JACKALS AND ARABS
BY
FRANZ KAFKA
ADAPTED BY JAMES DOWNER
JUNE 1997
The Northerner
The Arab
The Oldest Jackal
THE NORTHERNER:(whispering) I am so glad I can finally lie down and sleep. Riding a camel in the desert all day is very tying. How cool the night in the desert can be ,
but wait what is that rustling sound I can hear. Now I hear the howl.
It's the familiar sound of the desert, a jackal! Now another and another
It seems to surround the camp. Now I see them.. a thousand eyes in the night,
like gems they reflect the light from our fire. Now I can see them clearly they ARE jackals,
hundreds of jackals. What can have attracted some many to the camp.
What had been so far away are all at once quite near.
Jackals are swarming around me, lithe bodies moving nimbly and rhythmically,
as if at the crack of a whip.
THE OLDEST JACKAL: I am the oldest jackal far and wide,
I am delighted to have met you here at last. I had almost given up hope ,
since we have been waiting endless years for you; my mother waited for you,
and her mother, and all our fore-mothers right back to the first mother of all the jackals.
It is true, believe me!
THE NORTHERNER: That is surprising , that is very surprising for
me to hear. It is by pure chance that I have come here from the far North,
and I am making only a short tour of your country. What do you jackals want, then?
THE OLDEST JACKAL: We know that you have come from the North,
that is just what we base our hopes on. You Northerners have the kind of intelligence
that is not to be found among Arabs. Not a spark of intelligence, let me tell you,
can be struck from their cold arrogance. They kill animals for food, and carrion they despise.
THE NORTHERNER: Not so loud! There are Arabs sleeping near by.
THE OLDEST JACKAL: You are indeed a stranger here
or you would know that never in the history of the world has any jackal been afraid of an Arab.
Why should we fear them? Is not misfortune enough for us to be exiled among such creatures?
THE NORTHERNER: Maybe, maybe matters so far outside my province
I am not competent to judge; is seems to me a very old quarrel;
I suppose it's in the blood, and perhaps will only end with it. THE OLDEST JACKAL: You are very cleaver, you are very clever;
what you have said agrees with our old tradition.
So we shall draw blood from them and the quarrel will be over.
THE NORTHERNER: Oh! They'll defend themselves;
they'll shoot you down in dozens with their muskets.
THE OLDEST JACKAL: You misunderstand us,
a human failing which persists apparently even in the far North.
We're not proposing to kill them. All the water in the Nile couldn't cleanse us of that
. why, the mere sight of their living fresh makes us turn tail and flee into cleaner air,
into the desert, which for that reason is our home.
THE NORTHERNER: Then what are you proposing to do?
(Whispering) I am trying to raise to my feet but two young jackals have locked their teeth
into my coat and shirt , I have to go on sitting.
THE OLDEST JACKAL: These are your train bearers, a mark of honor.
THE NORTHERNER: They must let go!
THE OLDEST JACKAL: They will , of course if that is your wish.
But it will take a little time, for they have got their teeth well in, as is our custom,
and must first loosen their jaws bit by bit. Meanwhile , give ear to our petition.
THE NORTHERNER: Your conduct hasn't exactly inclined me to grant it.
.
THE OLDEST JACKAL: Don't hold it against us that we are clumsily,
we are poor creatures, we have nothing but our teeth; whatever we want to do, good or bad,
we can tackle it only with our teeth.
THE NORTHERNER: Well what do you want?
THE OLDEST JACKAL: Sir, Sir, we want you to end this quarrel that
divides the world. You are exactly the man whom our ancestors foretold as born to do it.
We want to troubled no more by Arabs; room to breathe; a skyline cleansed of them;
no more bleating of sheep knifed by an Arab; every beast to die a natural death;
no interference till we drained the carcass empty and picked the bones clean.
Cleanliness, nothing but cleanliness is what we want. How can you bear to live in such a world,
O noble heart and kindly bowels? fifth is their white;
fifth is their black; their beards are a horror;
the very sight of their eye sockets makes one want to spit;
and when they lift an arm the musk of hell yawns in the armpit.
And so, Sir, and so, dear Sir, the means of your all-powerful hands
slit their throats through with these scissors.
THE NORTHERNER: (whispering) Look there is a jackal
approaching with a small pair of sewing scissors covered in rust dangling from his eyetooth.
THE ARAB: Well, here are the scissors at last, and high time to stop!...
So you've been treated to this entertainment too, sir.
You know, then , what brutes are after? Of course, it's common knowledge;
so long as Arabs exist. that pair of scissors goes wandering through the desert
and will wander with us to the end of our days.
Every European is offered it for the great work;
every European is just the man that fate has chosen for them.
They have the most lunatic hopes, these beasts; they are our dogs;
finer dogs than any of yours. Watch this, now, a camel died last night and I had it brought here.
You four men bring up the camel!
There it hardly touched the ground and the jackals are lifting up their voices.
They are irresistibly drawn by a cord, now each crawls on his belly.
They have forgotten the Arab. Forgotten their hatred.
The all-obliterating presence of the sinking carrion bewitches them.
One is already at the camel's throat, sinking his teeth straight into an artery.
Like a vehement small pump endeavoring with such determination
as hopefulness of extinguishing some raging fire,
every muscle in their bodies twitching and laboring at the task.
In at trice they are onto the carcass, laboring in common, piled mountain-high.
And now I will lash them with my whip and cut criss-crosses in their backs.
They are half swooning in ecstasy. Now they see me. Now they feel the whip on their mussels.
There they leap and run back a stretch. Ah but the camel's blood and the reeking carcass,
they cannot resist. They will return after I stop whipping them.
THE NORTHERNER: Stop now!
THE ARAB: You are right , sir, we'll leave them to their business;
besides it's time to break camp. Well, you have seen them marvelous creatures, aren't they?
And how they hate us!
Jackals are swarming around me, lithe bodies moving nimbly and rhythmically,
