Postponed Judgment: What Does it Mean to Judge in the Kafkaesque World?

Tomoko Seki*

Abstract

How can we evaluate something when judgment does not lead to truth, justice or catharsis? In some of Kafka’s works, judgments serve as delays that create tension and amplify frustration. Likewise, assessing certain theatrical works can be challenging, often requiring a postponement of judgment. This article explores the intersection of judgment in Kafka’s stories and theatre, examining specific works such as Die Hundekot-Attacke, Seven Jewish Children, The Merchant of Venice (2012, Habima), and Dritte Generation.

Keywords: Kafka, Judgement, Seven Jewish Children, The Merchant of Venice, Dritte Generation, Die Hundekot-Attacke

Judging/judgment is a critical theme in Kafka’s work. Many readers have regarded judgment from the same position as K, or as the other protagonist who is judged. However, I claim that in the Kafkaesque world, we can also be in the position of an authority who must judge others without any evidence to support the judgement. Some theatrical works, especially those addressing complex real-world issues, often avoid offering clear solutions. This approach encourages the audience to delay judgment and question the nature of judgment itself. These works frequently portray a Kafkaesque world, characterized by its nightmarish and surreal qualities. In this paper, I explore the challenges of making judgments within this Kafkaesque context, using specific theatrical pieces as examples.

Kafka’s The Trial (Der Process, 1914–15), In the Penal Colony (In der Strafkolonie, 1914) and Before the Law (Vor dem Gesetz, 1915) are three telling examples of judgment in the legal arena. In The Trial and Before the Law, the concept of judgment is perpetually postponed from the start to the end of the narrative. In Before the Law, judgment remains inconclusive, while in The Trial, it is rendered unsatisfactorily. Conversely, in In the Penal Colony, the judgment’s words are literally inscribed onto the defendant’s body. In contrast, in A Country Doctor (Ein Landarzt, 1917) and The Judgment (Das Urteil, 1912), judgment carries decisive weight for the protagonist, despite the absence of a legal context. In The Judgment, the father’s unjust condemnation of his son leads directly to the son’s suicide, though the narrative lacks logical coherence.

Thus, while judgment is a crucial element in the development of several of Kafka’s works, it often fails to deliver the catharsis typical of traditional courtroom dramas found in television or film. In Kafka’s stories, the judge, the charges and the acts associated with judgment are frequently obscure or incomprehensible to ordinary reasoning. In essence, Kafka’s judgments do not offer the expected justice, truth, resolution or catharsis. Instead, they function as delays, heightening tension and frustration.

It is important to begin with the elementary question: What is the judgment of a theatrical piece? Die Hundekot-Attacke (2023), which I saw at Berliner Festspiele Theatertreffen 2024 just before the International Association of Theatre Critics (AICT-IATC) Kafka Conference (at Brno), problematizes the judgment of the work itself in terms of its subject matter and structure.[1] The piece in question revolves around Marco Goecke’s assault on Wiebke Hüster, a theater critic. Goecke, a choreographer and former artistic director of the Staatsoper Hannover, threw dog feces in Hüster’s face in retaliation for her harsh review of his work Glaube Liebe Hoffnung. This incident is the central theme of Die Hundekot-Attacke, a pseudo-documentary that explores the process of creating a work based on the attack. The completed work is ultimately presented as a failure. The piece not only examines the act of creating but also includes an evaluation of the finished product, highlighting the complexities involved in the completion and assessment of artistic work.

The challenge of evaluating Die Hundekot-Attacke arises from the disparity between the work itself and its original context, influenced by its theme and structure. Conversely, there are instances where external factors, such as social conditions, complicate judgment even if the work’s theme does not explicitly involve evaluation. In these cases, the audience must delay their judgment, which extends beyond the work itself to critique the broader social context. The following paragraphs illustrate this with several examples.

Many of Caryl Churchill’s plays ask questions rather than offer clear answers to the audience. They do not disturb the audience’s values and present a clear message of justice in a straightforward manner. In Seven Jewish Children (2009), the number and gender of the characters are unspecified. However, it is evident that the adults are deliberating on what to communicate to the children. The context suggests they are Jewish residents of Israel, and their dialogue, framed as “tell her” and “don’t tell her,” revolves around how to discuss the situation in Gaza and the surrounding Arab regions.

