The Castle

"Kafka discovered the hitherto unknown possibilities of the novel, and it is thanks to him that the very notion of the novel is not the same as it was before." Milan Kundera

"He is the greatest German writer of our time. Such poets as Rilke or such novelists as Thomas Mann are dwarfs or plaster saints in comparison with him." Vladimir Nabokov VINTAGE CLASSICS

A study of relationships, particularly between the individual and society and between thought and action, The Castle is one of Kafka's most profoundly imaginative works. As fear and worry develop in a series of strangely illogical events and man's quest for freedom heightens, this classic novel confirms Kafka's reputation as one of the greatest creators of visionary fiction this century.

ALSO BY FRANZ KAFKA
Fiction

Metamorphosis and Other Stories

Complete Short Stories

America

The Trial

Non-fiction

The Diaries of Franz Kafka

Letters to Felice

Letters to Milena

Franz Kafka THE CASTLE

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY Willa and Edwin Muir

WITH ADDITIONAL MATERIAL TRANSLATED BY Eithne Wilkins and Ernst Kaiser

NOTE

"KAFKA'S name, so far as I can discover, is almost unknown to English readers. As he is considered by several of the best German critics to have been perhaps the most interesting writer of his generation, and at he is in some ways a strange and disconcerting genius, it has been suggested that a short introductory note should be provided for this book, the first of his to be translated into English." - This is the first paragraph of Edwin Muir's Introduction published in 1930 with the first English edition of The Castle (in his and Willa Muir's translation) and reprinted in all later editions. Hardly ever has the work of translators been so amply rewarded - and indeed on so large a scale of literary fame for the translated work that the quoted paragraph now reads like a historical curiosity.

In the time between the first publication of The Castle and the definitive edition, Franz Kafka, although still a "strange and disconcerting genius", had risen to the stature of a classic of modern literature. Merely to list the critical literature his work has evoked would probably mean compiling a book. In this situation, which in itself is the greatest tribute to the work of Franz Kafka's devoted friend and editor, Max Brod, and to his first English translators, the reader no longer requires the help offered to him by the Introduction and Editor's Note of the previous editions - the less so as, quite apart from much other literature on the subject, Max Brod's biography of Franz Kafka has in the meantime become available in English translation.

However, as The Castle remains unfinished, the following paragraph from the Editor's Note to the first edition should be preserved : 'Kafka never wrote the concluding chapter. But he told me about it once when I asked him how the novel was to end. The ostensible Land Surveyor was to find partial satisfaction at least. He was not to relax in his struggle, but was to die worn out by it. Round his death-bed the villagers were to assemble, and from the Castle itself the word was to come that though K.'s legal claim to live in the village was not valid, yet, taking certain auxiliary circumstances into account, he was to be permitted to live and work there.' It is also not unimportant to know 'that The Castle seems to have been begun as a story in the first person, the earlier chapters being altered by the author, "K." being inserted everywhere in the place of "I", and the later chapters written straight out in the third person. In his postscript to the third German edition Max Brod gratefully acknowledges the editorial assistance of Heinz Pollitzer.

The present English edition is based on the definitive German edition of Das Schloss, S. Fischer Verlag, Frankfurt am Main, 1951* Lizenzausgabe von Schocken Books, New York.

Thus it is considerably larger than the previous editions which followed the text of the first German publication of the novel. The additions - result of Max Brod's later editing of Franz Kafka's posthumous writings - are the concluding section of chapter 18 and the whole of chapters 19 and 20. As the original translators of the novel were unable to undertake the translation of the new material, Eidine Wilkins and Ernst Kaiser kindly agreed to complete the work begun by Willa and Edwin Muir. The translators of the additional material have chosen "Mayor" rather than "Superintendent" as a translation of the German Gemeindevorsteher. The difficulty is that there is no precise English equivalent of the tide of the elected head of a village community. "Clients" has been replaced throughout by "applicants". The Latin "diens" meant "one who is at the call of his patron", and "client" came to mean someone under the protection or patronage of another and, more specifically, one who employs the services of a legal adviser or advocate. The translators considered that "applicant" has a more authentic ring, since there is no question of any payment being made to the officials of the Castle.

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IT was late in the evening when K. arrived, The village was J. deep in snow. The Castle hill was hidden, veiled in mist and darkness, nor was there even a glimmer of light to show that a castle was there. On the wooden bridge leading from the main road to the village K. stood for a long time gazing into the illusory emptiness above him. Then he went on to find quarters for the night. The inn was still awake, and although the landlord could not provide a room and was upset by such a late and unexpected arrival, he was willing to let K. sleep on a bag of straw in the parlour. K. accepted the offer. Some peasants were still sitting over their beer, but he did not want to talk, and after himself fetching the bag of straw from the attic, lay down beside the stove. It was a warm corner, the peasants were quiet, and letting his weary eyes stray over them he soon fell asleep. But very shortly he was awakened. A young man dressed like a townsman, with the face of an actor, his eyes narrow and his eyebrows strongly marked, was standing beside him along with the landlord. The peasants were still in the room, and a few had turned their chairs round so as to see and hear better. The young man apologized very courteously for having awakened K., introducing himself as the son of the Castellan, and then said:

"This village belongs to the Castle, and whoever lives here or passes the night here does so in a manner of speaking in the Castle itself. Nobody may do that without the Count's permission. But you have no such permit, or at least you have produced none."

K. had half raised himself and now, smoothing down his hair and looking up at the two men, he said:

"What village is this I have wandered into? Is there a castle here?"

"Most certainly," replied the young man slowly, while here and there a head was shaken over K.'s remark, "the castle of my lord the Count West-west."

"And must one have a permit to sleep here?" asked K., as if he wished to assure himself that what he had heard was not a dream.

