Franz Kafka's Before The Law

Franz Kafka’s parable Before The Law was first published as a short story in 1915 and the republished in his novel The Trial that was published after his death. 

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:14

It's story time with Mitch Jesserich. Today, a parable by Franz Kafka. Before 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 he'll 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 stands 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 other gatekeepers, and this first one seems to be 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, and 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 yet to 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 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 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 the entry was assigned only to you. I'm going to now close it. Until next time, be well.