Amerika

by Franz Kafka

  (2)

  On a street corner, Karl saw a poster with the following announcement: ‘At the racecourse in Clayton, today from 6 a.m. till midnight, personnel is being hired for the Theatre in Oklahoma! The great Theatre of Oklahoma is calling you! It’s calling you today only! If you miss this opportunity, there will never be another! Anyone thinking of his future, your place is with us! All welcome! Anyone who wants to be an artist, step forward! We are the theatre that has a place for everyone, everyone in his place! If you decide to join us, we congratulate you here and now! But hurry, be sure not to miss the midnight deadline! We shut down at midnight, never to reopen! Accursed be anyone who doesn’t believe us! Clayton here we come!’

  There were a lot of people standing in front of the poster, but it didn’t seem to excite much enthusiasm. There were so many posters, no one believed posters any more. And this poster was still more incredible than posters usually are. Above all, it had one great drawback, there wasn’t a single word in it about payment. If it had been at all worth mentioning, then surely the poster would have mentioned it; it wouldn’t have left out the most alluring thing of all. No one wanted to be an artist, but everyone wanted to be paid for his work.

  But for Karl there was a great lure in the poster. ‘All welcome’ it said. All, even Karl. Everything he had done up until now would be forgotten, no one would hold it against him. He could turn up for work that was not a disgrace, something for which people were openly invited to apply! And just as open was the promise that he would be taken on as well. He could ask for nothing better, he wanted to begin a proper career at last, and perhaps this was the way. Maybe all the grandiloquence of the poster was just a trick, maybe the great Theatre of Oklahoma was just a little touring circus, but it was taking people on, and that was enough. Karl didn’t read the poster through again, he just looked out the sentence ‘All welcome’ once more.

  At first he thought of going to Clayton on foot, but that would have meant a three-hour slog, and he might arrive just in time to hear that all the places had been filled. Admittedly, according to the poster, there was an unlimited number of vacancies to be filled, but vacant position ads always put it like that. Karl realized that he would either have to decide against it on the spot, or take public transport. He counted up his money, without the trip it was enough for eight days, he pushed the little coins around on the palm of his hand. A gentleman who had been watching him patted him on the back and said: ‘All the best for the ride to Clayton.’ Karl nodded silently, and went on calculating. But he decided soon enough, took out the money for the ride, and went to the subway.

  When he got out in Clayton, the sound of many trumpets greeted his ears. It was a confused noise, the trumpets weren’t playing in tune, there was just wild playing. But that didn’t bother Karl, rather it confirmed to him what a great enterprise the Theatre of Oklahoma was. But when he left the station and saw the whole racecourse ahead of him, he saw that everything was much bigger than he could possibly have imagined, and he couldn’t understand how an organization could go to such lengths merely for the recruitment of personnel. Outside the entrance to the racecourse was a long low stage, on which a hundred women dressed as angels in white cloths, with great wings on their backs were blowing into golden trumpets. They weren’t standing directly on the stage though, each of them stood on an individual pedestal that couldn’t be seen, because the long billowing robes of the angel costumes completely covered them. As the pedestals were very high, as much as six feet, the figures of the women looked gigantic, only their little heads looked somewhat out of scale, and their hair, which they wore loose, looked too short and almost laughable, hanging between the big wings and down the side of them. To avoid uniformity, pedestals of all different sizes had been used, there were some quite low women, not much above life size, but others next to them seemed to scale such heights that they were surely in danger from every breath of wind. And now all these women were blowing trumpets.

  There weren’t many listeners. Small by comparison to their great forms, about a dozen or so youths walked up and down in front of the stage, looking up at the women. They pointed at this one or that one, but didn’t seem to have any intention of joining up or going inside. Only one slightly older man was to be seen, he stood a little to one side. He had brought along his wife and a baby in a pram. The woman held the pram with one hand, with the other she supported herself on the man’s shoulder. They admired the performance, but you could see they were disappointed too. They were probably expecting to find a work opportunity, and were confused by the trumpeting.

