Paperback 2 —. About The Trial Written in , The Trial is one of the most important novels of the twentieth century: the terrifying tale of Josef K. Translated by Willa and Edwin Muir. Also in The Schocken Kafka Library. See All. Also by Franz Kafka.
Product Details. Inspired by Your Browsing History. Notes from Underground. Fyodor Dostoevsky. The Idiot. Crime and Punishment. The Plague. Albert Camus. Marcel Proust. The Brothers Karamazov.
The Annotated Lolita. Vladimir Nabokov. Fyodor Dostoyevsky. The Magic Mountain. Doctor Zhivago. Boris Pasternak. At work, he took the side of the working class—indeed, he represented its interests in a struggle against capital. The best he could manage within the law still would be a far cry from real justice which, Kafka also knew, would have to include sexual justice to be anywhere near complete.
Then he went up the first set of stairs after all, his mind playing with the memory of the remark the guard Willem had made that the court was attracted by guilt, from which it actually followed that the room for the inquiry would have to be located off whatever stairway K. A article by the renowned physicist Werner Heisenberg suggests that a high-level awareness of modern physics defines and structures the modernist sensibility in art.
The old compartmentalization of the world into an objective process in space and time, on the one hand, and the soul in which this process is mirrored, on the other… is no longer suitable as the starting point for the understanding of modern science. In the field of view of this science there appears above all the network of relations between man and nature, of the connections through which we as physical beings are dependent parts of nature and at the same time, as human beings, make them the object of our thought and actions.
His jokes are technical achievements, yes, but they also speak to a feeling of loneliness that typifies the modern condition. To orchestrate this kind of laughter—to borrow a word from Wallace—might have offered relief from the relentless and political self-criticism that drove Kafka to conceal his writings.
JSTOR is a digital library for scholars, researchers, and students. By: Benjamin Winterhalter. July 2, July 2, Share Tweet Email Print. Weekly Digest. Have a correction or comment about this article? Please contact us. This tells us that no meaning will be had from the Trial; it tells us that there will never be any answers. What exactly is this wierd court?
The court that conducts the trial is shrouded in even more mystery. Just who are these people that can psychologically manipulate with so little effort? They are a powerful order, which is indicated by their sessions always accruing on the highest floor of the building; this evokes their, strange, authoritative presence. There are even suggestions that this court hold sessions in each, and every, building in the city, which again creates more weirdness. Tiny black eyes darted about, cheeks dropped like those of drunken men, the long beards were stiff and scraggly, and when they pulled on them, it seemed as if they were merely forming claws, not pulling beards.
Beneath the beards, however — and this was the true discovery K. However, one thing that remains clear through the novel is the characterisation of K. He is completely bland; he has no endearing qualities whatsoever, yet the women seem to throw themselves at him on multiple occasions.
This resonates in the dream world, because only in a dream world could a man like K be such a womaniser.
He is meek, powerless and accepting of his unjust fate, so only a dream could a shadow of a man like K be so attractive an irresistible. I like to think a little bit of Kafka comes through here. Perhaps he wanted to show what it would be like cut off from the rest of civilization. Overall, this is an iconic piece of literature; it is one that every serious reader should read before they die because it is completely unique.
Its strange narrative resembles a dream; its events are pointless and impenetrable like a nightmare that stays with you forever. Indeed, this book will never be forgotten by those that have read it, as the unanswered questions will haunt for the rest of their days. Review Update: I bought a Folio Society edition of this and just has to show it off Doesn't it just look great?
View all 36 comments. Arrested and executed without knowing why "The Trial" is my favorite Kafka novel, written in It tells the story of Josef K. It is horrifying uncertainty, anxiety and powerlessness put into words. The Law Josef K. He stands accused of an unknown crime but is certain that his trial will bring him justice and transparency.
Court documents, legal proceedings, and even the text of the Law that determines his fate are all forbidden to Josef and often even to the officials or court functionaries that control and dominate him. Each functionary simply fulfills a role without regard for the purpose of that role or the logic of the larger system that contains it.
More than anything he seems to be the victim of frightening injustice and bureaucracy. The Unknowable and Absurd The absurd universe of "The Trial" is utterly immune to any attempts to influence or understand it. Accordingly, there is nothing any individual—defendant, lawyer, and functionary alike—can do. For the accused, every course of action is equally ineffective.
Josef strives endlessly, but never achieves any progress; there is no decisive way to make sense of his situation. Even in his last moments of life, Josef is unable to ascertain a definitive meaning to his story.
