fragment from Das Urteil (The Judgement) by Franz Kafka. Par JOST CHRISTIAN. Kafka's œuvre is interspersed with moments of utter anxiety. Moments in which, induced by adrenalin, the blood pressure rises. Blood vessels which seem to constrict, pump enormous quantities of blood the pressure of which might make one believe that the head is going to explode. In The Judgment, an innocent opening story leads to one of the most unusual showdowns in world literature: The beloved father sentences his son to death by drowning; the son immediately obeys since his life, his existence almost explodes, becomes blurred, dissolves at the moment the judgment is pronounced. For me, the 'self' driving him – I imagine this as a high sound in the inner ear – could only be a soprano. This is why the actual 'fall' has turned out to be clear, almost friendly and why Georg only seems to want to breathe a soft and quiet 'Dear parents, I have always loved you' during the fall while no longer keeping the singing tone, shortly before death, almost casually, takes hold of him. Christian Jost/ Répertoire / Soprano et Piano