The Trial (Penguin ed.) Read online

  K. stared at the supervisor. Was he to get schoolboy maxims here from a person perhaps younger than himself? Was his openness to be punished with a reprimand? And was he to learn nothing about the reason for his arrest and who had ordered it? Thrown into a state of some agitation, he walked up and down without hindrance from the others, pushed his cuffs back, touched his chest, smoothed his hair down, went past the three gentlemen and said: ‘But it’s senseless,’ whereupon these three turned towards him and looked at him in a sympathetic but earnest way, and finally he came to a stop by the supervisor’s table again. ‘Hasterer from the prosecutor’s office is a good friend of mine,’ he said. ‘Can I phone him?’ ‘Of course,’ said the supervisor, ‘but I don’t know what sense there’s supposed to be in that, unless you have some private matter to discuss with him.’ ‘What sense?’ cried K., more shaken than annoyed. ‘But who are you? You ask for sense and you are putting on the most senseless exhibition yourself. Isn’t it enough to melt a stone? First these gentlemen pounced on me and now they’re sitting or standing around here expecting me to do tricks for you like a performing horse. What sense there might be in telephoning a lawyer when I’m supposed to be under arrest? All right, I won’t telephone.’ ‘But do,’ said the supervisor and he pointed to the hall, where the telephone was, ‘but please do telephone.’ ‘No, I don’t want to now,’ said K. and went to the window. Across the way the group was still at the window and only now, because K. had come to the window, did their quiet contemplation seem a little disturbed. The old people tried to stand, but the man behind reassured them. ‘There are more spectators over there,’ shouted K. quite loudly to the supervisor and he pointed across with his finger. ‘Away from there,’ he then shouted at them. The three immediately fell back a few steps, the two old people even retreated behind the man, who shielded them with his broad body and, to judge by the movements of his mouth, was saying something which was incomprehensible at that distance. But they did not disappear completely, they seemed to be waiting for the moment when they could come to the window again without being observed. ‘Impertinent, thoughtless people!’ said K. as he turned back to the room. It was possible the supervisor agreed with him, or so K. thought when he gave him a sideways glance. But it was just as possible he had not even been listening, for he had pressed one hand firmly on the table and seemed to be comparing the lengths of his fingers. The two warders sat on a chest covered with an embroidered cloth and were rubbing their knees. The three young people had their hands on their hips and were looking around aimlessly. It was as quiet as in some abandoned office. ‘Now, gentlemen,’ cried K., who felt for a moment as if he were carrying them all on his shoulders, ‘to judge from your expressions, this affair of mine must be at an end. In my opinion the best thing is not to brood any more about whether what you’ve done is justified or not justified but to bring the matter to a peaceful conclusion with a mutual handshake. If you share my opinion, then please …’ and he stepped up to the supervisor’s table and offered him his hand. The supervisor raised his eyes, chewed his lips, and looked at K.’s outstretched hand. K. still believed the supervisor would shake hands in agreement. But the latter stood up, took a hard round hat which lay on Fräulein Bürstner’s bed and placed it carefully on his head with both hands, just as one does when trying on new hats. ‘How simple everything seems to you,’ he said to K. as he was doing this. ‘We should bring the matter to a peaceful conclusion, is that your opinion? No, no, that really won’t do. By which, on the other hand, I definitely don’t mean to say you should despair. No, why should you? You’re only under arrest, that’s all. That’s what I had to communicate to you, I’ve done that, and I’ve also seen how you’ve taken it. That’s enough for today and we can take leave of each other; only for the time being of course. I suppose you’ll want to go to the bank now?’ ‘To the bank?’ asked K. ‘I thought I was under arrest.’ K. put this question with a certain defiance, for although his handshake had not been accepted he felt, especially since the supervisor had stood up, more and more detached from all these people. He was playing with them. What he had in mind, if they were to go away, was to run after them as far as the gate and offer to be arrested. So he said again: ‘How can I go to the bank? I’m under arrest.’ ‘Ah yes,’ said the supervisor, who was already by the door. ‘You’ve misunderstood me. It’s true you’re under arrest, but that doesn’t mean you can’t follow your occupation. And you won’t be hampered in your normal way of life.’ ‘Being arrested is not so bad,’ said K., and he went up close to the supervisor. ‘I never said it was,’ said the latter. ‘But then it seems it was not even very necessary to tell me about my arrest,’ said K., who now went even closer. The others too had come nearer. All were now assembled in a confined space by the door. ‘It was my duty,’ said the supervisor. ‘A stupid duty,’ said K. unrelentingly. ‘Maybe,’ said the supervisor, ‘but we don’t want to waste our time talking like this. I had assumed you’d want to go to the bank. As you pay such close attention to every word I say, I will now add: I’m not forcing you to go to the bank, I had merely assumed you would want to go. And to make that easier for you and to make your arrival at the bank as unobtrusive as possible, I have retained these three gentlemen here, your colleagues, to be at your disposal.’ ‘What?’ cried K. and looked at the three in amazement. These utterly insipid and colourless young men, whom he had noted mentally as merely a group by the photographs, were indeed officials from his bank; not colleagues, that was pitching it too high and revealed a gap in the supervisor’s omniscience, but they really were subordinate officials from the bank. How could K. have overlooked this fact? He must have been absolutely absorbed in the supervisor and the warders not to recognize these three. The erect Rabensteiner with restless hands, fair-haired Kullych with his deep-set eyes, and Kaminer with the insufferable smile caused by chronic muscular spasm. ‘Good morning,’ said K. after a pause and held out his hand to the gentlemen, who were bowing politely. ‘I didn’t recognize you at all. So now we’ll go off to work, eh?’ The three nodded with an eager laugh as if they had been waiting for this all the time, but when K. missed his hat, which had been left in his room, they all rushed out together to fetch it, and this revealed a certain embarrassment after all. K. stood where he was and watched them through the two open doors; the last of course was the apathetic Rabensteiner who had merely broken into an elegant trot. Kaminer gave him his hat, and K. had to make a point of telling himself, as he often had to in the bank, that Kaminer’s smile was not intentional, indeed that he was quite incapable of smiling intentionally. In the hall the front door was then opened for the whole company by Frau Grubach, who did not give the impression of feeling very guilty, and K. looked down, as he often did, at the apron-string which made such a needlessly deep cut in her massive body. When they were outside, K. took his watch in his hand and resolved to call a cab so that there would be no unnecessary prolongation of the delay, which had already lasted half an hour. Kaminer ran to the corner to find a cab and the two others were evidently trying to take K.’s mind off things, when Kullych suddenly pointed to the house-door opposite, where the man with the pale goatee had just appeared; at first a little embarrassed at being seen at his full height, he then retreated to the wall and leaned on it. The old people were probably still on the stairs. K. was annoyed with Kullych for drawing attention to the man, whom he had already seen earlier and had in fact expected. ‘Don’t look over there,’ he blurted, without thinking how extraordinary such a remark was when addressed to grown men. But no explanation was necessary, for the cab arrived just then and they took their seats and drove off. Then K. realized he had not noticed the departure of the supervisor and warders; the supervisor had hidden the three officials from him, and now the officials had done the same for the supervisor. This did not suggest he was very alert, and K. resolved to pay closer attention to such things. Yet he still turned involuntarily and leaned over the back of the cab to see if he could catch a glimpse of the supervisor a
nd the warders. But he turned back again at once, without making any effort to look for anyone, and settled himself comfortably in the corner. In spite of appearances, he would have been glad of some words of encouragement at this time, but the gentlemen now seemed tired. Rabensteiner was looking out of the cab on the right, Kullych on the left, and only Kaminer was available with his grin, and common humanity forbade any joke about that.