  It was the same with Karl. He went over to the man, listened to the trumpets a while and said: ‘Is this not the reception point for the Theatre of Oklahoma?’ ‘I thought so too,’ said the man, ‘but we’ve been waiting here for an hour, and have heard nothing but trumpets. There’s not a poster anywhere, no announcers, no one to get any information from.’ Karl said: ‘Perhaps they’re waiting for more people to come. There really aren’t very many here yet.’ ‘Could be,’ said the man, and they were both silent again. It was difficult to conduct a conversation with all the noise of the trumpets. But then the woman whispered something to her husband, he nodded, and she promptly called out to Karl: ‘Couldn’t you go across to the racecourse and ask where the reception takes place?’ ‘Yes,’ said Karl, ‘but that would mean walking right across the stage, through the angels.’ ‘Is that so difficult?’ asked the woman. She thought it was a simple matter for Karl, but was reluctant to let her husband go. ‘Well, all right,’ said Karl, ‘I’ll go.’ ‘That’s very good of you,’ said the woman, and she and her husband shook Karl’s hand. The youths clustered together to watch Karl climbing on to the stage. It felt as though the women blew louder, to welcome the first job applicant. And yet the ones whose pedestals Karl passed on his way actually took their trumpets from their lips, and leaned over to watch him. At the far end of the stage, Karl saw a man walking restlessly back and forth, obviously just waiting for people, to give them all the information they could possibly wish for. Karl was on the point of going over to him, when above him, he heard the sound of his name: ‘Karl,’ called one of the angels. Karl looked up, and was so pleasantly surprised he started to laugh: it was Fanny. ‘Fanny,’ he cried, and waved up at her. ‘Come here!’ called Fanny. ‘Don’t just walk past me.’ And she parted her robes, revealing her pedestal and a narrow flight of steps leading up it. ‘Am I allowed to go up?’ asked Karl. ‘Who’s going to tell me we can’t shake hands with each other,’ cried Fanny, and looked around wrathfully, as if in fact someone with just such a message was coming. Karl ran up the stairs. ‘Not so fast!’ cried Fanny. ‘The pedestal and the pair of us will fall over.’ But they didn’t, Karl successfully reached the last step. ‘Look,’ said Fanny, after they’d greeted one another, ‘see what a good job I’ve got.’ ‘It’s very nice,’ said Karl, looking round. All the women nearby had noticed Karl, and were giggling. ‘You’re almost the tallest of them,’ said Karl, and put out a hand to measure the height of the others. ‘I saw you right away,’ said Fanny, ‘as soon as you came out of the station, but unfortunately I’m in the back row, so you couldn’t see me, and I wasn’t able to call you either. I did try and blow especially loud, but you didn’t spot me.’ ‘You do all play very badly,’ said Karl. ‘Let me have a go.’ ‘Sure,’ said Fanny, and gave him the trumpet, ‘but don’t spoil the chorus, or I’ll lose my job.’ Karl began to play, he had imagined it would be a crude version of a trumpet, really just for making a noise, but it turned out to be an instrument that was capable of almost infinite expression. If all the instruments were like that one, then they were being seriously misused. Undisturbed by the noise of the others all around, Karl played a tune he had heard once in a bar somewhere at the top of his lungs. He was glad to have run into an old friend, to be privileged to play the trumpet in front of everyone, and to be on the verge, possibly, of getting a good job. A lot of the women stopped playing and listened: when he s
uddenly stopped, barely half the trumpets were in use, and it took a while for the previous volume to return. ‘You’re an artist,’ said Fanny, as Karl handed the trumpet back to her. ‘You should get a job as a trumpeter.’ ‘Do they take men too?’ asked Karl. ‘Yes,’ said Fanny, ‘we play for two hours. Then we are relieved by the men, who are dressed as devils. Half of them are trumpeters, the other half drummers. It’s very nice, just as the whole design is very beautiful. Don’t you like our costumes? What about the wings?’ She looked down her body. ‘Do you think,’ asked Karl, ‘I’ll manage to get a job here too?’ ‘Definitely,’ said Fanny, ‘it’s the greatest theatre in the world. How lucky that we’re going to be together again. Although that depends on what sort of job you get too. Because it’s quite possible that even if we both have jobs here, we might never see each other.’ ‘Is the whole thing really that big?’ Karl asked. ‘It’s the greatest theatre in the world,’ Fanny said again, ‘I have to admit I haven’t seen it myself yet, but some of my colleagues who have been to Oklahoma, say it’s almost boundless.’ ‘There aren’t many people applying,’ said Karl, pointing down at the youths and the little family. ‘That’s true,’ said Fanny. ‘But bear in mind that we recruit in every major city, that our publicity team is continually on the move, and that we are only one of many such teams.’ ‘Has the theatre not opened yet?’ asked Karl. ‘Oh yes,’ said Fanny, ‘it’s an old theatre, but it’s being extended all the time.’ ‘It surprises me,’ Karl said, ‘that there aren’t more people coming in.’ ‘Yes,’ said Fanny, ‘it is strange.’ ‘Could it be,’ said Karl, ‘that the lavish displays with angels and devils put off more people than they attract?’ ‘Hard to say,’ said Fanny. ‘But it’s a possibility. You should tell our leader about it, perhaps you can help him by doing that.’ ‘Where is he?’ asked Karl. ‘In the racecourse,’ said Fanny, ‘in the stewards’ box.’ ‘That’s another thing,’ said Karl, ‘why is the recruiting taking place at a racecourse?’ ‘Well,’ said Fanny, ‘wherever we go, we make the biggest preparations for the biggest demand. There’s so much space in a racecourse. We put our processing offices in the little booths where they usually take bets. There are said to be more than two hundred of them.’ ‘But,’ Karl exclaimed, ‘does the Theatre of Oklahoma have sufficient income to pay for such publicity teams?’ ‘What’s it to us,’ said Fanny. ‘But now, Karl, you’d better go, in case you miss out, and I need to start playing again. Try in any case to get a job on our team, and come back and tell me. Remember I’ll be on tenterhooks.’ She pressed his hand, told him to be careful going down the steps, put the trumpet to her lips again, but didn’t start blowing until she saw that Karl was safely back on the ground. Karl arranged her robes round the steps as they had been before, Fanny thanked him with a nod of her head, and Karl went, pondering all that he had heard in various ways, up to the man who had already seen Karl up with Fanny, and had approached the pedestal to meet him.

