been capable of working himself up to his high position in the bank in
a relatively short time and to retain it with respect from everyone,
now he simply had to apply some of the talents that had made that
possible for him to the trial, and there was no doubt that it had to
turn out well. The most important thing, if something was to be
achieved, was to reject in advance any idea that he might be in any way
guilty. There was no guilt. The trial was nothing but a big piece of
business, just like he had already concluded to the benefit of the bank
many times, a piece of business that concealed many lurking dangers
waiting in ambush for him, as they usually did, and these dangers would
need to be defended against. If that was to be achieved then he must not
entertain any idea of guilt, whatever he did, he would need to look
after his own interests as closely as he could. Seen in this way, there
was no choice but to take his representation away from the lawyer very
soon, at best that very evening. The lawyer had told him, as he talked
to him, that that was something unheard of and would probably do him a
great deal of harm, but K. could not tolerate any impediment to his
efforts where his trial was concerned, and these impediments were
probably caused by the lawyer himself. But once he had shaken off the
lawyer the documents would need to be submitted straight away and, if
possible, he would need to see to it that they were being dealt with
every day. It would of course not be enough, if that was to be done, for
K. to sit in the corridor with his hat under the bench like the others.
Day after day, he himself, or one of the women or somebody else on his
behalf, would have to run after the officials and force them to sit at
their desks and study K.'s documents instead of looking out on the
corridor through the grating. There could be no let-up in these efforts,
everything would need to be organised and supervised, it was about time
that the court came up against a defendant who knew how to defend and
make use of his rights.
But when K. had the confidence to try and do all this the difficulty of
composing the documents was too much for him. Earlier, just a week or
so before, he could only have felt shame at the thought of being made
to write out such documents himself; it had never entered his head that
the task could also be difficult. He remembered one morning when,
already piled up with work, he suddenly shoved everything to one side
and took a pad of paper on which he sketched out some of his thoughts on
how documents of this sort should proceed. Perhaps he would offer them
to that slow-witted lawyer, but just then the door of the manager's
office opened and the deputy director entered the room with a loud
laugh. K. was very embarrassed, although the deputy director, of
course, was not laughing at K.'s documents, which he knew nothing about,
but at a joke he had just heard about the stock-exchange, a joke which
needed an illustration if it was to be understood, and now the
deputy director leant over K.'s desk, took his pencil from his hand,
and drew the illustration on the writing pad that K. had intended for
his ideas about his case.
K. now had no more thoughts of shame, the documents had to be prepared
and submitted. If, as was very likely, he could find no time to do it
in the office he would have to do it at home at night. If the nights
weren't enough he would have to take a holiday. Above all, he could not
stop half way, that was nonsense not only in business but always and
everywhere. Needless to say, the documents would mean an almost endless
amount of work. It was easy to come to the belief, not only for those
of an anxious disposition, that it was impossible ever to finish it.
This was not because of laziness or deceit, which were the only things
that might have hindered the lawyer in preparing it, but because he did
not know what the charge was or even what consequences it might bring,
so that he had to remember every tiny action and event from the whole
of his life, looking at them from all sides and checking and
reconsidering them. It was also a very disheartening job. It would have
been more suitable as a way of passing the long days after he had
retired and become senile. But now, just when K. needed to apply all his
thoughts to his work, when he was still rising and already posed a
threat to the deputy director, when every hour passed so quickly and he
wanted to enjoy the brief evenings and nights as a young man, this was
the time he had to start working out these documents. Once more, he
began to feel resentment. Almost involuntarily, only to put an end to
it, his finger felt for the button of the electric bell in the
ante-room. As he pressed it he glanced up to the clock. It was eleven
o'clock, two hours, he had spent a great deal of his costly time just
dreaming and his wits were, of course, even more dulled than they had
been before. But the time had, nonetheless, not been wasted, he had come
to some decisions that could be of value. As well as various pieces of
mail, the servitors brought two visiting cards from gentlemen who had
already been waiting for K. for some time. They were actually very
important clients of the bank who should not really have been kept
waiting under any circumstances. Why had they come at such an awkward
time, and why, the gentlemen on the other side of the closed door seemed
to be asking, was the industrious K. using up the best business time for
his private affairs? Tired from what had gone before, and tired in
anticipation of what was to follow, K. stood up to receive the first of
them.
He was a short, jolly man, a manufacturer who K. knew well. He
apologised for disturbing K. at some important work, and K., for his
part, apologised for having kept the manufacturer waiting for so long.