  That spring K. usually spent the evenings going for a short walk after work, either alone or with acquaintances, if this was still possible – he was in his office most days until nine o’clock – and then going to a beer hall where he was in the habit of sitting until eleven o’clock, mostly in the company of elderly gentlemen, at a table reserved for regulars. There were, however, exceptions to this arrangement, for example when the manager of the bank (who valued his capacity for work and trustworthiness very highly) invited him to go for a trip in his car or to dine at his villa. And once a week K. went to a girl called Elsa who worked all night until late morning in a wine tavern and during the day received her visitors only in bed.

  But this evening – the day had passed quickly, what with intense work and many complimentary and friendly birthday greetings – K. decided to go straight home. He had thought about doing this during all the brief pauses in the day’s work; without knowing exactly what he had in mind, it seemed to him as if, because of that morning’s events, considerable disorder had been occasioned in Frau Grubach’s whole house and his presence was necessary to restore order. But once this order was restored, then every trace of those events would be eliminated and everything would resume its old course. He noted specially that nothing was to be feared from the three officials; they had sunk back into the huge bureaucracy of the bank and no change could be seen in them. K. had called them into his office several times, individually and all three together, for no other purpose than to observe them; each time he had been able to dismiss them with satisfaction.

  When he reached the house where he lived at half-past nine that evening he met in the doorway a young lad who was standing there with his legs wide apart, smoking a pipe. ‘Who are you?’ K. asked at once, bringing his face close to the lad’s; it was not possible to see much in the gloom of the hall. ‘I’m the caretaker’s son, sir,’ said the lad in reply, taking the pipe from his mouth and stepping to one side. ‘The caretaker’s son?’ asked K., and he tapped on the floor impatiently with his stick. ‘Do you want anything, sir? Shall I fetch my father?’ ‘No, no,’ said K. with a note of forgiveness in his voice as if the lad had done something wrong but he forgave him. ‘It’s all right,’ he then said, and he walked on, but before going up the stairs he turned round once again.

  He could have gone straight to his room, but as he wanted to speak to Frau Grubach he knocked at her door without delay. She was holding an uncompleted stocking still on the needles and was sitting by a table on which there was a heap of old stockings. K. apologized in some confusion for coming so late, but Frau Grubach was most affable and would not hear of any apology: for him she was always available, he knew very well he was her best and most valued lodger. K. looked round the room; it had been restored exactly to its old condition, with the breakfast things which had been on the little table by the window that morning also cleared away. Women’s hands do get a lot done without fuss, he thought; he would perhaps have smashed all the dishes on the spot, he certainly would not have been able to carry them out of the room. He looked at Frau Grubach with a certain gratitude. ‘Why are you working so late?’ he asked. Both were now seated at the table, and from time to time K. buried a hand in the stockings. ‘There’s a lot of work,’ she said. ‘During the day my time belongs to my lodgers. When I want to see to my own things, only the evenings are left to me.’ ‘I’m afraid I’ve caused you a lot of extra work today.’ ‘How is that?’ she asked, becoming more attentive and letting her work rest in her lap. ‘I mean the men who were here this morning.’ ‘Oh, that,’ she said and reverted to her normal calm. ‘That didn’t give me any special work.’ K. watched in silence as she took up the unfinished stocking again. ‘She seems surprised that I mention it,’ he thought. ‘She seems to think it’s not right for me to mention it. So it’s all the more important that I do so. It’s only to an old woman that I can mention it.’ ‘But surely it must have given you work,’ he then said, ‘but it won’t happen again.’ ‘No, that can’t happen again,’ she said in agreement and smiled almost wistfully at K. ‘Do you really mean that?’ asked K. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly, ‘but above all you mustn’t take it too much to heart. What things happen in this world! As you are speaking so openly to me, Herr K., I can confess to you I listened a bit behind the door and the two warders told me something too. It’s a matter that concerns your happiness, and that’s really close to my heart, perhaps closer than it should be, because I am after all only your landlady. Well, so I heard a little, but I can’t say it was anything particularly bad. No. You are indeed under arrest, but not like a thief is under arrest. When a man is arrested like a thief, then it’s bad, but this arrest – it seems to me like something scholarly, forgive me if I’m saying something stupid, it seems to me like something scholarly which I don’t understand, but which one doesn’t have to understand either.’