The Kafka effect is unexpected change, or encountering something that doesn't make sense. Heavily influenced by Dostoevsky's "Crime and Punishment" and "The Brothers Karamazov", Kafka even went so far as to call Dostoyevsky a blood relative. Kafka is next level of disturbance. In my opinion one of the best books in the world.
View all 18 comments. This famous opening line becomes yet more intriguing as it pitches us directly into a scene whereby the first two protagonists are granted a degree of anonymity by the author, as he seeks to lure us into his philosophical daydream. Who are they, K wonders? They look as if they might be policemen, but neither he, nor the reader, can be certain. They could be pranksters for all he knows. So many unanswered questions: Who is he?
Who are they? Why has he been arrested? Where are we? Does time have a beginning or an end? Why did the chicken cross the road? This , my fine bibliophilic friends, is an enigma burritoed in a paradox. There is something farcical about the situation he finds himself in; the ensuing cockeyed exchange of dialogue was almost Monty Pythonesque.
I shall paraphrase apologies to Mr Kafka Beautiful plumage. There follows a kangaroo court and the comically surreal appearance of a whip-man, whose job it is to give people a damn good flogging.
Kafka uses existentialism like Banksy uses a spray can. K is trying to remain rational while the world around him has become irrational - something most of us have experienced at some stage in our lives.
I found it to be neither. If anything, I found it rather droll. Let me explain myself thus… I have a lugubrious friend. His name is Mark. Mark is so overly pessimistic and melancholic, that he creases me up with laughter. View all 75 comments. Dec 20, Manny rated it really liked it Shelves: well-i-think-its-funny , too-sexy-for-maiden-aunts , parody-homage , story-review , pooh-dante. The tortured bureaucratic world described in The Trial always strikes me as startlingly modern.
I wondered How The Trial might have started if Kafka had been an academic writing in K's latest conference paper had been rejected, and now he sat in front of his laptop and read through the referees' comments. One of them, evidently not a native speaker of English, had sent a page of well-meaning advice, though K was unsure whether he understood his recommendations.
The second referee had only wri The tortured bureaucratic world described in The Trial always strikes me as startlingly modern. The second referee had only written three lines, in a dismissive tone that hurt K's feelings. K had an appointment with his thesis advisor later that day, and wondered whether it would appear more constructive to rewrite the paper for submission to another conference, or to say that he was drawing a line so that he could concentrate on his dissertation.
He was trying to decide between these two courses of action, neither of which greatly appealed to him, when his officemate arrived. Today, she was also in a bad mood. She sat down and opened her own laptop without saying a word, and typed industriously.
After about twenty minutes, she looked up and sighed. Then, in an uninflected monotone, she read a crude and unimaginatively pornographic passage, to which K listened attentively. She concluded, and opened a spreadsheet. K considered the matter. Would your judgement still be the same? I'm definitely not certain. I need more data. He suddenly realised that he was meant to be seeing his advisor in a quarter of an hour.
Apologising awkwardly, he put on his coat and left. The walk across the campus was, however, shorter than he had remembered, and he arrived in good time. Professor Holz appeared surprised to see him, and K reminded him that they had agreed to meet.
K's advisor was thickset and completely bald, despite only being in his mid-forties. He had a second position at another university, and was rarely to be found in his office; normally K would have been glad to have cornered him and be able to ask for advice, but today he could not think of anything to say. He waited for Professor Holz to take the initiative.
K's advisor seemed equally at a loss. He took off his rimless glasses, and polished them carefully before speaking. He cleared his throat in a way that could be interpreted as assent. He agreed hesitantly, trying to sound as noncommital as he could in case it was a trap. But the professor suddenly looked at his watch and rose, exclaiming that he had forgotten another meeting.
He smiled apologetically to K as he escorted him from the room, and locked the door. It is particularly important that you describe your short-term objectives. The professor disappeared into it, saying something that K was unable to catch. He took the stairs down to street level, and walked slowly back to his office. I'm so glad I've finally turned it in.
I suppose you did yours days ago. I think the new batch of stories is better than usual. Around 4 pm, he received an email reminding him that the progress report was due by the end of the following day.
Twice, she interrupted him with a puzzled air, and pointed out inconsistencies in his answers. K was forced to give her his full attention. When it was time to leave, he had still not begun the report. He tried to muster his ideas as he walked home, and had almost reached his apartment when he realised that he had forgotten his laptop at the office.