The piece is subtitled “A Play for Gaza” and is only allowed to be performed as a charity, which is noted by the author as follows:

“Anyone who wishes to do [perform] it should contact the author’s agent (see details on page iv), who will license performances free of charge provided that no admission fee is charged, and that a collection is taken at each performance for Medical Aid for Palestinians (MAP).” (Churchill, Churchill Plays 3)

Although it is supposed to be pro-Palestinian, Churchill does not make the message easy to discern, as usual. The audience is forced to judge for or against all the characters’ decisions to tell particular details, or to not tell what is in their own minds. Critics have rarely assessed the piece as a work of art, although they have referred to the relationship between art and political ideas in their assessment that the work is pro-Palestinian/anti-Jewish. For example, John Nathan, from the Jewish Chronicle, criticized Dominic Cooke, the director, by asserting that he used Jewish actors to avoid violent denunciation, and concluded, “I am moved to say about a work at a major production house that this is an antisemitic play.” Jan Dally saw the piece as more “Agitprop” (130) (“agitation” and “propaganda”) than a theatrical event.

In Churchill’s case, political ideas were the motivation for the work being written, but sometimes the context was more political than the work itself. In 2012, Shakespeare’s Globe presented the Globe to Globe Festival, offering 37 productions in 37 different languages as a part of the 2012 Cultural Olympiad.[2] Dominic Dromgoole, the artistic director of the Globe at the time, commissioned The Merchant of Venice to be performed in Hebrew by the Habima, the National Israeli Theatre. Dromgoole’s decision provoked fierce opposition from pro-Palestinian groups, who criticized it as anti-Palestinian. The campaign group Boycott sent the Globe an open letter to protest the invitation of the Habima,[3] and even Mark Rylance, the founding artistic director of the Globe, took part in the signature-collection campaign.[4]

In contrast to the harshness of the campaign, the performance itself was rather tame. Despite the protestors navigating through stringent security checkpoints and unfurling their banner, the stage was alive with music, laughter and joy. A significant aspect of the direction was its focus on the audience as judges. The Duke, who presided over the Cannibal Trial, was present among them. Consequently, Shylock’s defense was directed towards the audience. This setup allowed the judgment to extend beyond the Cannibal Trial, encompassing the performance itself and even addressing the broader Israeli–Palestinian conflict.

Dromgoole went onstage before the performance and told the audience that the people who were going to perform were artists, that they were not there to talk politics and that they should be respected.[5] Even if we agree with this statement, can we really separate art from politics in this work? The reviews were clearly divided. Some critics said that only the artistry of the art should be mentioned, while others said that it cannot be separated from its sociopolitical background. For example, the critics including Fiona Mountfold, Dominic Maxwell and Paul Taylor, discussed the protest campaign at length, while their reviews on the performance itself were less substantial. However, one critic combined the aesthetics of its direction and politics as follows:

“The final image of this production by Israeli company Habima is a stark one. Small and crushed, as if weighed down by history itself, Jacob Cohen’s broken Shylock—a man who has lost daughter, fortune, and home—is seen, suitcase in hand, walking away from Venice, an eternal wandering Jew. But it was impossible not to think of other displaced people, too, most particularly the Palestinians.” (Gardner, 566–67)

The British critic concluded that the performance reflected the attitudes of not only pro-Palestinians but also pro-Israelis. However, the work reveals that judgments extend beyond mere criticism. Even the act of purchasing a ticket and attending the theatre involves more than simply watching the performance or endorsing the invitation of the Israel National Theatre; it signifies a financial support that carries its own implications.

Dritte Generation, directed by Yael Ronen. Photo: Heiko Schäfer

Yael Ronen also presented a work that reserves judgment. In her ensemble’s The Third Generation (Dritte Generation, 2008), Jewish, Arab and German actors—the third generation coming from the Holocaust—appear onstage as themselves.[6] They speak their thoughts as the third generation of their respective communities, some of which sounded irresponsible or insensitive, even at the time of the premiere. The respective communities pursue and accuse one another of historical responsibility, but they do not come to any conclusions. Their heated debate eventually ends abruptly when one actor suddenly takes off her clothes, saying, “Do you want to see the real art? I’ll show it!” while the others try to stop her. Interestingly, her abrupt undressing appears to be a part of the humor, as it’s common for German theatres to feature scenes where characters disrobe.

The performance foregrounds political, social and historical conditions, but it does not give a clear message, and the semi-documentary format makes it difficult to address its artistic value. Ronen’s direction was regarded as a new standard:

“Despite the gravity of the issues raised and their weight, Ronen is far from being boring or sublime. The debate goes on as a rushing stream, inlaid with funny situations and dramatic turns. This production raises the level of political debate to a new standard.” (Milkowski)

He stated that Ronen and the ensemble intertwined aesthetics, politics and humor. Although the performance was highly acclaimed, the audience was forced to postpone their judgment of the performance on several levels.

