‎دوستانِ گرانقدر، این نمایشنامه از 130 صفحه تشکیل شده است و میتوان گفت زنده یاد «کافکا» در دلِ این داستان، اشاره هایی به "اکسپرسیونیسم" آلمان نیز داشته است
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‎شخصیت اصلی داستان «ژُزف کا» یا «جوزف ک» نام دارد... «کا» را بی آنکه گناهی مرتکب شده باشد و یا کارِ نادرستی کرده باشد، بازداشت میکنند... او کارمندِ بانک و انسانی آرام است و حتی به بازداشت شدن و دادگاهی شدنش نیز اعتراض نمیکند... «ژزف کا» را باید درک کرد، خیلی دشوار و آزار دهنده است که ندانی به چه جرمی محاکمه میشوی و سرنوشتت را چه کسانی رقم میزنند... ندانی جرمت چیست ولی با وکیل هایِ گوناگون در آن مورد سخن بگویی و از آنها مشورت بخواهی و جالب است که نظراتِ وکیل هایی که با آنها سخن میگویی در آن رابطه با یکدیگر یکسان نباشد و شما به سردرگمی دچار شوید و بدانید در موردِ شما تمامی اصولها و قوانین زیرِ پا گذاشته شده است و جالبتر آن است که بازرس به «کا» میگوید: برایِ اصول نگران نباش، دیگران هستند که نمایندۀ آن باشند
‎خلاصه، «ژزف کا» دورانِ محکومیتش را سپری کرده و آزاد میشود.. ولی چه آزاد شدنی!! بهتر است بگوییم دورانِ تازه ای از اسارتش آغاز میشود.. مأمورانی ناشناس با لباس هایی عجیب به سراغِ «کا» آمده و آنقدر او را آزار و شکنجه میدهند، بلکه به کارِ اشتباه و گناهِ ناکردهٔ خویش اعتراف کرده و آن را بپذیرد
‎آیا این انسانهایِ ناشناس، واقعی هستند!؟ یا آنکه «کا» این شخصیت ها را در ذهنش ساخته است!! مأمورانی که لباس عجیب بر تن دارند او را به حومهٔ شهر برده و .............. عزیزانم، بهتر است خودتان این داستان را خوانده و از سرانجامِ آن آگاه شوید
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‎پنجرۀ یک خانه در دوردست، روشن میشود... «کا»، سر بر میدارد و دستهایش را دراز میکند، آیا برایِ او این علامتی است؟ بشارتِ یک کمکِ غیرِ منتظر؟.... اما نور خاموش میشود و بازوانِ «کا» فرو می افتد، شبیهِ حرکتِ بیهودۀ کسی که غرق میشود
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‎امیدوارم از خواندنِ این نمایشنامه لذت ببرید و این ریویو در جهتِ شناختِ این کتاب، کافی و مفید بوده باشه
‎<پیروز باشید و ایرانی>

Quintessential Kafka, apparently prompted by an unexpected interrogation in a Berlin hotel room re his intentions re Felice, conducted by her and a couple of friends.

Officials of a vague and unspecified court arrest K for an unspecified crime - but he never queries the charge. An endless stream of futile investigations and obscure legal practices ensue. A metaphor for exploring the meaning (or otherwise) of life, the burden of duty, and struggling to find salvation aided by the intercessions of dubious religions/priests?

K’s helplessness is emphasised on occasions such as when he physically collapsed (at the law offices), when he can't understand an Italian dialect, and when the cathedral gets dark in the middle of the day.

Kafka was a fan of Dostoyevsky, and there are clear echoes of Crime & Punishment, which I reviewed HERE.

Two chapters, Before the Law (my review HERE) and The Dream, were published separately in a collection of short stories known as A Country Doctor (my review HERE), which was then published with The Metamorphosis (my review HERE).

See my Kafka-related bookshelf for other works by and about Kafka: HERE.

“No," said the priest, "you don't need to accept everything as true, you only have to accept it as necessary." "Depressing view," said K. "The lie made into the rule of the world.”