View all 38 comments. If, like me, you walk a plain and decent path, the world is probably none too friendly toward you. Figuratively speaking. Welcome to the Absurd. I think that anyone who has lived a highly idiosyncratic life, like Franz Kafka and my own totally colossally unsuperstar self, has in time developed a larger ideological container for their intellectual life. Sorta like quantum mechanics does, for we have come to see the laws and customs of the world under that selfsame Aegis of Absurdity.
And that is the sense in which we appreciate the Rule of Law in this world. Even if should we ourselves should be put in the dock. But, allowing it to be a constant, can we learn to Love it, as being in itself in a state of Absolute momentary transcendence over an Absurd physical universe?
Even if that transcendence means our death? And we ALL have to take the Fire as punishment - now - or later. I could be wrong, but this seems to be the one novel the great hag-ridden Franz Kafka completed. It would give him Closure. And pain. Except now, in the Pain - was Hope. The law of the world is right.
And the universe, in fact. Remember that feeling? Anyone for Hegel? For this is just Hegel rehashed. But a Hegel Redux for postmodernists! You see that in spades in that famous story in which his Dad tells him to jump off the long end of a short pier.
And he does. My way or the highway, kid! As you and I do too. He was finally gonna take the straight and narrow path. Cause it was so right, it was absurd. Did he go ballistic as a result? You bet! Every day of our lives! For the Trial IS our daily workaday grind. We are accused; we are belittled; we are slandered behind our back.
And we go on. We NEED our job. We get enraged. But we go on We let loose on the phone; we harangue our tormentors in our dreams; we get even. We HATE the conditions that are laid out for our life. But law is law. Can we learn, maybe, to follow it in spite of itself?
Not one law at the office, and one law at home and on vacation. One small step And his ultimate faith in the Law as Love. A faith he finally starts to absorb in his last work, America. Yes, the Self - in time and space - answers to the Law.
It hurts! We kick and scream in pure anguish! Agenbite of Inwit. But like him, we DO as we are told. What option do we have? But the Way that opens up to us in our books is really the same long and winding path that leads to the final reconciliation of Law and Love in the total transcendence of our pain. Which Franz chose at the end. Which I believe all started in this simple fork in the road: Where we choose the Way of Obedience.
And He will open it to you. But where it all starts, is in a place we all love to hate: In His Law. A Law that means our Death, and our Life.
View all 10 comments. A Crazy Train All Aboard! No novel comes close to this one in the intensely nightmarish portrayal of the type of dark "justice" of dictatorial governments, particularly those that came to power after its publication. THE TRIAL, also like no other, gives the reader a special, and by all means necessary, appreciation for the criminal justice system and the fundamental rights of life and liberty that we take for granted in a democracy.
Then, when you talk to court workers and even your own lawyer, there may be some nebulous way to avoid prosecution but no one can say exactly what that is and otherwise it's a foregone conclusion that you will be found guilty, your best hope being to drag out the process as long as you can just to stay alive as this crazy train hurtles toward your inevitable end.
A historic classic masterwork that plants in its reader bad-dream seeds that may not germinate for years, but they will View all 16 comments. Oct 06, Lisa rated it it was amazing Shelves: books-to-read-before-you-die. Such is life that some people are convicted of nonexistent crimes while others are elevated to brilliant careers despite evident character deficiencies. Who but Kafka can show the absurdity of "justice" in a world where power trumps reason, and political strength trumps fairness?
Is it only me turning paranoid, or does Kafka become more and more "realistic", as our world turns more and more "kafkaesque"? Maybe the Non-Nobel Prize in Literature this year could go posthumously to all those dystopia Such is life that some people are convicted of nonexistent crimes while others are elevated to brilliant careers despite evident character deficiencies. Maybe the Non-Nobel Prize in Literature this year could go posthumously to all those dystopian, surrealistic writers that saw our world of today before it existed?
A Non-Nobel to Kafka for prophetically writing his Cassandra-call to a blind and deaf-mute humanity! View all 23 comments. Maybe he likes the attractive women there, especially Fraulein Burstner, Josef is a bit of a wolf, then out of the sk Josef K. Maybe he likes the attractive women there, especially Fraulein Burstner, Josef is a bit of a wolf, then out of the sky, two men come to his room and arrest him, the arrogant guards even eat his breakfast, and try to take his good clothes too, the charge, they don't say or know or care!
