In 1926: living at the edge of time - Monoskop

TELEPHONES 229
go to the castle with his assistants. Since it has by now become obvious
to him that this will require permission, he has the assistants call the
castle once again: "The 'no' of the answer was audible even to K. at his
table. But the answer went on and was still more explicit. It ran as
follows: 'Neither tomorrow nor at any other time'" (20-21). To the
astonishment of the guests at the inn, K. decides that he will call the
castle himself. But his daring attempt ends in humiliation. The loud static
in the connection makes it clear how far away he is from the castle, and
the voice at the other end of the line betrays the violence inherent in the
power relation between the castle and the village: "The receiver emitted
a buzz of a kind that K. had never before heard on a telephone. It was
like the hum of countless children's voices-yet not a hum. Rather, the
echo of voices singing at an infinite distance, blended by sheer impossibility
into one high but resonant sound that vibrated in the ear as if
trying to penetrate beyond mere hearing" (21). As a last effort, and as
an act of instinctive self-protection, K. pretends to be one of his own
assistants. But he can neither deceive the castle's bureaucracy nor escape
the violence of the voice on the other side: "K. was listening to the new
note and almost missed the question: 'What is it you want?' He felt like
laying down the receiver. He had ceased to expect anything from this
conversation. But being pressed, he replied quickly, 'When can my master
come to the castle?' 'Never,' was the answer. 'Very well,' said K., and
hung up" (22).
From his work as a legal agent for the Arbeiter-Unfall-Versicherungs­
Anstalt (Workers' Accident Insurance Agency) in Prague, Kafka must
know first-hand what it is like to deal with an authority figure at the
other end of a telephone connection (Wagenbach, 104). This figure is of
course always a man, who, regardless of the sex of the person at the other
end, assigns to this person a role of passivity and resignation. [see Employees,
Male vs. Female, Action = Impotence (Tragedy)] In Jules Supervielle's
novel Le voleur d' enfants (The Man Who Stole Children), a
well-to-do widow and mother receives a pneumatic express-letter saying
that her only son has been abducted: "The next morning, at eight
o'clock, Helene was brought a typewritten letter which had been sent by
pneumatic tube: 'No need for concern. I've got Antoine. He's perfectly
happy and surrounded by all sorts of comforts. If he ever shows a desire
to return to his mother, I'll bring him back myself" (55). These words,
like the language of the castle administration in Das Schloss, preclude