  ‘Do you want to join us?’ asked the man. ‘I’m the team’s head of personnel, and would like to welcome you.’ He stood leaning forward slightly, perhaps out of politeness, swaying on the spot, and playing with his watch chain. ‘Thank you,’ said Karl. ‘I read your company’s poster, and have reported here as asked.’ ‘Quite right,’ said the man, approvingly, ‘unfortunately not everyone behaves as correctly as you do.’ Karl wondered if this might be the moment to let the man know that the inducements of the publicity team, by their very magnificence, might be counter-productive. But he didn’t say anything, because this man wasn’t the head of the team, and besides it wouldn’t have made a good impression if, before he had even been taken on, he started suggesting what improvements might be made. And so he merely said: ‘There’s someone else waiting outside, who wants to report as well and sent me on ahead. Can I go back and get him?’ ‘Of course,’ said the man, ‘the more people the better.’ ‘He has his wife with him, and a baby in a pram. Should they come too?’ ‘Of course,’ said the man, who seemed to be amused by Karl’s doubts. ‘We can use everyone.’ ‘I’ll be back right away,’ said Karl, and ran to the edge of the stage. He waved to the couple and called out that they could all come. He helped lift the pram on to the stage, and they went on together as a group. The youths, seeing that, held a discussion, then, hesitating until the very last moment, they slowly climbed the steps, hands in pockets, and finally followed Karl and the family. Just then more passengers emerged from the underground station, and seeing the stage with the angels, threw up their arms in amazement. It did appear as though the rate of job applications might pick up somewhat. Karl was very glad to have come so early, perhaps the first of all, the couple were anxious and asked various questions about what would be expected of them. Karl said he knew nothing definite as yet, but he had really received the impression that everyone without exception would be taken. He thought one could have confidence.

  The head of personnel came to meet them, he was very pleased so many people were coming, he rubbed his hands, greeted everyone individually with a little bow, and put them all in a line. Karl was first, then the couple, and only then everyone else. When they had all lined up, the youths at first barged and shoved each other, and it took a while for them to settle down, then the head of personnel said, as the trumpeters ceased: ‘On behalf of the Theatre of Oklahoma, I’d like to welcome you. You’ve come early’ – actually, it was almost noon – ‘the crush isn’t yet great, and so the formalities of your recruitment will soon be concluded. I trust you all have your legitimation papers on you.’ The youths straightaway pulled some old papers out of their pockets and waved them at the head of personnel, the husband nudged his wife, who pulled a whole bundle of papers from underneath the baby’s coverlet in the pram, only Karl had none. Would that get in the way of his recruitment? It was quite possible. But Karl knew from past experience that, with a little determination, such regulations could be circumvented. The head of personnel looked down the line, to check that everyone had their papers, and as Karl had raised his hand as well, even though it was an empty hand, he took it that he too was provided for. ‘That’s fine,’ said the head of personnel, and waved the youths away, as they pressed to have their papers inspected immediately, ‘the papers will be examined in the reception suites. As you’ve already seen from our posters, we can use everyone. But of course we need to know what an applicant’s previous occupation was, so that we can put him somewhere where his experience will be of use to us.’ But it’s a theatre, Karl thought dubiously, and listened very closely. ‘Therefore,’ continued the head of personnel, ‘we have set up reception suites in the bookmakers’ booths, one office for each type of profession. So I want you all to tell me your previous occupations, families generally go to the office of the man, then I will lead you to your respective offices, where first your papers and then your qualifications will be tested by experts in the field – just a very short test, nothing to be afraid of. Then you’ll be taken on, and will receive further instructions from there. All right, let’s begin. The first office, as the sign will tell you, is for engineers. Do there happen to be any engineers among you?’ Karl stepped forward. It seemed to him, precisely because he had no papers, that he should aim to get through all the formalities as quickly as possible, and he did have a certain justification for stepping forward too, as he had wanted to become an engineer. But when the youths saw him step forward, they became envious, and stepped forward too, every one of them. The head of personnel drew himself up to his full height and said to the youths: ‘You’re all engineers?’ Then they all slowly put their hands down again, while Karl stood his ground. The head of personnel looked at him with some incredulity, because Karl seemed to him both too badly dressed and too young to be an engineer, but he made no comment, perhaps out of gratitude, because Karl, or so it must have seemed to him anyway, had brought along all these applicants. He merely pointed courteously to the office in question, and Karl went there while the head of personnel turned to the others.

