before, and of course I was very happy to be able to do you such a service. Because this job might have been made for you, you’re young, strong and adroit, while I’m not up to anything any more. Only I just have to warn you that it’s not quite a foregone conclusion yet, if Brunelda doesn’t like you, we couldn’t keep you. So try and make an effort to please her, and I’ll see to the rest myself.’
‘And what will you do once I’m the servant here?’ Karl took the liberty of asking, once the initial shock of Robinson’s news had worn off. So Delamarche had nothing worse in store for him than making him into his servant – if he’d had any worse intentions, that blabbermouthed Robinson would certainly have revealed them – but if this was how things stood, then Karl thought he might go through with his departure this very night. And while it had been Karl’s concern previously, following his dismissal from the hotel, to find another job in short order so he didn’t go hungry, a proper job, if possible, as respectable as his last, now, in comparison to this job proposed here, which was repulsive to him, any other job would be welcome, and even a period of hunger and unemployment would be preferable to this. He made no attempt to explain as much to Robinson, though, not least as Robinson’s views would be coloured by his hopes of being relieved by Karl.
‘So,’ said Robinson, accompanying his speech with complacent hand movements – he had his elbows propped on the railing – ‘so I’ll explain everything to you and show you the supplies. You’re educated, and I’m sure you write a clear hand, so you could draw up an inventory of all the things we have here. Brunelda has been wanting that for ages. If it’s fine tomorrow morning, we’ll ask Brunelda to sit out on the balcony, and then we’ll be able to work quietly inside without disturbing her. Because one thing you have to bear in mind, Rossmann, above all. Don’t disturb Brunelda. She hears everything, it’s probably because she’s a singer that she has such terribly sensitive ears. For instance if you roll out the brandy barrel behind the chests, that makes a noise just because it’s so heavy, and then there are various things lying in its path, so you can’t roll it away at one fell swoop. Say Brunelda is lying quietly on the sofa, catching flies, which are a terrific nuisance for her. You think she’s not paying any attention, and carry on rolling the barrel. She’s still lying peacefully. But in a moment, and when you’re least expecting it, and when you’re making the least amount of noise, she suddenly sits bolt upright, bangs the sofa with both hands, so that she disappears in a cloud of dust – I haven’t been able to beat the sofa in all the time we’ve been here, after all how can I, she’s always lying on it – and starts this terrible shouting like a man, and goes on for hours. The neighbours have stopped her from singing, but no one can stop her from shouting, she has to shout, it only happens quite rarely nowadays by the way, Delamarche and I are very careful. It did her a lot of harm as well. Once she became unconscious, so – Delamarche was away at the time – I had to fetch the student from next door, who sprayed her with some liquid from a big bottle, and it helped too, but the liquid had an insufferable smell, even now if you stick your nose in the sofa, you can still smell it. That student is definitely an enemy of ours, like everyone here, you should be wary of everyone and not get involved with any of them.’
‘I say, Robinson,’ said Karl, ‘that all sounds like hard work. This is some job you’ve put me up for.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Robinson, and shook his head with serenely closed eyes, to dispel all possible worries of Karl’s, ‘the job also brings advantages with it like no other. You’re in continual close proximity with a lady like Brunelda, sometimes you sleep in the same room as her, that, as you can imagine, has various amenities associated with it. You will be generously paid, money is there in copious amounts, as a friend of Delamarche’s I wasn’t actually given any, except when I went out Brunelda gave me some, but of course you will be paid just like a regular servant. Because that’s all you’ll be. The most important thing for you, though, is that I will be able to make it a great deal easier for you. To begin with, of course, I won’t do
anything so I can recuperate, but as soon as I feel a little better, you’ll be able to count on me. The actual attendance on Brunelda I’m going to keep as my preserve, which is to say dressing her and doing her hair, inasmuch as that isn’t done by Delamarche. You’ll only have to deal with the tidying of the room, the shopping and the heavy housework.’
‘No, Robinson,’ said Karl, ‘I’m really not tempted.’
‘Don’t be an idiot, Rossmann,’ said Robinson, very close to Karl’s face, ‘don’t pass up this fine opportunity. Where else will you get a job right away? Who knows you? Whom do you know?’ We, two men who have knocked around a lot and have a lot of experience, went around for weeks without finding any work. It’s not easy, in fact it’s desperately hard.’
