The Egalitarian Giant: Representations of Justice in History/Literature

In Franz Kafka's The Trial, a horrifying fable of human alienation from human institutions, there is a central encounter between Kafka's persona K. and the painter Titorelli, whose task is to reproduce endlessly the icons of the judicial system—arbitrary, logically absurd, yet cruel and inescapable—of which K. has become the latest victim. Approaching a painting in progress, K. recognized its subject as a judge, but could not identify a large figure rising in the middle of the picture from the high back of the judicial seat: “It is Justice,” said the painter at last. “Now I can recognize it,” said K. “There's the bandage over the eyes, and here are the scales. But aren't there wings on the figure's heels, and isn't it flying?” “Yes,” said the painter, “my instructions were to paint it like that; actually it is Justice and the goddess of Victory in one.” “Not a very good combination, surely,” said K., smiling. “Justice must stand quite still, or else the scales will waver and a just verdict will become impossible.” “I had to follow my client's instructions,” said the painter. “Of course,” said K., who had not wished to give any offense by his remark. “You have painted the figure as it actually stands above the high seat.” “No,” said the painter, “I have neither seen the figure nor the high seat, that is all invention, but I am told what to paint and I paint it.”