Cecily's Reviews > In the Penal Colony

There is often menace and even horror in Kafka's works, but not usually blood and gore, as this has. Nevertheless, in many ways, it is quintessential Kafka, featuring abuse of the law, the mental horror of a helpless and uniformed protagonist, an outsider, a degree of surrealism, and some dry asides.

The Harrowing Harrow

The plot is grim but simple. A traveller to a tropical penal colony is invited to watch their unique method of execution: a complex machine (the Harrow) engraves the words of the offence in an illegible script. The condemned man usually dies about 12 hours later, but as the words are drilled into him, he is supposed to experience a moment of revelation and regret.

The machine is explained in graphic detail by the officer who has devoted years to its upkeep and worships it almost as much as he worships the previous commander who invented it. The officer is despairing that the new commander is not enlightened enough to give full support to the method and fears the commander wants to abolish it.

I expect Orwell had this in mind in 1984: “In the old days the heretic walked to the stake still a heretic… But we make the brain perfect before we blow it out.”

Although proud of the moment of enlightenment bestowed just before death, the officer's concern is mechanics, not morality. Was it madness that made him so obsessed, or his obsession that drove him to madness?

Does Inaction Make one Morally Culpable for Events?

The traveller is horrified, but is unsure whether or how he should intervene. He is an honoured guest, and from a country that is not the colonial power.

In this short story, there are three times when he considers acting. But he does not. "He knew what was going to happen but he had no right to hinder" because the officer was acting logically according to his own principles.

He does not even say farewell to the commandant. He just sails away. I'm reminded of Le Guin's chilling short story, The Ones Who Walked Away from Omelas, which I reviewed HERE.

Sacrifice

In a twist, the one who is sacrificed to the machine is the one who worships it. But even that is futile: the face of the dead officer showed "no sign of the promised deliverance... What all the others had found in the machine, the officer had not found."

Quintessentiallity

The particularly Kafkaesque elements are that the condemned man never knows his crime. It is a trumped up charge of "insubordination and insulting a senior officer", which arises from a pointless job at which success is almost impossible: he fell asleep, so failed to salute the (sleeping) captain's door on the hour, every hour, through the night.

Furthermore, the accused has had no opportunity to defend himself, does not initially know he is due to be executed, or how, and does not speak the language of the officer, traveller or guard. The officer is judge, jury and executioner, something he is proud of - after all, "guilt is always beyond question".

Resurgam

The more surprising and sinister aspect is the fact that the few remaining followers of the previous commander believe that one day he "will rise again" from his grave...

See also

• See my Kafka-related bookshelf for other works by and about Kafka: HERE.

• Another outsider viewing a strange tradition is the narrator of Shirley Jackson's equally disturbing short story, The Lottery, which I reviewed HERE.

• There's a story in Daisy Johnson's Fen about someone's speech causing physical pain, but it's mystical, rather than gory. See my review HERE.

• For a dystopian take on one person's language inflicting extreme physical pain on others, see Ben Marcus' The Flame Alphabet. See my review HERE.

• For a brutal and beautiful alternative to the Harrow, see Yevgeny Zamyatin’s WE. See my review HERE.

• See Bruce's excellent review for an interesting angle, seeing this as a metaphor for language and communication: HERE.

• There is/was an operatic adaptation, which is worth seeing if you have the chance.

Short story club

I read this again in Black Water: The Anthology of Fantastic Literature, by Alberto Manguel, from which I’m reading one story a week with The Short Story Club, starting 4 September 2023.

You can read this story HERE.

You can join the group here.