Reading Franz Kafka's The Trial is a frustrating experience, but that's at least partially the point. Our protagonist, Josef K is arrested, but neither he nor the reader know why he's been arrested. The remaining narrative is a sort of judgment on all the decisions he's made. Although he is 'free' for most of the novel, K's trial consumes all his time, and he is locked in a course of events over which he has little or no control.

How are we to judge K's trial? Indeed, K's entire ordeal is impossible to come to grips with. The process of the trial playing out even if it is not outwardly 'in session' and K's own processing of events, forces us to recognize that our decisions are consequential. Even decisions that don't seem significant. This is especially apparent at the end of the novel (which brings us to a sort of tragic anticlimactic climax). It's difficult to determine if such an end is inevitable, or, for that matter, whether K's fate is for him alone or for all of us.

Ξυπνάς ένα πρωί και σε περιμένουν δύο κουστουμαρισμένοι για να σου πουν ότι συλλαμβάνεσαι! Γιατί; Δε ξέρεις. Έτσι είναι ο Νόμος, τι να κάνουμε; Ποίος είναι αυτός ο Νόμος; Γιατί κανείς δεν αντιστέκεται; Γιατί όλοι, απαθείς, αφήνονται και "παραδίνονται" απέναντι σε ένα απάνθρωπο, κλειστοφοβικό σύστημα;
Ο Κ., ένας άξεστος και αντιπαθητικός (σε πολλά σημεία) χαρακτήρας, προσπαθεί λυσσαλέα να βρει το δίκιο του και να αθωωθεί απέναντι στις ανύπαρκτες κατηγορίες, αλλά το σύστημα έχει τον τρόπο του να σε φθείρει ψυχολογικά και πνευματικά, και στο τέλος να σε πατάει σαν μία κατσαρίδα!

Ο συγγραφέας διάβασα πως είχε πολύ προβληματική παιδική ηλικία και ιδιαίτερα κακή σχέση με τον πατέρα του, ο οποίος μια φορά για να τον τιμωρήσει τον σήκωσε από το κρεβάτι του και τον κλείδωσε εκτός σπιτιού, στο κρύο. Πώς λοιπόν ένας τέτοιος άνθρωπος να μη δημιουργεί κόσμους εφιαλτικούς, κόσμους που όλοι μας, έστω και για μία στιγμή της ζωής μας, μας φάνηκαν οικείοι;

Το βιβλίο το κατατάσσω στην ίδια κατηγορία με το 1984 και το Λάθος. Για κάποιο λόγο οι κόσμοι τους έχουν πολλά κοινά. Εφιαλτικοί, απάνθρωποι, άδικοι, αποξενωμένοι. Κοινωνίες τόσο μακρινές, αλλά συγχρόνως και τόσο κοντινές στις δικές μας...

Υ.Γ. Κάτι σημαντικό που ξέχασα να αναφέρω στο αρχικό κείμενο. Η συγκεκριμένη έκδοση που διάβασα περιείχε πολλά λάθη και το αποκορύφωμα, 10 κενές (ναι, ολόλευκες) σελίδες! Αποφύγετέ την εάν είναι δυνατόν.

Για ακόμη μια φορά καταλαβαίνω γιατί ο Κάφκα είναι ένα μοναδικό λογοτεχνικό φαινόμενο. Είναι ένας συγγραφέας ο οποίος μπορεί να δημιουργήσει εικόνες στο μυαλό του αναγνώστη που είναι βγαλμένες από τους χειρότερους εφιάλτες μας, δημιουργώντας παράλληλα ένα πνιγερό κλίμα που επηρεάζει τόσο τους βασικούς του χαρακτήρες όσο και τον ίδιο τον αναγνώστη.
Διαβάζοντας την Δίκη σε κυριεύει ένα αίσθημα ότι ακροβατείς σε ένα σχοινί. Ότι ανά πάσα στιγμή μπορεί να χάσεις την ισορροπία σου και να βρεθείς στο κενό. Ακριβώς όπως ο Γιόζεφ Κ. Ένας ανώτερος τραπεζικός υπάλληλος ο οποίος χωρίς να το καταλάβει έμπλεξε στα γρανάζια ενός τερατώδους δικαστικού κυκλώματος καλούμενος να αντιμετωπίσει μια κατηγορία η οποία μοιάζει περισσότερο με κατάρα .

