Kafka's Stories

A collection of §0 §r§4Short Stories§r §0 by§r §0 §r§4Franz Kafka§r §0 (1883-1924)§r §0 Transcribed by§r §0 §r§4 4788888§r §0 Translated by§r §4 Tania & James Stern§r §4 Michael Hoffman§r §4 Ian Johnston§r

§lI. The Vulture§r §0A vulture was hacking at my feet. It had already torn my boots and stockings§r §0to shreds, now it was hacking at the feet themselves. Again and again it struck at them,§r §0then circled several times restlessly around me, then returned to§r

continue its work. A §0gentleman passed by, looked on for a while, then asked me why I suffered the vulture.§r §0"I'm helpless," I said. "When it came and began to attack me, I of course tried to drive it away, even to strangle it, but these animals are very§r

strong, it was about to spring at my face, but I preferred to sacrifice my feet. Now they are almost torn to bits." §0"Fancy letting yourself be tortured like this!" said the gentleman. "One shot and that's the end of the vulture."§r

"Really?" I said. "And would you do that?" §0"With pleasure," said the gentleman, "I've only got to go home and get my gun. Could you wait another half-hour?"§r §0"I'm not sure about that," said I, and stood for a moment rigid with pain. Then I said:§r

"Do try it in any case, please." §0"Very well," said the gentleman, "I'll be as quick as I can."§r §0During this conversation the vulture had been calmly listening, letting its eye rove between me and the gentleman. Now I realized that§r

it had understood everything; it took wing, leaned far back to gain impetus, and then, like a javelin thrower, thrust its beak through my mouth, deep into me. Falling back, I was relieved to feel him drowning irretrievably in my blood, which was

filling every depth, flooding every shore. §o§0Published in 1920§r

§lII. Poseidon§r §0Poseidon was sitting at his desk working. The administration of all the waters was a huge task. He could have had as many assistants as he wanted, and in fact he did have a large staff, but since he took his job very seriously and went§r

through all the calculations himself anyway, assistants were of little use to him. One couldn’t say that the work made him happy either; he only did it because it was his to do. Yes, he had often requested happier work, as he put it, but whenever they

came back to him with suggestions, it turned out that nothing appealed to him as much as what he was doing. It was actually very difficult to find anything else for him. It was hardly possible to put him in charge of a particular sea, quite apart from the

fact that the calculations involved were no less onerous, just more trivial, since great Poseidon was only in line for an executive post. And if he was offered a job in a different department, the very thought of it was enough to turn his stomach, his

divine breath became restless, his bronze thorax quaked. Not that they took his complaints all that seriously: if a great power kicks up, then you have to be seen to give into him, even in the most hopeless cause; no one seriously thought of having

Poseidon removed from office, he had been god of the seas from the beginning of time, and would have to remain such. §0The thing that most angered him—and this was the principal cause of his unhappiness in his job—was when he got to hear what people§r

thought it involved, that is, forever parting the waves with his trident. And when all the time he was sitting at the bottom of the ocean up to his ears in figures, the occasional visit to Jupiter was really the only break in the monotony; a visit,

moreover, from which he usually returned in a towering bad temper. He hardly ever clapped eyes on the seas, only fleetingly on his hurried way up to Olympus, and he had never sailed them as such. He tended to say he was waiting for the world to end first,

because there was bound to be a quiet moment just before the end when he had signed off on his last calculation and would be able to take himself on a little cruise somewhere. §o§0Published in 1920§r

§lIII. Before the Law§r §0Before the law sits a gatekeeper. 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§r

he will be allowed to come in later on. §0"It is possible," says the gatekeeper, "but not now."§r §0At the moment 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§r

gate into the inside. When the gatekeeper notices that, he laughs and says: §0"If it tempts you so much, try it in spite of my prohibition. But take note: I am powerful. And I am only the most lowly gatekeeper. But from room to room stand gatekeepers,§r

each more powerful than the other. I can’t endure even one glimpse of the third." §0The 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§r