  ‘What you have said, Frau Grubach, is not stupid at all, at least I too share your opinion to some extent, but I judge the whole thing more strictly than you and I consider it to be not even scholarly but nothing at all. I was taken by surprise, that’s all. If I had got up as soon as I woke, without letting myself be put off by Anna’s absence, and had come to you without taking notice of anyone who might have got in my way, if for instance I had just for once had my breakfast in the kitchen, had got you to bring me my clothes from my room, in short, if I had acted in a sensible way, nothing further would have happened, everything would have been nipped in the bud. But one is so little prepared. In the bank for instance I am prepared for anything, it’s impossible that anything like that could happen to me there; there I have my own assistant, the outside phone and the internal phone are on my desk and people, clients, officials are always coming and going; but also and of particular importance, when I’m there I’m always involved in work and therefore mentally alert; it would actually give me pleasure to be confronted with such a matter there. Now it’s past and in fact I wasn’t intending to speak of it, but I wanted to hear your judgement, the judgement of a sensible woman, and I’m very pleased that we are in agreement. Now you must give me your hand, an agreement like this must be sealed with a handshake.’

  Will she give me her hand? The supervisor did not give me his hand, he thought; and he looked at the woman with a different, searching look. She stood up because he too was on his feet, she was a little diffident because not everything K. said had been comprehensible to her. But because of this diffidence she said something she did not intend and which was very much out of place: ‘Don’t take it so much to heart, Herr K.,’ she said in a tearful voice and forgot of course about the handshake. ‘I didn’t know I was taking it to heart,’ he said, suddenly feeling tired and realizing the worthlessness of this woman’s approval.

  At the door he asked: ‘Is Fräulein Bürstner at home?’ ‘No,’ said Frau Grubach, and as she gave this bare information she smiled with belated and sensible sympathy. ‘She is at the theatre. Do you want something of her? Should I give her a message?’ ‘Oh, I only wanted to have a few words with her.’ ‘I’m afraid I don’t know when she’ll be back; when she’s at the theatre she usually comes home late.’ ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said K. and was already turning his drooping head towards the door on the way out. ‘I only wanted to ask her to forgive me for having made use of her room today.’ ‘That’s not necessary, Herr K.; you are too considerate; the young lady of course knows nothing about it, she hasn’t been home since early morning, everything has been put straight, see for yourself.’ And she opened the door of Fräulein Bürstner’s room. ‘Thank you, I believe you,’ said K.,
but all the same he went to the open door. The moonlight shone softly into the dark room. As far as one could see, everything was really in its place, even the blouse was no longer hanging from the window latch. The pillows on the bed seemed unusually high; they lay partly in moonlight. ‘The young lady often comes home late,’ said K., and he looked at Frau Grubach as if she were responsible for that. ‘Just like all young people!’ said Frau Grubach apologetically. ‘Of course, of course,’ said K., ‘but it can go too far.’ ‘It can,’ said Frau Grubach. ‘How right you are, Herr K. Perhaps even in this case. I certainly don’t want to say anything against Fräulein Bürstner. She is a good, dear girl, friendly, tidy, meticulous, hard-working. I value all that very much, but one thing is true: she should have more pride, be more reserved. This month I’ve already seen her twice in streets some way off, and each time with a different gentleman. I feel bad about it, I swear by God above I’ve told nobody else but you about it, Herr K., but nothing will stop me speaking to the young lady herself about it. In any case, it’s not the only thing that makes me suspect her.’ ‘You are quite on the wrong track,’ said K., in a rage and almost unable to hide it. ‘Besides, you’ve obviously misunderstood what I said about the young lady. I didn’t mean it like that. In fact, I warn you explicitly not to say anything to the young lady. You are completely mistaken, I know the young lady very well and nothing of what you say is true. But perhaps I am going too far; I won’t stop you telling her what you like. Good night.’ ‘Herr K.,’ said Frau Grubach imploringly, and she hurried after him as far as his door, which he had already opened, ‘I don’t want to talk to the young lady now, first I’ll keep my eye on her a bit longer of course; you are the only one I’ve told about what I know. In the end it must be in every lodger’s interest if I try to keep the boarding-house respectable, and that’s all I’m trying to do.’ ‘Respectable!’ shouted K. through the partly open door. ‘If you want to keep the boarding-house respectable you’d better give me notice first.’ Then he slammed the door and ignored a faint knocking.