Spaces of hospitality
Spaces of hospitality
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DOI:
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发表时间:
2004
期刊:
影响因子:
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通讯作者:
translated by james keye
中科院分区:
文献类型:
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作者:
H. Friese;translated by james keye
“‘Surveyor,’ he said, ‘you cannot stay here. Forgive the impoliteness.’ ‘I didn’t want to stay,’ said K., ‘I simply wanted a little rest. Now that I have had it, I am leaving.’ ‘This lack of hospitality may surprise you,’ said the man, ‘but there is no custom of hospitality here, we do not need guests.’” This is what Kafka writes at the outset of The Castle, a labyrinthine description of K.’s futile and hopeless attempts, as pointed out by Max Brod, “to acquire proper relations with the village and the castle.” “... There is no custom of hospitality here, we do not need guests”: following this double negation the uncanny scene of being foreign expands ad nauseam. The uninvited guest has to face unfamiliar edifices, inexplicable customs, unknown and undecipherable habits, he encounters enigmatic people and is confronted with names indicating not legible, interpretable relations but utterly unknown strangers. In turn, the locals are juxtaposed with a foreigner, one who does not comprehend, acts in an odd manner and disrupts familiar comforts, the usual order of things. “You’re not from the castle, you’re not from the village, you are nothing. Unfortunately, though, you are something, a stranger, one who is superfluous and gets in the way everywhere, one who is a constant source of trouble ... a man whose intentions are utterly unknown here” (48). Even K.’s love affair with a maid and his very effort to gain protection of at least one of the residents produce only failure, mistrust, malevolence and reveal nothing but the futility of his painful attempts, if he cannot become a “friend,” to at least become a “fellow citizen,” not to accept “charity” from the castle but insist on his due “rights” (24, 74). But what can a stranger expect from village and castle, what can he demand and which rights are accorded to him? The uninvited guest, interrogated immediately upon arrival about the reasons, goals and intentions of his presence, becomes subject to mysterious decisions, inexplicable and implausible rules and regulations. K. is but a foreigner whose fate is sealed between the folders of records, the covers of files, and has no access to the offices and bureaucratic processes, this “ridiculous tangle” which nevertheless decides upon his existence, a tangle about which he, as he is instantly accused, speaks “in the manner of a stranger,” miscomprehending everything “even the silence.” K. is but an annoying foreigner who even believes to know it all better than the “natives” and “everyone here” and that it is possible to once “accomplish something that