The Castle (11 page)

Now, as I said, it's just these decisions that are generally excellent. The only annoying thing about them - it's usually the case with such things - is that one learns too late about them and so in the meantime keeps on still passionately canvassing things that were decided long ago. I don't know whether in your case a decision of this kind happened - some people say yes, others no - but if it had happened then the summons would have been sent to you and you would have made the long journey to this place, much time would have passed, and in the meanwhile Sordini would have been working away here all the time on the same case until he was exhausted. Brunswick would have been intriguing, and I would have been plagued by both of them. I only indicate this possibility, but I know the following for a fact: a Control Official discovered meanwhile that a query had gone out from the Department A to the Town Council many years before regarding a Land Surveyor, without having received a reply up till then. A new inquiry was sent to me, and now the whole business was really cleared up. Department A was satisfied with my answer that a|

Land Surveyor was not needed, and Sordini was forced to recognize that he had not been equal to this case and, innocently it is true, had got through so much nerveracking work for nothing. If new work hadn't come rushing in as ever from every side, and if your case hadn't been a very unimportant case - onemight almost say the least important among the unimportant we might all of us have breathed freely again, I fancy even Sordini himself. Brunswick was the only one that grumbled, but that was only ridiculous.

And now imagine to yourself, Land Surveyor, my dismay when after the fortunate end of the whole business - and since then, too, a great deal of time had passed by suddenly you appear and it begins to look as if the whole thing must begin all over again. You'll understand of course that I'm firmly resolved, so far as I'm concerned, not to let that happen in any case?"

"Certainly," said K., "but I understand better still that a terrible abuse of my case, and probably of the law, is being carried on. As for me, I shall know how to protect myself against it."

"How will you do it?" asked the Superintendent.

"I'm not at liberty to reveal that," said K.

"I don't want to press myself upon you," said the Superintendent, "only I would like you to reflect that in me you have - I won't say a friend, for we're complete strangers of course - but to some extent a business friend. The only thing I will not agree to is that you should be taken on as Land Surveyor, but in other matters you can draw on me with confidence, frankly to the extent of my power, which isn't great."

"You always talk of the one thing," said K., "that I shan't be taken on as Land Surveyor, but I'm Land Surveyor already, here is Klamm's letter."

"Klamm's letter," said the Superintendent. "That's valuable and worthy of respect on account of Klamm's signature which seems to be genuine, but all the same - yet I won't dare to advance it on my own unsupported word. Mizzi," he called, and then: "But what are you doing?"

Mizzi and the assistants, left so long unnoticed, had clearly not found the paper they were looking for, and had then tried to shut everything up again in the cabinet, but on account of the confusion and superabundance of papers had not succeeded. Then the assistants had hit upon the idea which they were carrying out now. They had laid the cabinet on its back on the floor, crammed all the documents in, then along with Mizzi had knelt on the cabinet door and were trying now in this way to get it shut.

"So the paper hasn't been found," said the Superintendent. "A pity, but you know the story already. Really we don't need the paper now, besides it will certainly be found sometime yet. Probably it's at the teacher's place, there's a great pile of papers there too. But come over here now with the candle, Mizzi, and read this letter for me."

Mizzi went over and now looked still more grey and insignificant as she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned against the strong, vigorous man, who put his arm round her. In the candlelight only her pinched face was cast into relief, its simple and austere lines softened by nothing but age. Hardly had she glanced at the letter when she clasped her hands lightly and said:

"From Klamm."

