{"product_id":"the-castle-isbn-9780679417354","title":"The Castle","description":"\u003cb\u003eFrom the author of \u003ci\u003eThe Metamorphosis\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Trial\u003c\/i\u003e, and one of the greatest writers of the twentieth century:   Arriving in a village to take up the position of land surveyor for the   mysterious lord of a castle, the character known as K. finds himself in a   bitter and baffling struggle to contact his new employer and go about his   duties. \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As the villagers and the Castle officials block   his efforts at every turn, K.’s consuming quest–quite possibly a self-imposed   one–to penetrate the inaccessible heart of the Castle and take its measure is   repeatedly frustrated. Kafka once suggested that the would-be surveyor in \u003ci\u003eThe   Castle \u003c\/i\u003eis driven by a wish “to get clear about ultimate things,” an   unrealizable desire that provided the driving force behind all of Kafka’s   dazzlingly uncanny fictions. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEveryman's Library pursues the highest production standards, printing on acid-free cream-colored paper, with full-cloth cases with two-color foil stamping, decorative endpapers, silk ribbon markers, European-style half-round spines, and a full-color illustrated jacket. Contemporary Classics include an introduction, a select bibliography, and a chronology of the author's life and times.“Of all Kafka’s fiction this is the most personal. K. is not of course a mouthpiece for Kafka–he lacks Kafka’s grave intelligence and humor–but his inner conflict between a taste for ordinary life and the demands imposed by his quest were in good part shared by Kafka.... \u003ci\u003eThe Castle\u003c\/i\u003e projects a greater strength of will than we have encountered in Kafka’s earlier writings–an effort to overcome the muteness of existence.” —from the Introduction by Irving HoweThe son of a well-to-do merchant, Franz Kafka was born in Prague in 1883 and died of tuberculosis in a sanitorium near Vienna in 1924. After earning a law degree in 1906, he worked most of his adult life at the Workers Accident Insurance Company for the Kingdom of Bohemia in Prague. Only a small portion of his writings were published during his lifetime; most of them, including the three unfinished novels,\u003ci\u003e Amerika, The Trial,\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Castle,\u003c\/i\u003e were published posthumously.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMark Harman holds a Ph.D. from Yale University and has taught German and Irish literature at Oberlin and Dartmouth. In addition to writing scholarly essays on Kafka and other modern authors, he has edited and co-translated \u003ci\u003eRobert Walser Rediscovered: Stories, Fairy-Tale Plays, and Critical Responses\u003c\/i\u003e and has translated \u003ci\u003eSoul of the Age: Selected Letters of Hermann Hesse, 1891-1962.\u003c\/i\u003e He teaches literature at the University of Pennsylvania.Arrival\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It was late evening when K. arrived. The village lay under deep snow. There  was no sign of the Castle hill, fog and darkness surrounded it, not even the faintest  gleam of light suggested the large Castle. K. stood a long time on the wooden bridge  that leads from the main road to the village, gazing upward into the seeming emptiness.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         Then he went looking for a night's lodging; at the inn they were still awake;  the landlord had no room available, but, extremely surprised and confused by the  latecomer, he was willing to let K. sleep on a straw mattress in the taproom, K.  agreed to this. A few peasants were still sitting over beer, but he did not want  to talk to anyone, got himself a straw mattress from the attic and lay down by the  stove. It was warm, the peasants were quiet, he examined them for a moment with tired  eyes, then fell asleep.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         Yet before long he was awakened. A young man in  city clothes, with an actor's face, narrow eyes, thick eyebrows, stood beside him  with the landlord. The peasants, too, were still there, a few had turned their chairs  around to see and hear better. The young man apologized very politely for having  awakened K., introduced himself as the son of the Castle steward and said: \"This  village is Castle property, anybody residing or spending the night here is effectively  residing or spending the night at the Castle. Nobody may do so without permission  from the Count. But you have no such permission or at least you haven't shown it  yet.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         K., who had half-risen and smoothed his hair, looked at the people  from below and said: \"What village have I wandered into? So there is a castle here?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Why, of course,\" the young man said slowly, while several peasants here  and there shook their heads at K., \"the Castle of Count Westwest.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"And  one needs permission to spend the night here?\" asked K., as though he wanted to persuade  himself that he hadn't perhaps heard the previous statements in a dream.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Permission  is needed\" was the reply, and this turned into crude mockery at K.'s expense when  the young man, stretching out his arm, asked the landlord and the guests: \"Or perhaps  permission is not needed?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Then I must go and get myself permission,\" said  K., yawning and pushing off the blanket, as though he intended to get up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Yes,  but from whom?\" asked the young man.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"From the Count,\" said K., \"there doesn't  seem to be any alternative.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Get permission from the Count, now, at midnight?\"  cried the young man, stepping back a pace.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Is that not possible?\" K. asked  calmly. \"Then why did you wake me up?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         The young man now lost his composure,  \"The manners of a tramp!