Κι ενώ αρχικά ο Κ. θεωρεί πως εύκολα θα αποδείξει την αθωότητα του, όσο προχωράει το βιβλίο καταλαβαίνει πως όχι απλώς έχει παγιδευτεί σε ένα δαιδαλώδες γραφειοκρατικό σύστημα αλλά και πως σταδιακά γίνεται ένας καταραμένος και απόβλητος άνθρωπος. Το παράλογο και το ονειρικό στοιχείο κυριαρχεί από την πρώτη σελίδα του αναγνώσματος. Χαρακτήρες διάφοροι συναντάν τον Κ.. Συνήγοροι, δικαστές, ανακριτές, μαστιγωτές, κληρικοί και καλλιτέχνες. Όλοι γρανάζια μιας μηχανής που έχει σκοπό να συνθλίψει εν τέλει την ύπαρξη του.
Στα 3 τελευταία κεφάλαια κορυφώνεται η αγωνία και ο εφιάλτης μέχρι να φτάσει το σχεδόν αναπόφευκτο τέλος του ανθρωπάκου.
Ο Γιόζεφ Κ. όπως και ο ίδιος ο Κάφκα δεν είναι ούτε αθώος ούτε ένοχος. Πουθενά μέσα σε όλο το βιβλίο δεν διαφαίνεται καθαρά ούτε η ενοχή αλλά ούτε και η αθωότητα του πρωταγωνιστή. Είναι όμως ενοχικός. Κι αυτό είναι αδιαμφισβήτητο. Ο πατέρας του Κάφκα αλλά και ο εργασιακός του κύκλος του είχαν δημιουργήσει ενοχές και ανασφάλειες που φρόντιζε να τις τονίζει μέσω των ηρώων του.

Η Δίκη σαν βιβλίο έχει ερμηνευθεί ποικιλοτρόπως. Σαν κραυγή κατά του αντισημιτισμού, σαν μανιφέστο ενός αναρχικού, σαν κατηγορώ προς τον Νόμο και την γραφειοκρατία. Νομίζω δεν είναι τίποτα από τα παραπάνω. Απλά είναι ένα παράθυρο στο σκοτεινό κόσμο του Φράντς Κάφκα. Έναν κόσμο με μυστικές πόρτες, σκοτεινά δωμάτια και ιδιόμορφους χαρακτήρες.
Συγκλονιστικό από την αρχή έως το τέλος!

5/5!

WHAT IS THIS SHIT.

I have read many reviews and saw that I belong to the minority who just didn’t like or get this book.

Like the author, I am going to leave The Trial unfinished and surrender to the fact that, unfortunately, Franz Kafka’s writing is way too bizarre, inane and unrealistic for my tastes.

The protagonist, a pretentious banker named Josef K. woke up one morning to find two strangers in his room who told him he was under arrest. The reason for his conviction is never revealed and even the officers who came to deliver the news are uniformed.
In the next chapters, we follow K. in a series of encounters that are ground for meaningless and empty discussions with various characters that seldom reappear throughout the story and don’t seem to have an efficient role in the progress of the narrative.
K’s so-called quest to seek answers and vindicate his name turn out to be futile as he never musters enough courage or audacity to extract definite answers and instead, allows his complacency to let him act in a way that harms him more than it helps him in his case.
(I especially loved how almost every female character seem to want him, which feeds his arrogance all the more)

For a year, Josef K awaits a trial that never happens; he’s never told the reason behind his criminal charge and the ultimate zenith of befuddlement comes with K’s death that is also underdone in mystifying circumstances. Nothing is explained or elucidated and yet people seem to abundantly laud Kafka for an unfinished, miserable excuse for a novel which the author himself wanted to be burned posthumously.

