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prevent him screaming and biting his tongue to pieces. Of course, the man has to let the
felt in his mouth—otherwise the straps around his throat would break his neck.” “That’s
cotton wool?” asked the Traveler and bent down. “Yes, it is,” said the Officer smiling,
“feel it for yourself.”
He took the Traveler’s hand and led him over to the bed. “It’s a specially prepared
cotton wool. That’s why it looks so unrecognizable. I’ll get around to mentioning its
purpose in a moment.” The Traveler was already being won over a little to the apparatus.
With his hand over his eyes to protect them from the sun, he looked at the apparatus in the
hole. It was a massive construction. The bed and the inscriber were the same size and
looked like two dark chests. The inscriber was set about two metres above the bed, and the
two were joined together at the corners by four brass rods, which almost reflected the sun.
The harrow hung between the chests on a band of steel.
The Officer had hardly noticed the earlier indifference of the Traveler, but he did have a
sense now of how the latter’s interest was being aroused for the first time. So he paused in
his explanation in order to allow the Traveler time to observe the apparatus undisturbed.
The Condemned Man imitated the Traveler, but since he could not put his hand over his
eyes, he blinked upward with his eyes uncovered.
“So now the man is lying down,” said the Traveler. He leaned back in his chair and
crossed his legs.
“Yes,” said the Officer, pushing his cap back a little and running his hand over his hot
face. “Now, listen. Both the bed and the inscriber have their own electric batteries. The
bed needs them for itself, and the inscriber for the harrow. As soon as the man is strapped
in securely, the bed is set in motion. It quivers with tiny, very rapid oscillations from side
to side and up and down simultaneously. You will have seen similar devices in mental
hospitals. Only with our bed all movements are precisely calibrated, for they must be
meticulously coordinated with the movements of the harrow. But it’s the harrow which has
the job of actually carrying out the sentence.”
“What is the sentence?” the Traveler asked. “You don’t even know that?” asked the
Officer in astonishment and bit his lip. “Forgive me if my explanations are perhaps
confused. I really do beg your pardon. Previously it was the Commandant’s habit to
provide such explanations. But the New Commandant has excused himself from this
honourable duty. The fact that with such an eminent visitor”—the traveler tried to deflect
the honour with both hands, but the officer insisted on the expression—“that with such an
eminent visitor he didn’t even once make him aware of the form of our sentencing is yet
again something new, which … ” He had a curse on his lips, but controlled himself and
said merely: “I was not informed about it. It’s not my fault. In any case, I am certainly the
person best able to explain our style of sentencing, for here I am carrying”—he patted his
breast pocket—“the relevant diagrams drawn by the previous Commandant.”
“Diagrams made by the Commandant himself?” asked the Traveler. “Then was he in his
own person a combination of everything? Was he soldier, judge, engineer, chemist, and
draftsman?”
“He was indeed,” said the Officer, nodding his head with a fixed and thoughtful
expression. Then he looked at his hands, examining them. They didn’t seem to him clean
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book In the Penal Colony"
In the Penal Colony
Translated from the German by Ian Johnston
- Title
- In the Penal Colony
- Author
- Franz Kafka
- Date
- 1919
- Language
- English
- License
- PD
- Size
- 21.0 x 29.7 cm
- Pages
- 19
- Category
- International