Then they read the letter together, whispered for a moment, and at last, just as the assistants gave a "Hurrah!" for they had finally got the cabinet door shut which earned them a look of silent gratitude from Mizzi - then Superintendent said: "Mizzi is quite of my opinion and now I am at liberty to press it. This letter is in no sense an official letter, but only a private letter. That can be clearly seen in the very mode of address:

"My dear Sir." Moreover, there isn't a single word in it showing that you've been taken on as Land Surveyor. On the contrary it's all about state service in general, and even that is not absolutely guaranteed, as you know, that is, the task of proving that you are taken on is laid on you. Finally, you are officially and expressly referred to me, the Superintendent, as your immediate superior, for more detailed information, which, indeed, has in great part been given already. To anyone who knows how to read official communications, and consequently knows still better how to read unofficial letters, all this is only too clear. That you, a stranger, don't know it doesn't surprise me. In general the letter means nothing more than that Klamm intends to take a personal interest in you if you should be taken into the state service."

"Superintendent," said K., "you interpret the letter so well that nothing remains of it but a signature on a blank sheet of paper. Don't you see that in doing this you depreciate Klamm's name, which you pretend to respect?"

"You misunderstand me," said the Superintendent, 'I don't change the meaning of the letter, my reading of it doesn't disparage it, on the contrary. A private letter from Klamm has naturally far more significance than an official letter, but it hasn't precisely the kind of significance that you attach to it."

"Do you know Schwarzer?" asked K.

"No," replied the Superintendent.

"Perhaps you know him, Mizzi? You don't know him either? No, we don't know him."

"That's strange," said K., "he's a son of one of the undercastellans."

"My dear Land Surveyor," replied the Superintendent, "how on earth should I know all the sons of all the under-castellans?"

"Right," said K., "then you'll just have to take my word that he is one. I had a sharp encounter with this Schwarzer on the very day of my arrival. Afterwards he made a telephone inquiry of an under-castellan called Fritz and received the information that I was engaged as Land Surveyor. How do you explain that, Superintendent?"

"Very simply," replied the Superintendent. "You haven't once up till now come into real contact with our authorities. All those contacts of yours have been illusory, but owing to your ignorance of the circumstances you take them to be real. And as for the telephone. As you see, in my place, though I've certainly enough to do with the authorities, there's no telephone. In inns and suchlike places it may be of real use, as much use say as a penny in-the-slot musical instrument, but it's nothing more than that.

Have you ever telephoned here? Yes? Well, then perhaps you'll understand what I say. In the Castle the telephone works beautifully of course, I've been told it's going there all the time, that naturally speeds up the work a great deal. We can hear this continual telephoning in our telephones down here as a humming and singing, you must have heard it too. Now this humming and singing transmitted by our telephones is the only real and reliable thing you'll hear, everything else is deceptive. There's no fixed connexion with the Castle, no central exchange transmits our calls further. When anybody calls up the Castle from here the instruments in all the subordinate departments ring, or rather they would all ring if practically all the departments -1 know it for a certainty - didn't leave their receivers off. Now and then, however, a fatigued official may feel the need of a little distraction, especially in the evenings and at night and may hang the receiver on. Then we get an answer, but an answer of course that's merely a practical joke. And that's very understandable too. For who would take the responsibility of interrupting, in the middle of the night, the extremely important work up there that goes on furiously the whole time, with a message about his own little private troubles? I can't comprehend how even a stranger can imagine that when he calls up Sordini, for example, it's really Sordini that answers. Far more probably it's a little copying clerk from an entirely different department. On the other hand, it may certainly happen once in a blue moon that when one calls up the little copying clerk Sordini will answer himself.

Then finally the best thing is to fly from the telephone before the first sound comes through."

"I didn't know it was like that, certainly," said K. "I couldn't know of all these peculiarities, but I didn't put much confidence in those telephone conversations and I was always aware that tfo only things of real importance were those that happened in the Castle itself."

"No," said the Superintendent, holding firmly on to the words, "these telephone replies certainly have a meaning, why shouldn't they? How could a message given by an official from the Castld be unimportant? As I remarked before apropos Klamm's letter. All these utterances have no official significance. When you attach official significance to them you go astray. On the other hand, their private significance in a friendly or hostile sense is very great, generally greater than an official communication could ever be."