But even this apology was spoken in such a mechanical way and with such
false intonation that the manufacturer would certainly have noticed if
he had not been fully preoccupied with his business affairs. Instead,
he hurriedly pulled calculations and tables out from all his pockets,
spread them out in front of K., explained several items, corrected a
little mistake in the arithmetic that he noticed as he quickly glanced
over it all, and reminded K. of a similar piece of business he'd
concluded with him about a year before, mentioning in passing that this
time there was another bank spending great effort to get his business,
and finally stopped speaking in order to learn K.'s opinion on the
matter. And K. had indeed, at first, been closely following what the
manufacturer was saying, he too was aware of how important the deal
was, but unfortunately it did not last, he soon stopped listening,
nodded at each of the manufacturer's louder exclamations for a short
while, but eventually he stopped doing even that and did no more than
stare at the bald head bent over the papers, asking himself when the
manufacturer would finally realise that everything he was saying was
useless. When he did stop talking, K. really thought at first that this
was so that he would have the chance to confess that he was incapable of
listening. Instead, seeing the anticipation on the manufacturer's face,
obviously ready to counter any objections made, he was sorry to realise
that the business discussion had to be continued. So he bent his head as
if he'd been given an order and began slowly to move his pencil over the
papers, now and then he would stop and stare at one of the figures. The
manufacturer thought there must be some objection, perhaps his figures
weren't really sound, perhaps they weren't the decisive issue, whatever
he thought, the manufacturer covered the papers with his hand and began
once again, moving very close to K., to explain what the deal was all
about. "It is difficult," said K., pursing his lips. The only thing
that could offer him any guidance were the papers, and the manufacturer
had covered them from his view, so he just sank back against the arm of
the chair. Even when the door of the manager's office opened and
revealed not very clearly, as if through a veil, the deputy director, he
did no more than look up weakly. K. thought no more about the matter, he
merely watched the immediate effect of the deputy director's appearance
and, for him, the effect was very pleasing; the manufacturer
immediately jumped up from his seat and hurried over to meet the deputy
director, although K. would have liked to make him ten times livelier as
he feared the deputy director might disappear again. He need not have
worried, the two gentlemen met each other, shook each other's hand and
went together over to K.'s desk. The manufacturer said he was sorry to
find the chief clerk so little inclined to do business, pointing to K.
who, under the view of the deputy director, had bent back down over the
papers. As the two men leant over the desk and the manufacturer made
some effort to gain and keep the deputy director's attention, K. felt as
if they were much bigger than they really were and that their
negotiations were about him. Carefully and slowly turning his eyes
upwards, he tried to learn what was taking place above him, took one of
the papers from his desk without looking to see what it was, lay it on
the flat of his hand and raised it slowly up as he rose up to the level
of the two men himself. He had no particular plan in mind as he did
this, but merely felt this was how he would act if only he had finished
preparing that great document that was to remove his burden entirely.
The deputy director had been paying all his attention to the
conversation and did no more than glance at the paper, he did not read
what was written on it at all as what was important for the chief clerk
was not important for him, he took it from K.'s hand saying, "Thank you,
I'm already familiar with everything," and laid it calmly back on the
desk. K. gave him a bitter, sideways look. But the deputy director did
not notice this at all, or if he did notice it it only raised his
spirits, he frequently laughed out loud, one time he clearly embarrassed
the manufacturer when he raised an objection in a witty way but drew him
immediately back out of his embarrassment by commenting adversely on
himself, and finally invited him into his office where they could bring
the matter to its conclusion. "It's a very important matter," said the
manufacturer. "I understand that completely. And I'm sure the chief
clerk ..."--even as he said this he was actually speaking only to the
manufacturer--"will be very glad to have us take it off his hands. This
is something that needs calm consideration. But he seems to be
over-burdened today, there are even some people in the room outside
who've been waiting there for hours for him." K. still had enough
control of himself to turn away from the deputy director and direct his
friendly, albeit stiff, smile only at the manufacturer, he made no other
retaliation, bent down slightly and supported himself with both hands on
his desk like a clerk, and watched as the two gentlemen, still talking,
took the papers from his desk and disappeared into the manager's office.
In the doorway, the manufacturer turned and said he wouldn't make his
farewell with K. just yet, he would of course let the chief clerk know
about the success of his discussions but he also had a little something
to tell him about.
At last, K. was by himself. It did not enter his head to show anyone
else into his office and only became vaguely aware of how nice it was
that the people outside thought he was still negotiating with the
manufacturer and, for this reason, he could not let anyone in to see
him, not even the servitor. He went over to the window, sat down on the
ledge beside it, held firmly on to the handle and looked down onto the
square outside. The snow was still falling, the weather still had not
brightened up at all.
