Before The Law :: Short Story Stories Essays

Before The LawBEFORE THE LAW stands a doorkeeper. To this doorkeeper there comes a man from the country and prays for admission charge to the Law. But the doorkeeper says that he cannot grant admittance at the moment. The man thinks it over and then asks if he will be totallyowed in later. It is possible, says the doorkeeper, just not at the moment. Since the gate stands open, as usual, and the doorkeeper steps to one side, the man stoops to peer through the gateway into the interior. Observing that, the doorkeeper laughs and says If you are so gaunt to it, just try to go in despite my veto. But take note I am powerful. And I am only the least of the doorkeepers. From vestibule to hall there is one doorkeeper after another, each more powerful than the last. The third doorkeeper is already so terrible that even I cannot take up to look at him. These are difficulties the man from the country has not expected the Law, he thinks, should surely be accessible at all times and to ever yone, merely as he now takes a closer look at the doorkeeper in his fur coat, with his big sharp nose and long, thin, black infinitesimal calculus beard, he decides that it is better to wait until he gets permission to enter. The doorkeeper gives him a stool and lets him sit down at one side of the door. There he sits for days and years. He makes umpteen attempts to be admitted, and wearies the doorkeeper by his importunity. The doorkeeper frequently has little interviews with him, asking him questions about his home and many other things, but the questions are put indifferently, as great lords put them, and always finish with the statement that he cannot be let in yet. The man, who has furnished himself with many things for his journey, sacrifices all he has, however valuable, to bribe the doorkeeper. The doorkeeper accepts everything, but always with the remark I am only taking it to keep you from thinking you have omitted anything. During these many years the man fixes his att ention almost continuously on the doorkeeper. He forgets the other doorkeepers, and this first one seems to him the sole obstacle preventing access to the Law. He curses his corked luck, in his early years boldly and loudly later, as he grows old, he only grumbles to himself.