"Franz_Kafka_-_The_Judgment" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kafka Franz)

make a more suitable friend for him."
And, in fact, he did inform his friend about his engagement, in the long letter he had been writing that Sunday morning, with the following words: "I have saved my
best news for last. I am now engaged to a Fraulein Frieda Brandenfeld, a girl from a well-to-do family that settled here a long time after you went away, so that it's
very unlikely you'll know her. There will be ample opportunity to tell you more about my fiancee later, but for today let me just say that I am quite happy, and as far as
our relationship is concerned, the only change will be that instead of a quite ordinary friend you will now have in me a happy friend. Besides that, you will acquire in my
fiancee, who sends you her warm regards and who will soon be writing you herself, a genuine friend of the opposite sex, which is not without importance to a bachelor.
I know that there are many reasons why you can't come to pay us a visit, but wouldn't my wedding be just the perfect occasion to put aside everything that might stand
in the way? Still, however that may be, do just as seems good to you without regarding any interests but your own."
With this letter in his hand, Georg had been sitting a long time at his desk, his face turned to the window. He had barely acknowledged, with an absent smile, a
greeting waved to him from the street below by a passing acquaintance.
At last he put the letter in his pocket and went out of his room across a small hallway into his father's room, which he had not entered for months. There was, in
fact, no particular need for him to enter it, since he saw his father daily at work and they took their midday meal together at a restaurant; in the evening, it was true, each
did as he pleased, yet even then, unless Georg--as was usually the case--went out with friends or, more recently, visited his fiancee, they always sat for a while, each
with his newspaper, in their common sitting room.
Georg was startled by how dark his father's room was, even on this sunny morning. He had not remembered that it was so overshadowed by the high wall on the
other side of the narrow courtyard. His father was sitting by the window in a corner decorated with various mementos of Georg's late mother, reading a newspaper
which he held tilted to one side before his eyes in an attempt to compensate for some defect in his vision. On the table stood the remains of his breakfast, little of which
seemed to have been consumed.
"Ah, Georg," said his father, rising at once to meet him. His heavy dressing gown swung open as he walked, and his skirts fluttered around him. --My father is still
a giant of a man, Georg said to himself.
"It's unbearably dark in here," he said aloud.
"Yes, it is dark," answered his father.
"And you've shut the window, too?"
"I prefer it like that."
"Well, it's quite warm outside," said Georg, as if continuing his previous remark, and sat down.
His father cleared away the breakfast dishes and set them on a chest.
"I really only wanted to tell you," Georg went on, following the old man's movements as if transfixed, "that I have just announced the news of my engagement to
St. Petersburg." He drew the letter a little way from his pocket and let it drop back again.
"To St. Petersburg?" asked his father.
"To my friend, of course," said Georg, trying to meet his father's eye. --In business hours, he's quite different, he was thinking, how solidly he sits here and folds
his arms over his chest.
"Ah, yes. To your friend," said his father emphatically.
"Well, you know, Father, that I didn't want to tell him about my engagement at first. Out of consideration for him--that was the only reason. You yourself know
how difficult a man he is. I said to myself that someone else might tell him about my engagement, although he's such a solitary creature that that was hardly likely, but I
wasn't ever going to tell him myself."
"And now you've changed your mind, have you?" asked his father, laying his enormous newspaper on the window sill and on top of it his eyeglasses, which he
covered with one hand.
"Yes, now I've changed my mind. If he's a good friend of mine, I said to myself, then my being happily engaged should make him happy too. And that's why I
haven't put off telling him any longer. But before I mailed the letter I wanted to let you know."
"Georg," said his father, stretching his toothless mouth wide, "listen to me! You've come to me about this business, to talk it over and get my advice. No doubt
that does you honor. But it's nothing, it's worse than nothing, if you don't tell me the whole truth. I don't want to stir up matters that shouldn't be mentioned here. Since
the death of our dear mother certain things have happened that aren't very pretty. Maybe the time will come for mentioning them, and maybe sooner than we think.
There are a number of things at the shop that escape my notice, maybe they're not done behind my back--I'm not going to say that they're done behind my back--I'm not
strong enough any more, my memory's slipping, I haven't an eye for all those details any longer. In the first place that's in the nature of things, and in the second place
the death of our dear little mother hit me harder than it did you.--But since we're talking about it, about this letter, I beg you, Georg, don't decieve me. It's a trivial thing,
it's hardly worth mentioning, so don't decieve me. Do you really have this friend in St. Petersburg?"
Georg rose in embarrassment. "Never mind my friends. A thousand friends could never replace my father for me. Do you know what I think? You're not taking
enough care of yourself. But old age has its own rightful demands. I can't do without you in the business, you know that very well, but if the business is going to
undermine your health, I'm ready to close it down tomorrow for good. This won't do. We'll have to make a change in the way you live; a radical change. You sit here
in the dark, and in the sitting room you would have plenty of light. You just take a bite of breakfast instead of keeping up your strength properly. You sit by a closed