11.10.2009
(Continued from
part 1.)
2) In my reading
of the first chapter, I have focused on an analysis of K.'s personality.
Such an analysis proceeds by registering character traits, supported by
evidence from the text that shows how these traits manifest themselves in the
thoughts, actions and feelings of the protagonist.
Now, interestingly, we find a similar analysis in the passage following
the doorkeeper story. The story features two characters: the man from the
country, and the doorkeeper. It is the personality of the latter which is
under scrutiny; the chaplain discusses extensively the various utterances
of the doorkeeper, draws inferences about his character and about the
constellation between the two people in the story.
K.'s response to all this is a little surprising. He seems to accept the
interpretation set out by the chaplain, which culminates in the conclusion:
"Jedenfalls schließt sich so die Gestalt des Türhüters
anders ab, als du es glaubst" (298)[1]. Almost everywhere else in the novel
K. reacts allergically to the implication that he might be wrong about
something; in this case, he quietly acknowledges the greater competence of
the chaplain. A period of silence follows, presumably with K. reflecting on
what's been said, and that is another rare event. Somehow the chaplain has
managed to move K. out of his typical arrogant and unreflective behavior
into a more thoughtful and conceding mode.
The result of the long character analysis can be summarized thus: the
doorkeeper is a dutiful person, but allows himself in a misguided kindness
to overstep his duties; his job is to guard the door and refuse entry to
the man from the country, but indulging a weakness, he hints at the
possibility of later entry (which he cannot grant).
This is the same form of misguided kindness that a teacher shows when
letting a student pass an intermediate exam although he is clearly
underperforming. It merely delays the unpleasant task of telling the
student that he hasn't what it takes; at a later time, however, it won't be
any the less hurtful, but by then valuable time will have gone by that could
have been used much better than for the pursuit of studies which won't result
in a successfully passed final exam anyway.
So, although technically the doorkeeper has done his job (refusing entry
to the man from the country), his behavior still has complicated things
immensely, and that behavior has resulted from his personality. In
particular, the doorkeeper should not have planted false hopes of eventual
entry in the man, who spends his remaining life (and quite a few goods he's
brought with him, too) on the trail of that false hope. Acting wrongly can
cause damage, even when it is well-intended.
And it is not only the man from the country who clings to this hope. K.
himself is strongly moved by it. (Which is a strong indicator that he takes
the predicament of the man again to stand symbolically for one he sees
himself in.) Still sympathizing with the man from the country, K. claims
that the doorkeeper has acted wrongly: he has violated his duty, thereby
causing harm to the man. The chaplain disagrees, and naturally the question
is now what exactly we should think is included in the duties of the
doorkeeper.
Since the term 'duty' is so prominent in this passage, we should be clear
about one implication of that concept. If someone has a duty towards you,
this entails that you have a right, by not doing their duty, then,
they would deprive you of what it yours by right, and this would be an
injustice you'd be suffering.
When K. claims that the doorkeeper should have refused entry to perhaps
anybody else, but should have let the man from the country pass, he takes
the duties of the doorkeeper to include to ensure that nobody else but the
man gains entry. In other words, it seems that K. thinks that it is the
task of the doorkeeper to protect the right of the man from the country to
gain entry.
Imagine the following, analogous scenario: your boss calls you and tells
you that the company is currently thinking about creating a new post with
special responsibilities. It's not yet decided whether the post will be
created, but it's an option that is seriously considered. If they will do
it, however, they would ask you, and only you, to fill the post. No other
person could do it — neither from within the company (nobody has your
particular set of skills) nor from without (let's assume the new post would
require extensive internal knowledge). So, given a positive decision to
actually install that new post, would you be interested?
It is clear, in this scenario, that you have not been given any promises.
When in the event the job actually isn't created, you'll be understandably
disappointed. (And it doesn't show much sensitivity anyway by the boss to
ask you in advance when there was no certainty yet.) Bitter as that
disappointment is bound to be, it should not lead you to the conclusion that
your rights have been violated — or in other words, that the company
had a duty or commitment to create that job for you. Drawing that conclusion
would be a mistake; it is not warranted by the situation. K., however,
does draw exactly this conclusion on behalf of the man from the country
(and therefore, by his well-known self-identification with the man from
the country, K. again sees a fellow victim, a person who had his rights
violated).
But this time the chaplain is more successful in getting a grip on the
fallacious move, and he can defuse K.'s claim of violated rights by his
extensive analysis of the doorkeeper's character and the resulting proof
that he shouldn't be taken as failing in any duty that might be sensibly
assumed on his part. Unlike on the slippery ground of supposed deception,
he can convincingly (for K., at any rate) show that there is no reason
to see the man from the country as a victim of unjust behavior on the part
of the doorkeeper.
(To be continued.)
__
[1] All references to The Trial are made by page number
from the critical edition of Kafka's works: Franz Kafka,
Der Proceß, ed. Malcolm Pasley, Schriften. Tagebücher.
Kritische Ausgabe, eds. Jürgen Born et. al., Frankfurt a.M.:
Fischer 2002.