It really saddens me ‘cause after hearing copious praise for Kafka, the anticipation upon starting this novel was great and I was eager to be acquainted with his “genius”, but my high expectations were annihilated by an immense disappointment.

The Trial is among the most disturbing books I’ve laid eyes on to this day. It was an excruciating experience from which my brain cells are still suffering aftershocks. The atmosphere of the novel was so odd and gruesome; the rooms with low ceilings and stuffy, fetid offices made me feel like I’m having a bizarre nightmare. (Well, at least it’s better than his other unfinished book about a man metamorphosed into an insect).

Kafka intentionally delineated an inhuman world inflicted with the depravity of the law (which is ironic because Kafka was a lawyer himself). And when you finally finish this story of 200ish pages (but you feel like it’s 2000, I don’t know how Kafka managed to do that), you’re supposed to be in a state of awe ‘cause it’s so fucking deep and philosophical, aiming to depict life and the big fat interrogation point behind our existence and its purpose.


Well. That was a waste of time. Max Brod should’ve listened to Kafka and set fire to his manuscripts. There, I said it.

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 dystopian, surrealistic writers that saw our world of today before it existed? To Kafka, Orwell and Borges - from the Swedish Non-Academy, convulsively in the Process of Metamorphosis to Kafka's bugs? A Non-Nobel to Kafka for prophetically writing his Cassandra-call to a blind and deaf-mute humanity!

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.

'The Trial' does not have any plot to speak of and character development is non-existent. 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. What Felice got out of the affair is unclear as her letters didn't survive. No doubt, it must have been frustrating as Kafka's idea of love was definitely not a healthy one. Their relationship consituted mostly of letters and occasional meetings which made Kafka the happiest just after they were over. He did finally propose to Felice but emphasized he would be a rather rubbish husband as he was simply not cut out for family life. And so it went on. If anyone felt like they were on an endless, incomprehensible trial, it was, in my opinion, Felice. But, of course, Franz maintains it was him - because finally Felice's friends and relatives decided to put an end to it, called Kafka in, forced him to knock it off and leave the poor girl alone. That meeting/interrogation was his 'trial'.

Now, I don't want to entertain this theory because if it is true, I would have to reduce the rating for 'Trial' to some 2-3 stars and put it on my 'brats' shelf I have for selfish, woe-is-me individuals acting like brats.

I prefer to stick to the human-existence allegory which I find quite moving in its Weltschmertz way.

If you are interested in further reading on the subject, check John Banville's article about Kafka's Trial and his affair with Fraulein Bauer here:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/...

You can also find fictionalised (by Francine Prose) letter from Felice Bauer to Kafka in this collection of invented love letters : Four Letter Word: Invented Correspondence from the Edge of Modern Romance. The letter is written by Felice long after Kafka's death and basically asserts that Kafka was a dick.

YouTube kitap kanalımda Kafka kitaplarını daha bilinçli okuyabilmeniz için hazırladığım okuma rehberi videomu izleyebilirsiniz:
https://youtu.be/VC6JxCLzwNI

18 Şubat 2017 tarihli incelemem :

Paranoyaklık üst seviyede! Geliyor birileri sabah hiçbir şey yokken kapınızı çalıyor. Aa yoksa siz ayakkabı aldınız da kargonuzun geldiğini falan mı sandınız? Yok öyle bir dünya. Karşınızda hiç de önceden görmediğiniz hatta mahallenizde bile görmediğiniz adamlar. Ne yapabilirsiniz ki? Dilenciye bile kapını açmazsın. Bu adamlara niye açma isteği duyarsın ki? İşte senin davan bu. Senin davan burada başlıyor. O adamlar senin nefsin ve sen o kapıyı açana kadar da orada duracaklar. Sen ne kadar o adamları ve davanı düşünürsen o kadar bu davanın içine gireceksin ve çıkamayacaksın. Ne kadar da Truman Show'vari bir dünya değil mi ama!

