城堡

前言

　　前言　　余華　　卡夫卡和K　　《城堡》中的土地測量員K在厚厚的積雪中走來，皚皚白雪又覆蓋了他的腳印，是否暗示了這是一次沒有回去的走來?因為K仿佛是走進了沒有謎底的命運之謎。賀拉斯說：“無論風暴將我?guī)У绞裁疵窗哆叄叶紝⒁灾魅说纳矸萆习丁?rdquo;卡夫卡接著說：“無論我轉(zhuǎn)向何方，總有黑浪迎面打來。”彌漫在西方文學傳統(tǒng)里的失落和失敗的情緒感染著漫長的歲月，多少年過去了，風暴又將K帶到了這里，K獲得了上岸的權利，可是他無法獲得主人的身份。　　在有關卡夫卡作品的論說和詮釋里，有一個聲音格外響亮，那就是誰是卡夫卡的先驅(qū)?對卡夫卡的榜樣的尋找凝聚了幾代人的不懈努力，瓦爾特·本雅明尋找了一個俄國候爵波將金的故事，博爾赫斯尋找了芝諾的否定運動的悖論。人們樂此不疲的理由是什么?似乎沒有一個作家會像卡夫卡那樣令人疑惑，我的意思是說：在卡夫卡這里人們無法獲得其他作家所共有的品質(zhì)，就是無法找到文學里清晰可見的繼承關系。當《城堡》中的弗麗達意識到K其　　實像一個孩子一樣坦率時，可是仍然很難相信他的話，因為——弗麗達的理由是“你的個性跟我們截然不同”。瓦爾特·本雅明和博爾赫斯也對卡夫卡說出了類似的話?！　⊥瑫r，這也是文學要對卡夫卡說的話。顯然，卡夫卡沒有誕生在文學生生不息的長河之中，他的出現(xiàn)不是因為后面的波浪在推動，他像一個岸邊的行走者逆水而來。很多跡象都在表明，卡夫卡是從外面走進了我們的文學。于是他的身份就像是《城堡》里K的身份那樣尷尬，他們都是唐突的外來者。K是不是一個土地測量員?《城堡》的讀者會發(fā)出這樣的疑問。同樣的疑問也在卡夫卡生前出現(xiàn)，這個形象瘦削到使人感到尖銳的猶太人究竟是誰?他的作品是那樣的陌生，他在表達希望和絕望、歡樂和痛苦、愛和恨的時候都是同樣的令人感到陌生。這樣的疑惑在卡夫卡死后仍然經(jīng)久不息，波將金和芝諾的例子表明：人們已經(jīng)開始到文學之外去尋　　找卡夫卡作品的來源?！　∵@是明智的選擇。只要讀一讀卡夫卡的日記，就不難發(fā)現(xiàn)生活中的卡夫卡，其實就是《城堡》中的K。他在1913年8月15日的日記中，用堅定的語氣寫道：“我將不顧一切地與所有人隔絕，與所有人敵對，不同任何人講話。”在六天以后的日記里，他這樣寫：“現(xiàn)在我在我的家庭里，在那些最好的、最親愛的人們中間，比一個陌生人還要陌生。近年來我和我的母親平均每天說不上二十句話，和我的父親除了有時彼此寒暄幾句幾乎就沒有更多的話可說。和我已婚的妹妹和妹夫們除了跟他們生氣我壓根兒就不說話。”　　人們也許以為寫下這樣日記的人正在經(jīng)歷著可怕的孤獨，不過讀完下面的兩則日記后，可能會改變想法。他在1910年11月2日的日記中寫道：“今天早晨許久以來第一次嘗到了想象一把刀在我心中轉(zhuǎn)動的快樂。”另一則是兩年以后，他再一次在日記中提到了刀子。“不停地想象著一把寬闊的熏肉切刀，它極迅速地以機械的均勻從一邊切入我體內(nèi)，切出很薄的片，它們在迅速的切削動作中幾乎呈卷狀一片片飛出去。”