The uncaring judge thinks he's a house painter, when K. The angry magistrate is powerless to control the boisterous gathering, and after many more such meetings , in rooms with dirty air, which makes the defendant quite sick, Josef in one place, is carried out of the building, to get fresh air, to resuscitate him. Days and weeks pass, Uncle Karl, from the country visits K. Huld, the lawyer has lots of contacts but Huld is a very sick, old man, K. Other men he sees for aid, a painter, merchant, manufacturer and a priest, as his final hope, but nothing can get him off, his unknown perilous path, his darkness increases steadily.
A nightmarish life hits hard the accused , and still no one tells him what crime was committed! The helpless banker feels the power of the State's Bureaucracy and his work at the bank suffers, as a consequence, substantially, it matter not that K.
Will this bad, horrendous dream ever end? The limited rights that any man has against an omniscient , totalitarian government, is shown in this remarkable novel. View all 8 comments. Somebody must have made a false accusation against me, for I was accused of not having read The Trial without having even raised the topic.
I fixed up a brew, poked in a madeleine, and summoned up the liars of recall. I recalled my sixteen-year-old self, in his bedroom in his backwater home town, feasting on Vonnegut, Poe, and Kafka one miserable summer.
I writhed in agony for two days, desperate to prise details of that first reading to appease my accusers. Then I simply checked out The Trial from the library and read the bastard.
There we are. Screw you, memory. View all 5 comments. Jan 27, Samra Yusuf rated it really liked it Shelves: translated. I vividly remember asking my mother at quite earlier in my years, from where do we get babies, did you buy me from god? The corners of her eyes crinkled, she was reddened deep in effort to try not to burst in her husky laughter, I remember her asking me back with her flushed face, and what do you be doing with answer?
I said quite prudently and emphatically, I want to have some. View all 24 comments. Jun 20, Dan Schwent rated it really liked it Shelves: , oldies. On his thirtieth birthday, bank employee Josef K. Yeah, that's a pretty vague teaser but how else do you drag someone into The Trial?
On the surface, The Trial is an absurd legal drama that nicely illustrates how inept bureaucracy can be. However, my little gray cells tell me that's just the tip of the iceberg. The Trial seems to be about how incomprehensible and absurd life can be at times. I don't think it's On his thirtieth birthday, bank employee Josef K. I don't think it's a coincidence that The Trial kicks off on Josef K. Kafka's writing is stripped down but still powerful. Aside from The Metamorphosis , the tone reminds me a bit of G.
Chesteron's The Napoleon of Notting Hill. The book feels like a Monty Python sketch at times. I caught myself grinning on occasion and not really sure if that was the appropriate reaction. The Trial isn't just about Josef's trial, it's also about the trial the trial becomes in Josef's life.
And isn't life just one big trial anyway? The Trial. Case closed. View all 7 comments. First, a quick summary of this horrible, horrible novel. Some jackass gets arrested, he does things you would not do, sees people you would not see and has thoughts you would not have. After that, a priest and a parable then, mercifully, the end.
Now my thoughts. The bureaucrats are the best part of the whole story, all job description, no brains like now! K's uncle, lawyer and landlady are very forgettable. The priest is a tool and his parable made me think I was reading the novelisation of "The Never Ending Story". The ending made me smile, it was the end after all.
Kafka's Trial is one of those books that are always present in cultural sphere and referenced ad nauseum. Despite never having read Kafka before I am quite sure I used the word 'Kafkaesque' on many occasions and maintained a semi-eloquent conversation about 'The Trial'. I could've probably done without ever reading it but recently I resolved to take my literary pursuits seriously and since books seem to be the only thing in this world I truly care for I might as well take it to another level.
There aren't actually any characters that take any human shape. There is no conflict or resolution and the only epiphany is the one you might or might not have at the end of it. Truth be told, 'The Trial' is nothing but an allegory. An allegory of what is up to you to decide.
I think I interpret it on the most universal level and see The Trial as a symbol of human existence. We don't know why we are here, how it is going to end and even what the rules of the game are.
Yet, we take this frustrating journey trying to make sense of it, comforted by little meaningless bogus victories that fool us into believing some progress has been made.
We long ago learnt that the 'actual acquittal' is unattainable but we refuse to give up. This is how I see it.
However, many literary critics and other smart people see it differently and that is their prerogative. There is, for example, a quite interesting theory that 'The Trial' was born as an inmediate result of the break-up of Kafka's engagement to Felice Bauer.
Felice Bauer was, one might say, an uncomplicated woman. She was Kafka's muse and his anchor in the reality. Kafka needed her to write and to stay sane.
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