"One must have a permit," was the reply, and there was an ironical contempt for K. in the young man's gesture as he stretched out his arm and appealed to the others, "Or must one not have a permit?"

"Well, then, I'll have to go and get one," said K. yawning and pushing his blanket away as if to rise up.

"And from whom, pray?" asked the young man.

"From the Count," said K., "that's the only thing to be done."

"A permit from the Count in the middle of the night!" cried the young man, stepping back a pace.

"Is that impossible?" inquired K. coolly. "Then why did you waken me?"

At this the young man flew into a passion.

"None of your guttersnipe manners!" he cried, "I insist on respect for the Count's authority I I woke you up to inform you that you must quit the Count's territory at once."

"Enough of this fooling," said K. in a markedly quiet voice, laying himself down again and pulling up the blanket.

"You're going a little too far, my good fellow, and I'll have something to say tomorrow about your conduct. The landlord here and those other gentlemen will bear me out if necessary. Let me tell you that I am the Land Surveyor whom the Count is expecting. My assistants are coming on tomorrow in a carriage with the apparatus. I did not want to miss the chance of a walk through the snow, but unfortunately lost my way several times and so arrived very late. That it was too late to present myself at the Castle I knew very well before you saw fit to inform me. That is why I have made shift with this bed for the night, where, to put it mildly, you have had the discourtesy to disturb me. That is all I have to say. Good night, gentlemen."

And K. turned over on his side towards the stove.

"Land Surveyor?" he heard the hesitating question behind his back, and then there was a general silence. But the young man soon recovered his assurance, and lowering his voice, sufficiently to appear considerate of K.'s sleep while yet speaking loud enough to be clearly heard, said to the landlord:

"I'll ring up and inquire."

So there was a telephone in this village inn? They had everything up to the mark. The particular instance surprised K., but on the whole he had really expected it. It appeared that the telephone was placed almost over his head and in his drowsy condition he had overlooked it. If the young man must needs telephone he could not, even with the best intentions, avoid disturbing K., the only question was whether K. would let him do so; he decided to allow it. In that case, however, there was no sense in pretending to sleep, and so he turned on his back again. He could see the peasants putting their heads together, the arrival of a Land Surveyor was no small event.

The door into the kitchen had been opened, and blocking the whole doorway stood the imposing figure of the landlady, to whom the landlord was advancing on tiptoe in order to tell her what was happening. And now the conversation began on the telephone. The Castellan was asleep, but an under-castellan, one of the under-castellans, a certain Herr Fritz, was available. The young man, announcing himself as Schwarzer, reported that he had found K., a disreputable-looking man in the thirties, sleeping calmly on a bag of straw with a minute rucksack for pillow and a knotty stick within reach. He had naturally suspected the fellow, and as the landlord had obviously neglected his duty he, Schwarzer, had felt bound to investigate the matter. He had roused the man, questioned him, and duly warned him off the Count's territory, all of which K. had taken with an ill grace, perhaps with some justification, as it eventually turned out, for he claimed to be a Land Surveyor engaged by the Count. Of course, to say the least of it, that was a statement which required official confirmation, and so Schwarzer begged Herr Fritz to inquire in the Central Bureau if a Land Surveyor were really expected, and to telephone the answer at once. Then there was silence while Fritz was making inquiries up there and the young man was waiting for the answer.

K. did not change his position, did not even once turn round, seemed quite indifferent and stared into space. Schwarzer's report, in its combination of malice and prudence, gave him an idea of the measure of diplomacy in which even underlings in the Castle like Schwarzer were versed. Nor were they remiss in industry, the Central Office had a night service. And apparently answered questions quickly, too, for Fritz was already ringing.

His reply seemed brief enough, for Schwarzer hung up the receiver immediately, crying angrily:

"Just what I said! Not a trace of a Land Surveyor. A common, lying tramp, and probably worse."

For a moment K. thought that all of them, Schwarzer, the peasants, the landlord and the landlady, were going to fall upon him in a body, and to escape at least the first shock of their assault he crawled right underneath the blanket. But the telephone rang again, and with a special insistence, it seemed to K. Slowly he put out his head.

Although it was improbable that this message also concerned K., they all stopped short and Schwarzer took up the receiver once more. He listened to a fairly long statement, and then said in a low voice:

"A mistake, is it? I'm sorry to hear that. The head of the department himself said so?

Very queer, very queer. How am I to explain it all to the Land Surveyor?"

K. pricked up his ears. So the Castle had recognized him as the Land Surveyor. That was unpropitious for him, on the one hand, for it meant that the Castle was well informed about him, had estimated all the probable chances, and was taking up the challenge with a smile. On the other hand, however, it was quite propitious, for if his interpretation were right they had underestimated his strength, and he would have more freedom of action than he had dared to hope. And if they expected to cow him by their lofty superiority in recognizing him as Land Surveyor, they were mistaken; it made his skin prickle a little, that was all. He waved off Schwarzer who was timidly approaching him, and refused an urgent invitation to transfer himself into the landlord's own room; he only accepted a warm drink from the landlord and from the landlady a basin to wash in, a piece of soap, and a towel. He did not even have to ask that the room should be cleared, for all the men flocked out with averted faces lest he should recognize them again next day. The lamp was blown out, and he was left in peace at last. He slept deeply until morning, scarcely disturbed by rats scuttling past once or twice. After breakfast, which, according to his host, was to be paid for by the Castle, together with all the other expenses of his board and lodging, he prepared to go out immediately into the village. But since the landlord, to whom he had been very curt because of his behaviour the preceding night, kept circling around him in dumb entreaty, he took pity on the man and asked him to sit down for a while. "I haven't met the Count yet," said K.,