doorkeeper has other elements in his character which are likely to advantage anyone
seeking admittance and which make it comprehensible enough that he should somewhat
exceed his duty in suggesting the possibility of future admittance. For it cannot be denied
that he is a little simple-minded and consequently a little conceited. Take the statements he
makes about his power and the power of the other doorkeepers and their dreadful aspect
which even he cannot bear to see — I hold that these statements may be true enough, but
that the way in which he brings them out shows that his perceptions are confused by
simpleness of mind and conceit. The commentators note in this connection: `The right
perception of any matter and a misunderstanding of the same matter do not wholly exclude
each other.’ One must at any rate assume that such simpleness and conceit, however
sparingly manifest, are likely to weaken his defense of the door; they are breaches in the
character of the doorkeeper. To this must be added the fact that the doorkeeper seems to be
a friendly creature by nature, he is by no means always on his official dignity. In the very
first moments he allows himself the jest of inviting the man to enter in spite of the strictly
maintained veto against entry; then he does not, for instance, send the man away, but gives
him, as we are told, a stool and lets him sit down beside the door. The patience with which
he endures the man’s appeals during so many years, the brief conversations, the acceptance
of the gifts, the politeness with which he allows the man to curse loudly in his presence the
fate for which he himself is responsible — all this lets us deduce certain feelings of pity.
Not every doorkeeper would have acted thus. And finally, in answer to a gesture of the
man’s he bends down to give him the chance of putting a last question. Nothing but mild
impatience — the doorkeeper knows that this is the end of it all — is discernible in the
words: `You are insatiable.’ Some push this mode of interpretation even further and hold
that these words express a kind of friendly admiration, though not without a hint of
condescension. At any rate the figure of the doorkeeper can be said to come out very
differently from what you fancied.” “You have studied the story more exactly and for a longer time than I have,” said K. They were both silent for a little while. Then K. said: “So
you think the man was not deceived?” “Don’t misunderstand me,” said the priest, “I am
only showing you the various opinions concerning that point. You must not pay too much
attention to them. The scriptures are unalterable and the comments often enough merely
express the commentators’ despair. In this case there even exists an interpretation which
claims that the deluded person is really the doorkeeper.” “That’s a far-fetched
interpretation,” said K. “On what is it based?” “It is based,” answered the priest, “on the
simple-mindedness of the doorkeeper. The argument is that he does not know the Law
from inside, he knows only the way that leads to it, where he patrols up and down. His
ideas of the interior are assumed to be childish, and it is supposed that he himself is afraid
of the other guardians whom he holds up as bogies before the man. Indeed, he fears them
more than the man does, since the man is determined to enter after hearing about the
dreadful guardians of the interior, while the doorkeeper has no desire to enter, at least not
so far as we are told. Others again say that he must have been in the interior already, since
he is after all engaged in the service of the Law and can only have been appointed from
inside. This is countered by arguing that he may have been appointed by a voice calling
from the interior, and that anyhow he cannot have been far inside, since the aspect of the
third doorkeeper is more than he can endure. Moreover, no indication is given that during
all these years he ever made any remarks showing a knowledge of the interior, except for