He remained a long time sitting in this way, not knowing what it
actually was that made him so anxious, only occasionally did he glance,
slightly startled, over his shoulder at the door to the outer room
where, mistakenly, he thought he'd heard some noise. No-one came, and
that made him feel calmer, he went over to the wash stand, rinsed his
face with cold water and, his head somewhat clearer, went back to his
place by the window. The decision to take his defence into his own
hands now seemed more of a burden than he had originally assumed. All
the while he had left his defence up to the lawyer his trial had had
little basic affect on him, he had observed it from afar as something
that was scarcely able to reach him directly, when it suited him he
looked to see how things stood but he was also able to draw his head
back again whenever he wanted. Now, in contrast, if he was to conduct
his defence himself, he would have to devote himself entirely to the
court--for the time being, at least--success would mean, later on, his
complete and conclusive liberation, but if he was to achieve this he
would have to place himself, to start with, in far greater danger than
he had been in so far. If he ever felt tempted to doubt this, then his
experience with the deputy director and the manufacturer that day would
be quite enough to convince him of it. How could he have sat there
totally convinced of the need to do his own defence? How would it be
later? What would his life be like in the days ahead? Would he find the
way through it all to a happy conclusion? Did a carefully worked out
defence--and any other sort would have made no sense--did a carefully
worked out defence not also mean he would need to shut himself off from
everything else as much as he could? Would he survive that? And how was
he to succeed in conducting all this at the bank? It involved much more
than just submitting some documents that he could probably prepare in a
few days' leave, although it would have been great temerity to ask for
time off from the bank just at that time, it was a whole trial and there
was no way of seeing how long it might last. This was an enormous
difficulty that had suddenly been thrown into K.'s life!
And was he supposed to be doing the bank's work at a time like this? He
looked down at his desk. Was he supposed to let people in to see him
and go into negotiations with them at a time like this? While his trial
trundled on, while the court officials upstairs in the attic room sat
looking at the papers for this trial, should he be worrying about the
business of the bank? Did this not seem like a kind of torture,
acknowledged by the court, connected with the trial and which followed
him around? And is it likely that anyone in the bank, when judging his
work, would take any account of his peculiar situation? No-one and
never. There were those who knew about his trial, although it was not
quite clear who knew about it or how much. But he hoped rumours had not
reached as far as the deputy director, otherwise he would obviously
soon find a way of making use of it to harm K., he would show neither
comradeship nor humaneness. And what about the director? It was true
that he was well disposed towards K., and as soon as he heard about the
trial he would probably try to do everything he could to make it easier
for him, but he would certainly not devote himself to it. K. at one
time had provided the counter-balance to what the deputy director said
but the director was now coming more and more under his influence, and
the deputy director would also exploit the weakened condition of the
director to strengthen his own power. So what could K. hope for? Maybe
considerations of this sort weakened his power of resistance, but it
was still necessary not to deceive oneself and to see everything as
clearly as it could be seen at that moment.
For no particular reason, just to avoiding returning to his desk for a
while, he opened the window. It was difficult to open and he had to
turn the handle with both his hands. Then, through the whole height and
breadth of the window, the mixture of fog and smoke was drawn into the
room, filling it with a slight smell of burning. A few flakes of snow
were blown in with it. "It's a horrible autumn," said the manufacturer,
who had come into the room unnoticed after seeing the deputy director
and now stood behind K. K. nodded and looked uneasily at the
manufacturer's briefcase, from which he would now probably take the
papers and inform K. of the result of his negotiations with the deputy
director. However, the manufacturer saw where K. was looking, knocked
on his briefcase and without opening it said, "You'll be wanting to
hear how things turned out. I've already got the contract in my pocket,
almost. He's a charming man, your deputy director--he's got his
dangers, though." He laughed as he shook K.'s hand and wanted to make
him laugh with him. But to K., it once more seemed suspicious that the
manufacturer did not want to show him the papers and saw nothing about
his comments to laugh at. "Chief clerk," said the manufacturer, "I
expect the weather's been affecting your mood, has it? You're looking
so worried today." "Yes," said K., raising his hand and holding the
temple of his head, "headaches, worries in the family." "Quite right,"
said the manufacturer, who was always in a hurry and could never listen
to anyone for very long, "everyone has his cross to bear." K. had
unconsciously made a step towards the door as if wanting to show the
manufacturer out, but the manufacturer said, "Chief clerk, there's
something else I'd like to mention to you. I'm very sorry if it's
something that'll be a burden to you today of all days but I've been to
see you twice already, lately, and each time I forgot all about it. If I
delay it any longer it might well lose its point altogether. That would
be a pity, as I think what I've got to say does have some value." Before
K. had had the time to answer, the manufacturer came up close to him,
tapped his knuckle lightly on his chest and said quietly, "You've got a
trial going on, haven't you?" K. stepped back and immediately exclaimed,
"That's what the deputy director's been telling you!" "No, no," said
the manufacturer, "how would the deputy director know about it?" "And
what about you?" asked K., already more in control of himself. "I hear
things about the court here and there," said the manufacturer, "and that
even applies to what it is that I wanted to tell you about." "There are
so many people who have connections with the court!" said K. with
lowered head, and he led the manufacturer over to his desk. They sat
down where they had been before, and the manufacturer said, "I'm afraid
it's not very much that I've got to tell you about. Only, in matters
like this, it's best not to overlook the tiniest details. Besides, I
really want to help you in some way, however modest my help might be.