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, §0"I am taking this only so that you do not think you have failed to do anything."§r §0During the many years the man observes the gatekeeper almost continuously. He forgets the other§r

gatekeepers, and this 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 still mumbles to himself. He becomes childish and, since in the

long years studying the gatekeeper he has 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 in his head all his experiences

of the entire time up 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. §0The gatekeeper has to bend way down to him, for the great difference has changed things to the§r

disadvantage of the man. §0"What do you still want to know, then?" asks the gatekeeper. "You are insatiable."§r §0"Everyone strives after the law," says the man, "so how is that in these many years no one except§r

me has requested entry?" §0The gatekeeper sees that the man is already dying and, in order to reach his diminishing sense of hearing, he shouts at him,§r §0"Here no one else can gain entry, since this entrance was assigned §r

only to you. I’m going now to close it." §o§0Published in 1915§r

§lIV. A Little Fable§r §0"Alas", said the mouse, "the whole world is growing smaller every day. At the beginning it was so big that I was afraid, I kept running and running, and I was glad when I saw walls far away to the right and left, but these long§r

walls have narrowed so quickly that I am in the last chamber already, and there in the corner stands the trap that I am running into." §0"You only need to change your direction," said the cat, and ate it up.§r §o§0Published 1920§r

§lV. Prometheus§r §0There are four legends concerning Prometheus:§r §0According to the first he was clamped to a rock in the Caucasus for betraying the secret of the gods to men, and the gods sent eagles to feed on his liver, which was perpetually renewed.§r

According to the second Prometheus, goaded by the pain of the tearing beaks, §0pressed himself deeper and deeper into the rock until he became one with it.§r §0According to the third his treachery was forgotten in the course of thousands of years, forgotten§r

by the gods, the eagles, forgotten by himself. §0According to the fourth everyone grew weary of the meaningless affair. The gods grew weary, the eagles grew weary, the wound closed wearily.§r §0There remained the inexplicable mass of§r

rock. The legend tried to explain the inexplicable. As it came out of a substratum of truth, it had in turn to end in the inexplicable. §o§0Published 1931§r

§lVI. The Helmsman§r §0"Am I not the helmsman here?" I called out.§r §0"You?" asked a tall, dark man and passed his hands over his eyes as though to banish a dream. I had been standing at the helm in the dark night, a feeble lantern burning over my head, §r

and now this man had come and tried to push me aside. And as I would not yield, he put his foot on my chest and slowly crushed me while I still clung to the hub of the helm, wrenching it around in falling. But the man seized it, pulled it back in place,

and pushed me away. I soon collected myself, however, ran to the hatchway which gave on to the mess quarters, and cried out: "Men! Comrades! Come here, quick! A stranger has driven me away from the helm!" §0Slowly they came up, climbing the companion§r

ladder, tired, swaying, powerful figures. §0"Am I the helmsman?" I asked. They nodded, but they had eyes only for the stranger, stood around him in a semicircle, and when, in a commanding voice, he said:§r §0"Don't disturb me!" they gathered§r

together, nodded at me, and withdrew down the companion ladder. What kind of people are these? Do they ever think, or do they only shuffle pointlessly over the earth? §o§0Published 1936§r

§lLetter from the Author:§r §0I hope you thoroughly enjoyed this first volume collecting several of Franz Kafka's most influential short stories into one work. Kafka's writing highlights the moral depravities and hypocrisy of society, and has a way of§r

resonating deeply with individuals regardless of the time period. In §o§0The Vulture§r§0, Kafka explores inner depravity and how a corrupted conscience (the vulture) can eat away at a person. §r§o§0Poseidon§r§0 question whether divinity is truly fulfilling, and§r

proposes that the human condition may be more satisfying in the end. In §o§0Before the Law§r§0, he famously examines a man seeking to know the "Law," an allegory many have proposed as purpose or order in existence. §r§o§0A Little Fable§r§0 offers a short break from§r

Kafka's more serious works, but the implications in one's own life are clear. §o§0Prometheus§r§0 is another one of Kafka's most famous works, demonstrating how interpretation of a story can completely alter what a person believes to be true. Finally, in §§r

§T§o§0The Helmsman§r§0, we see Kafka in his own internal struggle, one shared by many, on whether or not the people around him actually care about what happens or think about the absurdities in the world around them.§r §44788888§r §4Bremerhaven Scholar§r

§0 Written on§r §0 §r§4March 3rd, 2020§r §0 Published by§r §0 § §r§1 Library§r §1 Association§r §1 Press§r §0 In beautiful§r §0 §r§2Bremerhaven§r

Thank you for reading a §3Library Association Press §r§0book! Consider joining the Bremerhaven discord and visiting our library and publishing house; we know you'll love the rest of our collection!§r §0Also, look out for §r§6Volume 2§r§0 of §r§4Kafka's Stories§r§0!§r