BEFORE THE LAW

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 will 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 stand 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 the other gatekeepers, and this first one seems to him 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 in 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 not yet 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 to know 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 that 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 this entrance was assigned only to you. I’m going now to close it.”

Written by Franz Kafka, 1915.

Translation by Ian Johnston, 2009. Used with permission.

I 2016 utkom det en tynn, pent innbundet bok på Forlagshuset ved navn Ekte skriveglede. Forfatterne het Ken Jensen og Egil Foss Iversen.  På baksiden blir vi fortalt at ...

Ekte skriveglede er boken for alle som ønsker å bli forfatter, men som kanskje føler at de stamper litt i motbakke. Dette er også boken for deg som vil bli en bedre forfatter. Vi tar deg med bak kulissene og lar deg få et unikt innblikk i hvordan en bok blir til. Her finner du konkrete tips til hvordan du skal gå fra standardavslag til antagelse, fra skrivebordsskuff til utgivelse. Ekte skriveglede gir deg verktøyene for å lykkes i dagens stramme bokmarked.

Før jeg sier noe om boken, vil jeg disclaime litt: Jeg kjenner den ene av forfatterne, den godeste Ken Jensen. Vi har lest og kommentert hverandres skjønnlitterære tekster i tyve år. Hvilken betydning det vil ha for min anmeldelse av denne boken, ligger fullstendig utenfor min erkjennelseshorisont.

Ekte skriveglede er en fagbok av en type som er relativt populær i våre dager. Nesten like populær som skrivekurs med kjente forfattere, vil jeg tro. Det kan virke som om bokmarkedet i stadig større grad skifter fokus: fra å få folk til å betale for å lese, til å få folk til å betale for å lære å skrive. Nå er det nok lenge til "skrivebøker" gjør krimlitteraturen rangen stridig hva salg og offentlig oppmerksomhet angår, men jeg vil tro at den smalere litteraturen forlengst er passert. Jeg spekulerer gjerne i årsakene til denne utviklingen, men her skal jeg konsentrere meg om den foreliggende skriveboken. … fortsett å lese «Ekte skriveglede – anmeldelse»