We've been good business partners up till now, haven't we? Well then."
K. wanted to apologise for his behaviour in the conversation earlier
that day, but the manufacturer would tolerate no interruption, shoved
his briefcase up high in his armpit to show that he was in a hurry, and
carried on. "I know about your case through a certain Titorelli. He's a
painter, Titorelli's just his artistic name, I don't even know what his
real name is. He's been coming to me in my office for years from time to
time, and brings little pictures with him which I buy more or less just
for the sake of charity as he's hardly more than a beggar. And they're
nice pictures, too, moorland landscapes and that sort of thing. We'd
both got used to doing business in this way and it always went smoothly.
Only, one time these visits became a bit too frequent, I began to tell
him off for it, we started talking and I became interested how it was
that he could earn a living just by painting, and then I learned to my
amazement that his main source of income was painting portraits. 'I work
for the court,' he said, 'what court?' said I. And that's when he told
me about the court. I'm sure you can imagine how amazed I was at being
told all this. Ever since then I learn something new about the court
every time he comes to visit, and so little by little I get to
understand something of how it works. Anyway, Titorelli talks a lot and
I often have to push him away, not only because he's bound to be lying
but also, most of all, because a businessman like me who's already close
to breaking point under the weight of his own business worries can't pay
too much attention to other people's. But all that's just by the by.
Perhaps--this is what I've been thinking--perhaps Titorelli might be
able to help you in some small way, he knows lots of judges and even if
he can't have much influence himself he can give you some advice about
how to get some influential people on your side. And even if this
advice doesn't turn out to make all the difference I still think it'll
be very important once you've got it. You're nearly a lawyer yourself.
That's what I always say, Mr. K. the chief clerk is nearly a lawyer. Oh
I'm sure this trial of yours will turn out all right. So do you want to
go and see Titorelli, then. If I ask him to he'll certainly do
everything he possibly can. I really do think you ought to go. It
needn't be today, of course, just some time, when you get the chance.
And anyway--I want to tell you this too--you don't actually have to go
and see Titorelli, this advice from me doesn't place you under any
obligation at all. No, if you think you can get by without Titorelli
it'll certainly be better to leave him completely out of it. Maybe
you've already got a clear idea of what you're doing and Titorelli could
upset your plans. No, if that's the case then of course you shouldn't go
there under any circumstances! And it certainly won't be easy to take
advice from a lad like that. Still, it's up to you. Here's the letter of
recommendation and here's the address."
Disappointed, K. took the letter and put it in his pocket. Even at
best, the advantage he might derive from this recommendation was
incomparably smaller than the damage that lay in the fact of the
manufacturer knowing about his trial, and that the painter was spreading
the news about. It was all he could manage to give the manufacturer, who
was already on his way to the door, a few words of thanks. "I'll go
there," he said as he took his leave of the manufacturer at the door,
"or, as I'm very busy at present, I'll write to him, perhaps he would
like to come to me in my office some time." "I was sure you'd find the
best solution," said the manufacturer. "Although I had thought you'd
prefer to avoid inviting people like this Titorelli to the bank and
talking about the trial here. And it's not always a good idea to send
letters to people like Titorelli, you don't know what might happen to
them. But you're bound to have thought everything through and you know
what you can and can't do." K. nodded and accompanied the manufacturer
on through the ante-room. But despite seeming calm on the outside he was
actually very shocked; he had told the manufacturer he would write to
Titorelli only to show him in some way that he valued his
recommendations and would consider the opportunity to speak with
Titorelli without delay, but if he had thought Titorelli could offer any
worthwhile assistance he would not have delayed. But it was only the
manufacturer's comment that made K. realise what dangers that could lead
to. Was he really able to rely on his own understanding so little? If it
was possible that he might invite a questionable character into the bank
with a clear letter, and ask advice from him about his trial, separated
from the deputy director by no more than a door, was it not possible or
even very likely that there were also other dangers he had failed to see
or that he was even running towards? There was not always someone
beside him to warn him. And just now, just when he would have to act
with all the strength he could muster, now a number of doubts of a sort
he had never before known had presented themselves and affected his own
vigilance! The difficulties he had been feeling in carrying out his
office work; were they now going to affect the trial too? Now, at least,
he found himself quite unable to understand how he could have intended
to write to Titorelli and invite him into the bank.