\" he cried. \"I demand respect for the Count's authorities.  I awakened you to inform you that you must leave the Count's domain at once.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Enough  of this comedy,\" said K. in a remarkably soft voice as he lay down and pulled up  the blanket: \"You are going a little too far, young man, and I shall deal with your  conduct tomorrow. The landlord and those gentlemen there will be my witnesses, should  I even need witnesses. Besides, be advised that I am the land surveyor sent for by  the Count. My assistants and the equipment are coming tomorrow by carriage. I didn't  want to deprive myself of a long walk through the snow, but unfortunately lost my  way a few times, which is why I arrived so late. That it was too late then to report  to the Castle is something that was already apparent to me without the benefit of  your instructions. That's also the reason why I decided to content myself with these  lodgings, where you have been so impolite--to put it mildly--as to disturb me. I  have nothing further to add to that statement. Good night, gentlemen.\" And K. turned  toward the stove.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Land surveyor?\" he heard someone asking hesitantly behind  his back, and then everyone was silent. But the young man soon regained his composure  and said to the landlord, softly enough to suggest concern for K.'s sleep, yet loudly  enough to be audible to him: \"I shall inquire by telephone.\" So there was even a  telephone in this village inn? They were certainly well equipped. True, certain details  took K. by surprise, but on the whole everything was as expected. As it turned out,  the telephone hung from the wall almost directly above his head, in his sleepiness  he had overlooked it. If the young man had to use the telephone, then even with the  best intentions he could not avoid disturbing K.'s sleep, it was simply a matter  of deciding whether or not to let him use the telephone, K. decided to allow it.  But then of course it no longer made sense to pretend he was asleep, so he turned  over on his back again. He watched the peasants gathering timidly and conferring,  the arrival of a land surveyor was no trifling matter. The door to the kitchen had  opened; filling the doorway was the mighty figure of the landlady, the landlord approached  her on tiptoes in order to report to her. Then the telephone conversation began.  The steward was asleep, but a substeward, one of the substewards, a Mr. Fritz, was  there. The young man, who introduced himself as Schwarzer, said that he had found  K., a man in his thirties, rather shabby-looking, sleeping quietly on a straw mattress,  with a tiny rucksack for a pillow and a knobby walking stick within reach. Well,  he had of course suspected him, and since the landlord had obviously neglected his  duty, it was his, Schwarzer's, duty to investigate the matter. K.'s response on being  awakened, questioned, and duly threatened with expulsion from the Count's domain  had been most ungracious but perhaps not unjustifiably so, as had finally become  evident, for he claimed to be a land surveyor summoned by the Count. He was duty-bound  to check this claim, if only as a formality, and so Schwarzer was asking Mr. Fritz  to inquire at the central office whether a land surveyor of that sort was really  expected and to telephone immediately with the answer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         Then there was silence,  Fritz made his inquiries over there while everyone here waited for the answer, K.  stayed where he was, did not even turn around, seemed completely indifferent, stared  into space. With its mixture of malice and caution Schwarzer's story gave him a sense  of the quasi-diplomatic training that even lowly people at the Castle such as Schwarzer  could draw on so freely. Nor did they show any lack of diligence there, the central  office had a night service. And obviously answered very quickly, for Fritz was already  on the line again. Yet it seemed to be a brief message, since Schwarzer immediately  threw down the receiver in a rage. \"Just as I said,\" he shouted, \"no trace of a land  surveyor, only a liar and a common tramp, and probably worse still.\" For a moment  K. thought that everybody, Schwarzer, the peasants, the landlord and landlady, was  about to jump on him, and he crawled all the way under the blanket to escape at least  the first assault, when--he was slowly stretching his head back out--the telephone  rang again, especially loud, it seemed to K. Although it was unlikely that this call  also concerned K., everyone froze, and Schwarzer came back to the telephone. After  listening to a fairly long explanation, he said softly: \"So it's a mistake? This  is most unpleasant. The department head himself telephoned? Odd, very odd! And how  am I supposed to explain this to the land surveyor?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         K. listened intently.  So the Castle had appointed him land surveyor. On one hand, this was unfavorable,  for it showed that the Castle had all necessary information about him, had assessed  the opposing forces, and was taking up the struggle with a smile. On the other hand,  it was favorable, for it proved to his mind that they underestimated him and that  he would enjoy greater freedom than he could have hoped for at the beginning. And  if they thought they could keep him terrified all the time simply by acknowledging  his surveyorship--though this was certainly a superior move on their part--then they  were mistaken, for he felt only a slight shudder, that was all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         After waving  aside Schwarzer, who was timidly approaching, K. rejected their insistent pleas that  he move into the landlord's room, accepted only a nightcap from the landlord and  a wash basin with soap and towel from the landlady, and did not even have to request  that the room be cleared, for all rushed to the door, averting their faces so that  he wouldn't recognize them tomorrow, then the lamp was extinguished and he finally  had some peace. He slept soundly until morning, only briefly disturbed once or twice  by scurrying rats.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         After breakfast, which the landlord said would be covered  by the Castle along with K.'s full board, he wanted to go immediately to the village.  