These works hinder the audience from making quick judgments. They share a common feature with the Kafkaesque world in that judgment is deferred. Readers of Kafka’s works empathize with characters like K, experiencing a sense of their own judgment being indefinitely postponed. However, in the context of theatrical performances, we ourselves become the ones who delay judgment. This postponement of judgment in theatre can also acquire political and social dimensions. The authors of What Is the Theatre state:

“One can contribute to asking questions of the world, even if one doesn’t change it, and to disrupting its order by the implementation of another order, which is placed on the ground of aesthetics and in the social and political sphere. Thus, the fictional—case-shaped debate—can then come into contact through its contradictory representation and [be] problematized on the stage through the distanced representation of an action, through the discourse articulated in poetic form, with the real debates situated within the precincts of the theatrical space and in the social site that contains it. Thus, this representation—a pretext for the real debate—will alone be able to have an impact on the world, provided that it exceeds the space of the session. For it is the questions it raises, more than the mimetic illusion that theorists attribute to it, which will allow this overflow and extension of the field of debate.” (Biet and Tiau)

In other words, when a theatre production poses questions rather than answers to the audience about real-world political and social issues on the premise that it is a fictional space, the resulting judgment becomes not only a judgment of the art itself but also of real-world problems. Therefore, the judgment is not easy for the audience to make. Theatre transcends the contradiction of being both fictional and real at the same time.

Dritte Generation, directed by Yael Ronen. Photo: Heiko Schäfer

Although I will not delve further into this topic, the next question concerns what art critics express when they are compelled to defer their judgments. The anticipated catharsis in judgment does not occur in reality, but rather exists only within the realm of drama. Kafka’s portrayal of judgment thus appears more realistic. Consequently, the frustration surrounding the audience’s judgment is either interrupted or postponed, highlighting the impossibility of resolution and the absence of catharsis in the real world as a tangible reality. This represents the intersection of judging and judgment in Kafka’s works and theatre.


Endnotes

[1] For more information about the performance, including the trailer, see Theatertreffen 2024’s website.

[2] For more information about the performance, including the trailer, see Globeplayer’s website. You can subscribe or buy the full screening, although the scenes of the protestant were cut.

[3] See the details on Boycott from Within’s website.

[4] See here.

[5] “As the performance was about to begin on the open-air stage, Dromgoole addressed the audience and joked about the unusual security arrangements. ‘If there are disturbances, let’s be perfectly calm,’ he went on. ‘Don’t get angry. You’re not watching politicians or policy-makers. You are watching artists who are here to tell a story.’” See here.

[6] Dritte Generation was updated to Third Generation–Next Generation at the Maxim Gorki Theater in 2019 because of the changing international situation. For more information about the performance, including the trailer, see the Maxim Gorki Theater’s website.

Bibliography

Biet, Christian, and Christophe Triau. What Is the Theatre? Translated by Jason Allen-Paisant in collaboration with Joanne Brueton. Routledge, 2019.

Churchill, Caryl. Seven Jewish Children. Directed by Dominic Cooke, Royal Court Theatre, 2009.

—. Seven Jewish Children. Churchill Plays: Five. Nick Hern Books, 2019, pp. 1–12.

Dally, Jan. “Review of Seven Jewish Children.” Theatre Record, vol. 29, no. 3, 12 Feb. 2009, p. 130.

Die Hundekot-Attacke. Directed by Walter Bart (Wunderbaum), Theaterhaus Jena and Wunderbaum, 2023.

Gardner, Lyn. “Review of The Merchant of Venice.” Theatre Record, vol. 32, no. 11, 29 May 2012, pp. 566–67.

Miłkowski, Tomasz. “Post-Holocaust or Gordian Knot: Dritte Generation,” Critical Stages/Scènes Critiques: The IATC Webjournal/Revue web de l’AICT, no. 3, 2010.

Nathan, John. “Review of Seven Jewish Children.” Theatre Record, vol. 29, no. 3, 14 Feb. 2009, pp. 129–30.

Ronen, Yael, and the Ensembles. Dritte Generation. Schaubühne Berlin, 2008.

Shakespeare, William. The Merchant of Venice. Directed by Ilan Ronen, The Habima Theatre; Shakespeare’s Globe, 2012. 


*Tomoko Seki is Assistant Professor, Waseda University, Tokyo, and also works as a theatre critic and translator. Her interests include Contemporary European Theatre, British Drama and Theatre, and Theory of Drama; her recent publications include Deviation and Violation: The Dramaturgy of Sarah Kane (Suisei-sha, 2023). As of January of 2025, Tomoko Seki will reside in New York City, having been selected as New York Fellow of the Asian Cultural Council.

Copyright © 2024 Tomoko Seki
Critical Stages/Scènes critiques, #30, Dec. 2024
e-ISSN: 2409-7411

Creative Commons Attribution International License

This work is licensed under the
Creative Commons Attribution International License CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.