The Trial by Franz Kafka (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📕

industrious.” This was an elderly businessman, a man whose beard was long, and he was begging a young girl to speak on his behalf. Even if there was some plan behind what he did, there was nothing that could reinstate him in the eyes of his fellow man. K.

could not understand how the lawyer could have thought this performance would win him over. Even if he had done nothing earlier to make him want to leave then this scene would have done so. It was almost humiliating even for the onlooker. So these were the lawyer’s methods, which K. fortunately had not been exposed to for long, to let the client forget about the whole world and leave him with nothing but the hope of reaching the end of his trial by this deluded means. He was no longer a client, he was the lawyer’s dog. If the lawyer had ordered him to crawl under the bed as if it were a kennel and to bark out from under it, then he would have done so with enthusiasm. K. listened to all of this, testing it and thinking it over as if he had been given the task of closely observing everything spoken here, inform a higher office about it and write a report. “And what has he been doing all day?” asked the lawyer. “I kept him locked in the maid’s room all day,” said Leni, “so that he wouldn’t stop me doing my work. That’s where he usually stays.

From time to time I looked in through the spyhole to see was he was doing, and each time he was kneeling on the bed and reading the papers you gave him, propped up on the window sill. That made a good impression on me; as the window only opens onto an air shaft and gives hardly any light. It showed how obedient he is that he was even reading in those conditions.” “I’m pleased to hear it,” said the lawyer. “But did he understand what he was reading?” While this conversation was going on, Block continually moved his lips and was clearly formulating the answers he hoped Leni would give. “Well I can’t give you any certain answer to that of course,” said Leni, “but I could see that he was reading thoroughly. He spent all day reading the same page, running his finger along the lines. Whenever I looked in on him he sighed as if this reading was a lot of work for him. I expect the papers you gave him were very hard to understand.” “Yes,” said the lawyer, “they certainly are that. And I really don’t think he understood anything of them. But they should at least give him some inkling of just how hard a struggle it is and how much work it is for me to defend him. And who am I doing all this hard work for? I’m doing it - it’s laughable even to say it - I’m doing it for Block. He ought to realise what that means, too. Did he study without a pause?” “Almost without a pause,” answered Leni. “Just the once he asked me for a drink of water, so I gave him a glassful through the window. Then at eight o’clock I let him out and gave him something to eat.” Block glanced sideways at K., as if he were being praised and had to impress K. as well. He now seemed more optimistic, he moved more freely and rocked back and forth on his knees.

This made his astonishment all the more obvious when he heard the following words from the lawyer: “You speak well of him,” said the lawyer, “but that’s just what makes it difficult for me. You see, the judge did not speak well of him at all, neither about Block nor about his case.” “Didn’t speak well of him?” asked Leni. “How is that possible?” Block looked at her with such tension he seemed to think that although the judge’s words had been spoken so long before she would be able to change them in his favour. “Not at all,” said the lawyer.

“In fact he became quite cross when I started to talk about Block to him. ‘Don’t talk to me about Block,’ he said. ‘He is my client,’ said I. ‘You’re letting him abuse you,’ he said. ‘I don’t think his case is lost yet,’ said I. ‘You’re letting him abuse you,’ he repeated. ‘I don’t think so,’ said I. ‘Block works hard in his case and always knows where it stands. He practically lives with me so that he always knows what’s happening. You don’t always find such enthusiasm as that. He’s not very pleasant personally, I grant you, his manners are terrible and he’s dirty, but as far as the trial’s concerned he’s quite immaculate.’

I said immaculate, but I was deliberately exaggerating. Then he said, ‘Block is sly, that’s all. He’s accumulated plenty of experience and knows how to delay proceedings. But there’s more that he doesn’t know than he does. What do you think he’d say if he learned his trial still hasn’t begun, if you told him they haven’t even rung the bell to announce the start of proceedings?’ Alright Block, alright,” said the lawyer, as at these words Block had begun to raise himself on his trembling knees and clearly wanted to plead for some explanation. It was the first time the lawyer had spoken any clear words directly to Block. He looked down with his tired eyes, half blankly and half at Block, who slowly sank back down on his knees under this gaze. “What the judge said has no meaning for you,” said the lawyer. “You needn’t be frightened at every word. If you do it again I won’t tell you anything else at all. It’s impossible to start a sentence without you looking at me as if you were receiving your final judgement. You should be ashamed of yourself here in front of my client! And you’re destroying the trust he has for me. Just what is it you want? You’re still alive, you’re still under my protection. There’s no point in worrying! Somewhere you’ve read that the final judgement can often come without warning, from anyone at any time. And, in the right circumstances, that’s basically true, but it’s also true that I dislike your anxiety and fear and see that you don’t have the trust in me you should have. Now what have I just said? I repeated something said by one of the judges. You know that there are so many various opinions about the procedure that they form into a great big pile and nobody can make any sense of them. This judge, for instance, sees proceedings as starting at a different point from where I do. A difference of opinion, nothing more. At a certain stage in the proceedings tradition has it that a sign is given by ringing a bell. This judge sees that as the point at which proceedings begin. I can’t set out all the opinions opposed to that view here, and you wouldn’t understand it anyway, suffice it to say that there are many reasons to disagree with him.”

Embarrassed, Block ran his fingers through the pile of the carpet, his anxiety about what the judge had said had let him forget his inferior status towards the lawyer for a while, he thought only about himself and turned the judges words round to examine them from all sides. “Block,”

said Leni, as if reprimanding him, and, taking hold of the collar of his coat, pulled him up slightly higher. “Leave the carpet alone and listen to what the lawyer is saying.”

 

This chapter was left unfinished.