The Castle

become necessary in the village and as Klamm’s deputy receives any petitions to Klamm which may be sent by the village.” As, still quite unimpressed by these facts, K. looked at the landlady with vacant eyes, she added in a half-embarrassed tone: “That’s how it’s arranged; all the gentlemen in the Castle have their village secretaries.” Momus, who had been listening far more attentively than K., supplied the landlady with a supplementary fact: “Most of the village secretaries work only for one gentleman, but I work for two, for Klamm and for Vallabene.” “Yes,” went on the landlady, remembering now on her side too, and turning to K.: “Herr Momus works for two gentlemen, for Klamm and for Vallabene, and so is twice a village secretary.” “Actually twice,” said K. nodding to Momus⁠—who now, leaning slightly forward, looked him full in the face⁠—as one nods to a child whom one has just heard being praised. If there was a certain contempt in the gesture, then it was either unobserved or else actually expected. Precisely to K., it seemed, who was not considered worthy even to be seen in passing by Klamm, these people had described in detail the services of a man out of Klamm’s circle with the unconcealed intention of evoking K.’s recognition and admiration. And yet K. had no proper appreciation of it; he, who with all his powers strove to get a glimpse of Klamm, valued very little, for example, the post of a Momus who was permitted to live in Klamm’s eye; for it was not Klamm’s environment in itself that seemed to him worth striving for, but rather that he, K., he only and no one else, should attain to Klamm, and should attain to him not to rest with him, but to go on beyond him, farther yet, into the Castle.

And he looked at his watch and said: “But now I must be going home.” Immediately the position changed in Momus’ favour. “Yes, of course,” the latter replied, “the school work calls. But you must favour me with just a moment of your time. Only a few short questions.” “I don’t feel in the mood for it,” said K. and turned towards the door. Momus brought down a document on the table and stood up; “In the name of Klamm I command you to answer my questions.” “In the name of Klamm!” repeated K., “does he trouble himself about my affairs then?” “As to that,” replied Momus, “I have no information and you certainly have still less; we can safely leave that to him. All the same I command you by virtue of my function granted by Klamm to stay here and to answer.” “Land Surveyor,” broke in the landlady, “I refuse to advise you any further, my advice till now, the most well-meaning that you could have got, has been cast back at me in the most unheard of manner; and I have come here to Herr Momus⁠—I have nothing to hide⁠—simply to give the office an adequate idea of your behaviour and your intentions and to protect myself for all time from having you quartered on me again; that’s how we stand towards each other and that’s how we’ll always stand, and if I speak my mind accordingly now, I don’t do it, I can tell you, to help you, but to ease a little the hard job which Herr Momus is bound to have in dealing with a man like you. All the same, just because of my absolute frankness⁠—and I couldn’t deal otherwise than frankly with you even if I were to try⁠—you can extract some advantage for yourself out of what I say, if you only take the trouble. In the present case I want to draw your attention to this, that the only road that can lead you to Klamm is through this protocol here of Herr Momus. But I don’t want to exaggerate, perhaps that road won’t get you as far as Klamm, perhaps it will stop long before it reaches him; the judgment of Herr Momus will decide that. But in any case that’s the only road that will take you in the direction of Klamm. And do you intend to reject that road, for nothing but pride?” “Oh, madam,” said K., “that’s neither the only road to Klamm, nor is it any better than the others. But you, Mr. Secretary, decide this question, whether what I may say here can get as far as Klamm or not.” “Of course it can,” said Momus, lowering his eyes proudly and gazing at nothing, “otherwise why should I be secretary here?” “Now you see, madam,” said K., “I don’t need a road to Klamm, but only to Mr. Secretary.” “I wanted to throw open this road for you,” said the landlady, “didn’t I offer this morning to send your request to Klamm? That might have been done through Herr Momus. But you refused, and yet from now on no other way will remain for you but this one. But frankly, after your attempt on Klamm’s privacy, with much less prospect of success. All the same this last, tiny, vanishing, yes, actually invisible hope, is your only one.” “How is it, madam,” said K., “that originally you tried so hard to keep me from seeing Klamm, and yet now take my wish to see him quite seriously, and seem to consider me lost largely on account of the miscarrying of my plan? If at one time you can advise me sincerely from your heart against trying to see Klamm at all, how can you possibly drive me on the road to Klamm now, apparently just as sincerely, even though it’s admitted that the road may not reach as far as him?” “Am I driving you on?” asked the landlady. “Do you call it driving you on when I tell you that your attempt is hopeless? It