Recalling the landlord's conduct yesterday, K. spoke to him only when strictly necessary,  but since the landlord kept circling him in a silent plea, K. took pity on him and  let him sit down for a moment beside him.\u003cbr\u003e         \"I still haven't met the Count,\"  said K., \"they say he pays good money for good work, is that so? Anybody traveling  as far from his wife and child as I am wants to have something to take home with  him.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"The gentleman need have no worries in that regard, one doesn't hear  any complaints about bad pay here.\"\u003cbr\u003e         \"Well,\" said K., \"I'm not at all shy  and am quite capable of saying what I think, even to a Count, though it is naturally  far better if one can remain on friendly terms with those gentlemen.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         The  landlord sat opposite K. on the edge of the window seat, not daring to sit more comfortably  and keeping his large, anxious brown eyes fixed on K. At first he had thrust himself  on K., but now it seemed as if he wanted to run away. Was he afraid of being questioned  about the Count? Was he afraid that the \"gentleman\" whom he saw in K. was unreliable?  K. had to distract him. He looked at the clock and said: \"Well, my assistants will  be here soon, can you put them up?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Certainly, sir,\" he said, \"but won't  they be staying with you at the Castle?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         Was he parting that easily and  that gladly with his guests, especially K., whom he was quite determined to transfer  to the Castle?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"That hasn't been settled,\" said K., \"first I must find out  what kind of work they have for me. For instance, if I'm to work down here, then  it would make more sense for me to live here, too. And I fear that the life up there  at the Castle wouldn't appeal to me. I want to be free at all times.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"You  don't know the Castle,\" the landlord said softly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         \"Of course,\" said K, \"one  shouldn't judge matters too hastily. All I can say about the Castle for now is that  they know how to choose the right land surveyor. There might be other advantages  there, too.\" And he stood up in order to release the landlord--who kept anxiously  biting his lips--from his presence. It certainly wasn't easy to win the confidence  of this man.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         On the way out, K. observed on the wall a dark portrait in  a dark frame. He had already noticed it from his bed, but unable to discern any details  from that distance, he had thought that the actual picture had been taken from the  frame, and only the dark backing was to be seen. But it was indeed a picture, as  now became evident, the half-length portrait of a man around fifty. He held his head  so low over his chest that one barely saw his eyes, the drooping seemed to be caused  by the high, ponderous forehead and the powerful, crooked nose. His beard, pressed  in at the chin owing to the position of his head, jutted out farther below. His left  hand was spread out in his thick hair but could no longer support his head. \"Who  is that,\" asked K., \"the Count?\" K. stood before the picture and did not even turn  to glance at the landlord. \"No,\" said the landlord, \"the steward.\" \"They do have  a handsome steward at the Castle, that's for sure,\" said K., \"what a pity his son  turned out so badly.\" \"No,\" said the landlord, drawing K. down and whispering in  his ear, \"Schwarzer exaggerated yesterday, his father is only a substeward, and one  of the lowest at that.\" Just then the landlord seemed like a child to K. \"The rascal,\"  said K., laughing, but the landlord said without laughing: \"Even his father is powerful.\"  \"Come on!\" said K., \"you consider everyone powerful. Me too, perhaps?\" \"No,\" he said,  timidly but gravely, \"I do not consider you powerful.\" \"Well, you're very observant,  then,\" said K., \"for, speaking in confidence now, I'm really not powerful at all.  And so I probably have no less respect for those with power than you do, only I'm  not as honest as you are and don't always care to admit it.\" K. tapped the landlord  on the cheek in order to comfort him and to gain his affection. And now he even gave  a little smile. He was really a boy with his soft, almost beardless face. How had  he come by his stout, older wife, whom one could see through a small window, bustling  about with her elbows sticking out? Yet K. did not want to question him any further  and risk chasing away the smile he had finally elicited, so he merely signaled to  him to open the door and stepped out into the beautiful winter morning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         Now  he saw the Castle above, sharply outlined in the clear air and made even sharper  by the snow, which traced each shape and lay everywhere in a thin layer. Besides,  there seemed to be a great deal less snow up on the hill than here in the village,  where it was no less difficult for K. to make headway than it had been yesterday  on the main road. Here the snow rose to the cottage windows only to weigh down on  the low roofs, whereas on the hill everything soared up, free and light, or at least  seemed to from here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e         On the whole the Castle, as it appeared from this distance,  corresponded to K.'s expectations. It was neither an old knight's fortress nor a  magnificent new edifice, but a large complex, made up of a few two-story buildings  and many lower, tightly packed ones; had one not known that this was a castle, one  could have taken it for a small town. K. saw only one tower, whether it belonged  to a dwelling or a church was impossible to tell. Swarms of crows circled round it.","brand":"Everyman's Library","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301324738789,"sku":"NP9780679417354","price":32.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780679417354.jpg?v=1767738621","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/the-castle-isbn-9780679417354","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}