"Good." said K. "Granted that all this is so, I should have lots of good friends in the Castle. Looked at rightly the sudden inspiration of that department all these years ago -

saying that a Land Surveyor should be asked to come-was an act of friendship towards myself. But then in the sequel one act was followed by another, until at last, on an evil day, I was enticed here and then threatened with being thrown out again"

"There's a certain amount of truth in your view of the case," said the Superintendent,

"you're right in thinking that the pronouncements of the Castle are not to be taken literally. But caution is always necessary, not only here, and always the more necessary the more important the pronouncement in question happens to be. But when you went on to talk about being enticed, I ceased to fathom you. If you had followed my explanation more carefully, then you must have seen that the question of your being summoned here is far too difficult to be settled here and now in the course of a short conversation."

"So the only remaining conclusion," said K., "is that everything is very uncertain and insoluble, including my being thrown out."

"Who would take the risk of throwing you out, Land Surveyor?" asked the Superintendent.

"The very uncertainty about your summons guarantees you the most courteous treatment, only you're too sensitive by all appearances. Nobody keeps you here, but that surely doesn't amount to throwing you out."

"Oh, Superintendent," said K., "now again you're taking far too simple a view of the case. I'll enumerate for your benefit a few of the things that keep me here: the sacrifice I made in leaving my home, the long and difficult journey, the wellgrounded hopes I built on my engagement here, my complete lack of means, the impossibility after this of finding some other suitable job at home, and last but not least my fiancee, who lives here."

"Oh, Frieda!" said the Superintendent without showing any surprise. "I know. But Frieda would follow you anywhere. As for the rest of what you've said, some consideration will be necessary and I'll communicate with the Castle about it. If a decision should be come to, or if it should be necessary first to interrogate you again, I'll send for you. Is that agreeable to you?"

"No, absolutely," said K., "I don't want any act of favour from the Castle, but my rights."

"Mizzi," the Superintendent said to his wife, who still sat pressed against him, and lost in a day-dream was playing with Klamm's letter, which she had folded into the shape of a little boat - K. snatched it from her in alarm.

"Mizzi, my foot is beginning to throb again, we must renew the compress."

K. got up.

"Then I'll take my leave," he said.

"Hm," said Mizzi, who was already preparing a poultice, "the last one was drawing too strongly."

K. turned away.

At his last words the assistants with their usual misplaced zeal to be useful had thrown open both wings of the door. To protect the sickroom from the strong draught of cold air which was rushing in, K. had to be content with making the Superintendent a hasty bow. Then, pushing the assistants in front of him, he rushed out of the room and quickly closed the door.

Before the inn the landlord was waiting for him. Without being questioned he would not have ventured to address him, accordingly K. asked what he wanted.

"Have you found new lodgings yet?" asked the landlord, looking at the ground.

"You were told to ask by your wife?" replied K., "you're very much under her influence?"

"No," said the landlord, "I didn't ask because of my wife. But she's very bothered and unhappy on your account, can't work, lies in bed and sighs and complains all the time."

"Shall I go and see her?" asked K.

"I wish you would," said the landlord. "I've been to the Superintendent's already to fetch you. I listened at the door but you were talking. I didn't want to disturb you, besides I was anxious about my wife and ran back again. But she wouldn't see me, so there was nothing for it but to wait for you."

"Then let's go at once," said K., "Ìll soon reassure her."

"If you could only manage it," said the landlord.

They went through the bright kitchen where three or four maids, engaged all in different corners at the work they were happening to be doing, visibly stiffened on seeing K. From the kitchen the sighing of the landlady could already be heard. She lay in a windowless annex separated from the kitchen by thin lath boarding. There was room in it only for a huge family bed and a chest. The bed was so placed that from it one could see over the whole kitchen and superintend the work. From the kitchen, on the other hand, hardly anything could be seen in the annex. There it was quite dark. Only the faint gleam of the upper bed-coverlet could be distinguished. Not until one's eyes become used to the darkness did one detach particular objects.