  In the
office for engineers were two men seated at two sides of a right-angled desk, comparing two large inventories they had lying in front of them. One of them read from a list of names, the other ticked them off in his inventory. When Karl stepped in front of them and said hello, they immediately put aside their inventories, and both took out large ledgers, which they clapped open. One of them, obviously just a secretary, said: ‘May I see your legitimation papers.’ ‘I’m afraid I don’t have them with me,’ said Karl. ‘Doesn’t have them,’ said the secretary to the other man, and made a note of it in his ledger. ‘Are you an engineer?’ inquired the other, who seemed to be the head of the office. ‘Not as such,’ said Karl quickly, ‘but –’ ‘All right,’ said the gentleman, even more quickly, ‘then you’ve come to the wrong place. I’d ask you to pay attention to the sign.’ Karl gritted his teeth, the gentleman must have noticed it, because he said: ‘No cause for disquiet. We can use everyone.’ And he beckoned to one of the servants who were going around unoccupied between the barriers: ‘Would you lead this gentleman to the office for people with technical qualifications.’ The servant took the command literally, and took Karl by the hand. They went between many booths, in one of which Karl saw one of the lads, already taken on, thanking the gentleman there with a handshake. In the office where Karl was brought, as he had anticipated, the same thing happened. Only from here, having heard that he’d been to a secondary school, he was taken to the office for former secondary schoolboys. But then, when Karl said he’d been to a secondary school in Europe, they declared this wasn’t the right place either, and had him brought to the office for people who had attended secondary school in Europe. This was a booth on the very periphery, not merely smaller than all the others, but lower too. The servant who brought him there was livid about his long errand, and the many referrals, for which in his opinion Karl bore sole responsibility. He wouldn’t wait for any questions here, but dashed off at once. This office seemed to be the end of the line anyway. When Karl saw the head of the office, he was alarmed by his close resemblance to one of his former teachers, who was probably still teaching at the secondary school back home. The resemblance, however, on closer inspection, turned out to be a matter of details only, but the spectacles perched on the broad nose, the beautifully trimmed blond beard, the gentle curve of the back, and the surprisingly loud voice all kept Karl in amazement for a while yet. Luckily, he didn’t have to pay much attention, because the procedure here was much simpler than in the other offices. Here too, however, they noted that his legitimation papers were missing, and the head of the office referred to it as extraordinarily negligent of him, but the secretary, who had the whip hand here, glossed over it, and after a few short questions from the head, and while he was just gathering himself for a major question, he declared that Karl had been taken on. The head of the office turned to the secretary open-mouthed, but he merely made a dismissive gesture, said: ‘Hired,’ and immediately entered the decision in his ledger. Evidently the secretary was of the opinion that coming from a secondary school in Europe was something so lowly that anyone claiming to fall in that category could be taken at his word. Karl for his part was nothing loath, and went up to him to thank him. But there was one further delay, when he was asked for his name. He didn’t reply right away, he was reluctant to give his real name and have that entered. If he got the smallest job, and was able to perform that satisfactorily, then he would happily divulge his name, but not now, he had kept it secret for too long to betray it now. Therefore, as nothing else came to mind just then, he gave what had been his nickname on his last jobs: ‘Negro.’ ‘Negro?’ asked the boss, turning his head and pulling a face, as though Karl had now reached the height of preposterousness. The secretary too looked at Karl a while, but then he repeated ‘Negro’ and wrote it down. ‘You didn’t write down Negro, did you,’ the boss shouted at him. ‘Yes, Negro,’ said the secretary placidly, and gestured to the boss to conclude the formalities. The boss restrained himself, stood up and said: ‘I hereby proclaim that the Theatre of Oklahoma –’ But he got no further, he couldn’t violate his conscience, sat down, and said: ‘His name is not Negro.’ The secretary raised his eyebrows, got up in turn, and said: ‘I inform you that you have been hired by the Theatre of Oklahoma, and that you will now be presented to our leader.’ A servant was sent for, and Karl was escorted to the stewards’ stand.