Amerika (Mark Harman 2008 Translation) by Franz Kafka

Author:Franz Kafka [Kafka, Franz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature
ISBN: 9780805242645
Publisher: Schocken Books Inc
Published: 1927-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

VI

THE ROBINSON AFFAIR

___________

Just then someone tapped him on the shoulder. Thinking that it must of course be a guest, Karl quickly put the apple in his pocket and, after scarcely looking at the man, rushed over to the elevator. “Good evening, Mr. Rossmann,” said the man, “it’s me, Robinson.” “But you’ve changed,” said Karl, shaking his head. “Yes, I’m doing well,” said Robinson, glancing down at his clothing, which, although perhaps comprised of fairly elegant items, was so jumbled that it looked downright shabby. Most striking was a white waistcoat obviously worn for the first time, with four little pockets bordered in black, which Robinson sought to accentuate by sticking out his chest. “You certainly have expensive clothes,” said Karl, and he had a fleeting memory of the beautiful simple suit in which he could have held his own even alongside Renell but that had been sold by his two bad friends. “Yes,” said Robinson, “I buy something almost every day. How do you like my waistcoat?” “Quite nice,” said Karl. “The pockets aren’t real, though, they’re just made for show,” said Robinson, and he took Karl’s hand so that the latter could convince himself of this. Karl, however, shrank back, since Robinson’s mouth smelled unbearably of brandy. “You’ve begun to drink heavily again,” said Karl, who had returned to the balustrade. “Not heavily,” said Robinson, and, contradicting his previous remark about being so satisfied, he went on: “What else has a man got in this world.” A trip interrupted this conversation, and no sooner had Karl reached the ground floor than the telephone rang, and he was informed that he should fetch the hotel doctor since a lady up on the seventh floor had fainted. As he went about this task, Karl hoped secretly that Robinson would already be gone, for he had no desire to be seen in his company and, remembering Therese’s warning, did not wish to hear anything from Delamarche either. Robinson, however, was still waiting in the stiff posture of a completely intoxicated person, and just then a high-ranking hotel official in a black frock coat and cylinder hat passed by, fortunately without seeming to pay special attention to Robinson. “Rossmann, wouldn’t you like to come and visit us sometime; we’re living in style now,” said Robinson, directing an enticing glance at Karl. “Are you inviting me or is Delamarche?” asked Karl. “Delamarche and I. Both of us see eye to eye on this,” said Robinson. “Then there’s something I wish you to know and would ask that you pass it on to Delamarche: just in case this wasn’t already sufficiently clear, when we said goodbye it was for the last time. The two of you have given me more grief than anyone else. Do you really want to go on pestering me like this?” “But we are your comrades,” said Robinson, his eyes filling with vile tears of intoxication. “Delamarche would like you to know he wants to make amends for everything that happened earlier.

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