Josef's K dream (trans. Katarina Pejovic)

Franz Kafka:
A Dream (Ein Traum, 1914)

Josef K. had dreamed:

It was a beautiful day and K wanted to take a walk. But soon after he made a few steps, he found himself at a graveyard. The paths there were unnaturally and impractically winding; yet holding himself steady as if floating, he was simply gliding across one of those paths, as if carried by raging water. He noticed already from afar a freshly made grave and he felt like stopping by it. That grave had an almost seducing effect on him and he thought that he would not reach it fast enough. There were moments he could not see it because the flags were hiding it, waving cloths violently clashing against one another; the flagmen could not be seen but it appeared as if there was a big celebration over there.

With his gaze still transfixed into the distance, he suddenly noticed that same grave next to him, beyond the path, almost passing it already. He hurriedly jumped onto the grass. As the path was still running during his jump, he rolled over and fell right next to the grave, on his knees. Behind the grave there were two men who held in the air between them a tombstone. The moment K. appeared, they pressed the tombstone into the soil; it remained as if rooted in there. At that instant, a third man appeared who made K. immediately presume that he was an artist. He wore just trousers and a clumsily buttoned-up shirt, a velvet hat on his head, holding a plain pencil and drawing figures in the air with it as he was approaching.

He then moved the pencil towards the upper part of the tombstone. It was so high that he needed not lowering himself; yet he had to bend forward because the grave stood between him and the tombstone and he didn’t want to climb it. He was therefore tiptoeing, leaning with his left hand on the tombstone’s surface. By some exceptionally masterful skill, he was managing to write golden letters with the plain pencil. He wrote, “Here lies…” Each letter appeared beautiful and straight, deeply engraved and made out of solid gold. As he wrote those two words, he turned back and looked towards K. Craving for the continuation of the inscription, K. barely glanced at him, and went on staring at the tombstone. And indeed, the man went on with writing; yet he could not, as if there was some obstacle. So he put the pencil down and turned again towards K. Now it was K. who also looked back at the artist and observed that he was rather perplexed although he could not tell what might be the reason for it. All his previous vivacity had gone. Hence K. started feeling uneasy. They were exchanging helpless movements; a heavy misunderstanding had occurred that none of them seemed able to resolve. To make things worse, the small graveyard chimes started ringing, but the artist waved with one hand and they went silent. A moment later they resumed but this time very quietly and ceased again without warning: it appeared as if they wanted to rehearse their sound.

K. felt inconsolable because of the situation the artist found himself in; so he began to cry and he sobbed for a long time with his face buried in his hands. The artist waited for K. to calm down and then, seeing no other solution, he resumed with his writing. The first thin line he had made was salvation to K. But the artist made it with strong inner resistance: the inscription wasn’t as beautiful as before, as if there lacked gold in the first place. The line unfolded pale and shaky; the only good thing was that the letter was big. It was a J and it was almost finished when the artist stomped so furiously with his foot on the grave that the soil scattered around. K. had finally understood him: there was no time to beg him so he buried his fingers in the soil that unconditionally surrendered to him, as if everything had already been prepared and a thin layer of soil had been spread over merely for the sake of appearance. A huge pit with vertical walls opened instantly under him; pushed by a gentle breeze in his back, K. sunk into it. And while he was raising his head from below and the impenetrable depth was already embracing him, up on the tombstone, wonderfully adorned, his name was swiftly appearing.

Enchanted by this sight, he woke up.