內(nèi)容概要

　　《二十世紀外國文學精選：城堡》中的土地測量員K在厚厚的積雪中走來，皚皚白雪又覆蓋了他有腳印，是否諳示了這是一次沒有回去的走來？因為K仿佛是走進了沒有謎底的命運之謎。賀拉斯說：“無論我暴將我?guī)У绞裁窗哆?，我都將以主人的身份上岸?rdquo;卡夫卡接著說：“無論我轉(zhuǎn)向何方，總有黑浪迎面打來。”彌漫在西方文學傳統(tǒng)里的失落和失敗的情緒感染著漫長的歲月，多少年過去了，風暴又將K帶到了這里，K獲得上岸的權利，可是他無法獲得主人的身份。

作者簡介

　　弗朗茨·卡夫卡，1883年生于布拉格一個猶太商人家庭。1901年入該城德語大學，1906年獲法學博士學位。主要作品有《美國》（Amerika），《審判》（The Trial），《城堡》（The Castle）但均未完成，卡夫卡1924年因肺病死于維也納附近的聞養(yǎng)院。

書籍目錄

Ⅰ.ArrivalⅡ.BarnabasⅢ.FriedaⅣ.First Conversation with the LandladyⅤ.At the ChairmansⅥ.Second Conversation with the LandladyⅦ.The TeacherⅧ.Waiting for KlammⅨ.The Struggle Against the InterrogationⅩ.On the StreetⅪ.In the SchoolhouseⅫ.The AssistantsⅩⅢ.HansⅩⅣ.Friedas ReproachⅩⅤ.At AmaliasⅩⅥⅩⅦ.Amalias SecretⅩⅧ.Amalias PunishmentⅩⅨ.PetitioningⅩⅩ.Olga s PlansⅩⅩⅠⅩⅩⅡⅩⅩⅢⅩⅩⅣⅩⅩⅤAppendixAfterword to the German Critical Edition by Malcolm PasleyChronologyBibliography

