On Fri, 31 Mar 2017 00:24:50 -0400 grarpamp <grarp...@gmail.com> wrote:
> Before the law sits a gatekeeper. I wonder what he meant by "law" - actually what's the original word in german? > To this gatekeeper comes a man from > the country who asks to gain entry into the law. But the gatekeeper > says that he cannot grant him entry at the moment. The man thinks > about it and then asks if he will be allowed to come in sometime later > on. “It is possible,” says the gatekeeper, “but not now.” The gate to > the law stands open, as always, and the gatekeeper walks to the side, > so the man bends over in order to see through the gate into the > inside. When the gatekeeper notices that, he laughs and says: “If it > tempts you so much, try going inside in spite of my prohibition. But > take note. I am powerful. And I am only the lowliest gatekeeper. But > from room to room stand gatekeepers, each more powerful than the last. > I cannot endure even one glimpse of the third.” The man from the > country has not expected such difficulties: the law should always be > accessible for everyone, he thinks, but as he now looks more closely > at the gatekeeper in his fur coat, at his large pointed nose and his > long, thin, black Tartar’s beard, he decides that it would be better > to wait until he gets permission to go inside. The gatekeeper gives > him a stool and allows him to sit down at the side in front of the > gate. There he sits for days and years. He makes many attempts to be > let in, and he wears the gatekeeper out with his requests. The > gatekeeper often interrogates him briefly, questioning him about his > homeland and many other things, but they are indifferent questions, > the kind great men put, and at the end he always tells him once more > that he cannot let him inside yet. The man, who has equipped himself > with many things for his journey, spends everything, no matter how > valuable, to win over the gatekeeper. The latter takes it all but, as > he does so, says, “I am taking this only so that you do not think you > have failed to do anything.” > During the many years the man observes the gatekeeper almost > continuously. He forgets the other gatekeepers, and this first one > seems to him the only obstacle for entry into the law. He curses the > unlucky circumstance, in the first years thoughtlessly and out loud; > later, as he grows old, he only mumbles to himself. He becomes > childish and, since in the long years studying the gatekeeper he has > also come to know the fleas in his fur collar, he even asks the fleas > to help him persuade the gatekeeper. Finally his eyesight grows weak, > and he does not know whether things are really darker around him or > whether his eyes are merely deceiving him. But he recognizes now in > the darkness an illumination which breaks inextinguishably out of the > gateway to the law. Now he no longer has much time to live. Before his > death he gathers up in his head all his experiences of the entire time > into one question which he has not yet put to the gatekeeper. He waves > to him, since he can no longer lift up his stiffening body. The > gatekeeper has to bend way down to him, for the difference between > them has changed considerably to the disadvantage of the man. “What do > you want to know now?” asks the gatekeeper. “You are insatiable.” > “Everyone strives after the law,” says the man, “so how is it that in > these many years no one except me has requested entry?” The gatekeeper > sees that the man is already dying and, in order to reach his > diminishing sense of hearing, he shouts at him, “Here no one else can > gain entry, since this entrance was assigned only to you. I’m going > now to close it.” > -- Kafka