Франц Кафка - The Complete Stories (forword by John Updike)

Still wearing her outdoor clothes — she had not found time to change — she brought in a nightshirt that she had warmed before the fire for her husband to put on. "He's fallen asleep," she said, smiling and shaking her head, when she found us sitting so still. And with the infinite trustfulness of the innocent she took up the same hand that I had held a moment before with such fear and repugnance, kissed it playfully, and — how could we three others have borne the sight? — N. moved, yawned loudly, allowed his nightshirt to be put on, endured with a mixture of annoyance and irony his wife's tender reproaches for having overstrained himself by taking such a long walk, and strangely enough said in reply, to provide no doubt a different explanation for his having fallen asleep, something about feeling bored. Then, so as not to catch cold by going through the draughty passage into a different room, he lay down for the time being in his son's bed; his head was bedded down beside his son's feet on two cushions hastily brought by his wife. After all that had gone before I found nothing particularly odd in that. Then he asked for the evening paper, opened it without paying any attention to his guests, but did not read it, only glancing through it here and there, and made several very unpleasant observations on our offers, observations which showed astonishing shrewdness, while he waved his free hand disdainfully, and by clicking his tongue indicated that our business methods had left a bad taste in his mouth. The agent could not refrain from making one or two untimely remarks, no doubt he felt in his insensitive way that some compensation was due to him after what had happened, but his way of. securing it was the worst he could have chosen. I said goodbye as soon as I could, I felt almost grateful to the agent; if he had not been there I would not have had the resolution to leave so soon.

In the lobby I met Frau N. again. At the sight of that pathetic figure I said impulsively that she reminded me a little of my mother. And as she remained silent I added: "Whatever people say, she could do wonders. Things that we destroyed she could make whole again. I lost her when I was still a child." I had spoken with deliberate slowness and distinctness, for I assumed the old lady was hard of hearing. But she must have been quite deaf, for she asked without transition: "And how does my husband look to you?" From a few parting words I noticed, moreover, that she confused me with the agent; I like to think that otherwise she would have been more forthcoming.

Then I descended the stairs: The descent was more tiring than the ascent had been, and not even that had been easy. Oh, how many business calls come to nothing, and yet one must keep going.

Translated by Willa and Edwin Muir

Give it Up!

IT WAS very early in the morning, the streets clean and deserted, I was on my way to the station. As I compared the tower clock with my watch I realized it was much later than I had thought and that I had to hurry; the shock of this discovery made me feel uncertain of the way, I wasn't very well acquainted with the town as yet; fortunately, there was a policeman at hand, I ran to him and breathlessly asked him the way. He smiled and said: "You asking me the way?" "Yes," I said, "since I can't find it myself." "Give it up! Give it up!" said he, and turned with a sudden jerk, like someone who wants to be alone with his laughter.

Translated by Tania and James Stern

On Parables

MANY complain that the words of the wise are always merely parables and of no use in daily life, which is the only life we have. When the sage says: "Go over," he does not mean that we should cross to some actual place, which we could do anyhow if the labor were worth it; he means some fabulous yonder, something unknown to us, something that he cannot designate more precisely either, and therefore cannot help us here in the very least. All these parables really set out to say merely that the incomprehensible is incomprehensible, and we know that already. But the cares we have to struggle with every day: that is a different matter.

Concerning this a man once said: Why such reluctance? If you only followed the parables you yourselves would become parables and with that rid of all your daily cares.

Another said: I bet that is also a parable.

The first said: You have won.

The second said: But unfortunately only in parable.

The first said: No, in reality: in parable you have lost.

Translated by Willa and Edwin Muir

POSTSCRIPT

Albert Camus once said that "the whole of Kafka's art consists in compelling the reader to re-read him." Since the interpretations of Kafka are many and the search for the meaning of his stories seemingly endless, the reader will return to the story itself in the hope of finding guidance from within. Thus a second reading will — hopefully — become a commentary on the first, and subsequent readings will — again hopefully — shed light on the preceding ones. It is the purpose of this volume to provide ready access to the entire corpus of Kafka's stories; they, rather than the novels, constitute the very core of his brief life's work.

The longer stories which form the bulk of the volume are followed by a collection of shorter stories and sketches. All stories published by Kafka during his lifetime and the material from the literary estate that Max Brod selected for publication after Kafka's death are included. Within the two parts (the longer and the shorter stories) a chronological order has been attempted. The notes by Max Brod and, later, the efforts of Klaus Wagenbach, Malcolm Pasley, and Ludwig Dietz to establish a literary chronology have been consulted and have offered welcome aid. Some dates remain approximations only.

Kafka chose the titles of the stories in the case of material published by himself. All other tales were given their titles by Max Brod, except for "Description of a Struggle," "The Village Schoolmaster," "The Bucket Rider," "The Great Wall of China," "A Crossbreed," and "The Problem of Our Laws," which come from Kafka's hand.

"The Stoker," though published by Kafka as a separate story, is not included; it has its rightful place as the first chapter of the novel Amerika. Two brief dialogues, "Conversation with the Supplicant" and "Conversation with the Drunk," also published by Kafka, have been omitted; they reappear in their proper context in "Description of a Struggle." However, "The Trees," "Clothes," and "Excursion into the Mountains" — also from "Description of a Struggle" — were retained. And, because of their special significance, two pieces, parts of other works by Kafka, are reproduced here as "introductory parables": "Before the Law," which reappears in the novel The Trial; and "An Imperial Message," whose place is in "The Great Wall of China." The fragments of "The Hunter Gracchus", "The Great Wall of China," and "A Report to an Academy" are placed after the stories that bear these titles. "The Warden of the Tomb," Kafka's only piece in dramatic form, was given hospitality in this volume of stories.

In 1934, a decade after Franz Kafka's death, Schocken Verlag, Berlin, acquired the world rights to his works in an agreement made with Kafka's mother and with Max Brod, whom the author had appointed his literary executor. Between 1935 and 1937, Schocken Verlag published the first German edition of Kafka's collected writings. In 1946, Schocken Books Inc., New York, reissued this German-language edition, and has since published English-language translations of most of the works (see Bibliography). In 1950, Schocken granted a license to S. Fischer Verlag, Frankfurt am Main, for German publication of Kafka's oeuvre. Kafka's writings have been translated and published in many countries, east and west. British editions are published by Martin Seeker & Warburg Ltd., London.