章節(jié)摘錄

A  large dimly lit room. At first, the new arrival from outdoors  could not see a thing. K. stumbled against a washtub, a womans hand held him back. From one corner came the sound of children crying. From another, smoke billowed, turning the dim light to darkness, K. remained standing there as if in the clouds. "Hemust be drunk,"someone said. "Who are you?" cried an imperi ous voice, and then, probably to the old man: "Why did you let him in? "Can we let in everything that is slinking through the streets?" "I am the land surveyor of the Count," said K., trying to justify himself in front of these as yet invisible people. "Ah, itis the land surveyor," a womans voice said, and then there was complete silence. "You know me?" asked K. "Of course," the same voice said, curtly. Their knowing K. did not seem to rec ommend him.He tightened his grip, Barnabas almost dragged him, the si lence was not broken; of this particular route K. could say only that judging by the state of the road they had not yet turned off into a side street. He vowed not to let any difficulties along the way or worries about the way back keep him from going on, for after all he surely had sufficient strength for being dragged along.And could this path be endless? All day the Castle had lain before him like an easy goal, and this messenger certainly knew the shortest way.Just then Barnabas stopped. Where were they? Couldnt they go on? Would Barnabas send K. on his way? He wouldnt suc ceed. K. gripped Bamabass arm so tightly that he almost hurt himself. Or might the incredible have happened and they were al ready in the Castle or at its gates? Yet, so far as K. knew, they still hadnt gone uphill. Or had Barnabas led him along such an im perceptibly rising path? "Where are we?" K. asked quietly, more to himself than to Barnabas. "Home," said Barnabas in the same tone. "Home?" "Now take care, sir, that you dont slip. The path goes downhill." "Downhill?" "Only another step or two," headded, and he was already knocking on a door.It was late evening when K. arrived. The village lay under deep snow. There was no sign of the Castle hill, fog and darkness surrounded it, not even the faintest gleam of light suggested the large Castle. K. stood a long time on the wooden bridge that leads from the main road to the village, gazing upward into theseeming emptiness.Then he went looking for a nights lodging; at the inn they were still awake; the landlord had no room available, but, extremely surprised and confused by the latecomer, he was willing to let K. sleep on a straw mattress in the taproom, K. agreed to this. A few peasants were still sitting over beer, but he did not want to talk to anyone, got himself a straw mattress from the attic and lay down by the stove. It was warm, the peasants werequiet, he examined them for a moment with tired eyes, then fell asleep.Yet before long he was awakened. A young man in city clothes, with an actors face, narrow eyes, thick eyebrows, stood beside him with the landlord. The peasants, too, were still there, a few had turned their chairs around to see and hear better. The young man apologized very politely for having awakened K., in-troduced himself as the son of the Castle steward and said: "This village is Castle property, anybody residing or spending the night here is effectively residing or spending the night at the Castle. Nobody may do so without permission from the Count. But you have no such permission or at least you havent shown it yet."K., who had half-risen and smoothed his hair, looked at the people from below and said: "What village have I wandered into? So there is a castle here?""Why, of course," the young man said slowly, while several peasants here and there shook their heads at K., "the Castle of Count Westwest.""And one needs permission to spend the night here?" asked K., as though he wanted to persuade himself that he hadnt perhaps heard the previous statements in a dream.He would have liked to have a confidential conversation with Frieda, but the assistants, with whom Frieda even joked and laughed every now and then, prevented this through their intrusive presence. Otherwise they werent demanding, they had settied down in a corner of the floor on two old skirts; their goal, which they often discussed with Frieda, was to avoid disturbing the surveyor and to take up as little room as possible, they made various attempts to bring that about, always to the accompaniment of whispers and giggles, by drawing in their arms and legsand huddling together, all one could see in their comer in the twilight was a large knot. Still, certain experiences in broad daylight had, alas, made it clear that they were attentive observers,they were constantly staring over at K., playing seemingly childish games, using their hands as telescopes and resorting to other such antics, or simply blinking at him while appearing to be engaged chiefly in tending their beards, which they set great store on and compared on countless occasions for length and thickness, letting Frieda be the judge. From his bed K. often watched the antics of the three of them with utter indifference.Now when he felt strong enough to get up out of bed, they all rushed over to serve him. Yet he still wasnt strong enough to resist their offers, he saw that in this way he was becoming somewhat dependent on them, which could have negative consequences, but he simply had to let it happen. Besides, it wasnt so terribly unpleasant, sitting at the table drinking the good coffee Frieda had brought, warming himself at the stove Frieda had stoked, having the assistants run up and down the stairs ten times in their clumsy eagerness to bring him soap, water, a comb, a mirror, and finally, since K. had softly uttered a wish that could be interpreted that way, a little glass of rum.At first K. was glad to have escaped the crush of maids and assistants in that warm room. Besides, it was almost freezing, the snow was firmer, the walking easier. Only it was getting darker,and he hastened his step.The Castle, whose contours were already beginning to dissolve, lay still as ever, K. had never seen the slightest sign of life up there, perhaps it wasnt even possible to distinguish anything from this distance, and yet his eyes demanded it and refused to tolerate the stillness. When K. looked at the Castle, it was at times as if he were watching someone who sat there calmly, gazing into space, not lost in thought and therefore cut off from everything, but free and untroubled; as if he were alone, unobserved; and yet it could not have escaped him that someone was observing him, but this didnt disturb his composure and in- deed——one could not tell whether through cause or effect—the observers gaze could not remain fixed there, and slid off. Today this impression was further reinforced by the early darkness, the longer he looked, the less he could make out, and the deeper everything sank into the twilight.……

編輯推薦

　　卡夫卡是二十世紀最偉大的作家之一。他以自己獨辟蹊徑的創(chuàng)作廣泛地影響了當代各國文學，在二十世紀世界文學史上留下了不朽的一頁。他當之無愧地被尊稱為現(xiàn)代派文學的鼻祖?！抖兰o外國文學精選：城堡》是卡夫卡三部未竟長篇之一，篇幅最大，也最富有卡夫卡特色，被公認為他最重要的一部作品。布洛德甚至稱《二十世紀外國文學精選：城堡》是“卡夫卡的浮士德”。

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