Dava size nasıl kaçacağınızı öğretmez. Kaçamazsınız da zaten. O merak dürtüsü yok mu o merak dürtüsü. Sizi yiyip bitirir. Bir bakarsınız sizden yukarıda olan insanların odasından çıkarken onların size karşı öksürdüğünü ve size yukarıdan baktığını görürsünüz. Budur sizin davanız, neden o insanlar yukarıdayken ben aşağıdayım diye kafanızı yiyip bitirirsiniz. Sen o kafayı yiyip bitirene kadar davan da seni bekler oralarda bir yerde. Aslında dava da hem her zaman vardır hem de hiçbir zaman yoktur. İsteyen ve onla tanışmak için can atan kimseler için bu böyle değil midir zaten? Kapına kargo gelmesini beklerken böyle adamların gelmesini nasıl açıklayabilirdin ki annene? Normal bir gün olacağını sanıp camış gibi koltuğunda yatıp Whatsapp'ta arkadaşlarınla grup sohbeti yapacağın yerde senin davanı hatırlatıp sana "Tutuklusunuz, bundan başka bir şey bilmiyoruz." diyecek adamlar olsa senin tepkin ne olurdu sanki?

Dava, sizin davanız efendiler. Bu kitap yazılmasaydı bu davadan habersiz kalacaktık. Zira bu dava hep içimizde, bizi her gün yiyip bitiriyor kapımıza gelmese de.

25 Şubat 2019 tarihli incelemem :

Yukarıda yazdıklarıma bakıyorum da aslında bu kitap hakkında hiçbir şey yazmamışım. Çünkü ne Kafka'nın durmadan olayları hayırlı bir sonuca ulaştırmak için çabalamasındansa kaçıp kurtulmak istediğimiz meselenin içine bizi gömmesinden, ne resmi makam hiyerarşilerini insana kasvet verici bir şekilde anlatmasından, ne de bir hedefin olup yolun net olmamasından -yani yolun bir tereddütten ibaret olmasından- bahsetmemişim.

Evet, doğrudur. Kafka beni büyüten yazarlardan biridir. Dava, Kafka macerasına atıldığım ilk kitaptı. O güne kadar hiç böyle bir yazarla karşılaşmamıştım, çünkü onun kitaplarına roman deyip geçmek saygısızlık olurdu. Dava, Kafka'nın, insanı tereddütler silsilelerinin birleşimiyle tanımlayan ve hedefi belli fakat yolu olmayan bir karışımıdır. Kafka, bu romanda bir insan kimyageridir ve içinde olup biten sorgulama buhranlarının oranlarını çok iyi bildiğini size net bir şekilde yansıtır.

Şato kitabından farklı olarak Dava'da daha olumsuz ve distopik bir senaryo vardır. Dava = 1984 olsaydı, Şato = Cesur Yeni Dünya olurdu. Çünkü Cesur Yeni Dünya gibi Şato'da da her zaman bir olumlama bulunmaktadır. Fakat Dava'da olayların içine daha fazla gömülünür. Kafka, bu romanda bir mezarcıdır ve ponçik sonuçlara ulaştırmak yerine sizin mezarınızı daha çok kazar.

Dönüşüm kitabından farklı olarak Dava'da sürekli bir "id" basamağında kısılı kalmış bir adamdan bahsedilir. "Ego"suna geçmemesi gerektiği istenen, halkın sıradan ve sorgulamayan insanlardan biridir K. İsmi bile sıkça söylenmez, sahi Kafka zaten karakterlerinin toplum içindeki yerlerinin hiyerarşiler içerisinde bulanıklaştığının çok iyi farkındadır. Kafka, bu romanda bir Kafka psikolojik buhranlar hiyerarşisi piramidi kılığına bürünür ve alt basamaktan üst basamaklara kadar insanın buhranlarını tanımlar. Piramidin taşlarını kendi elleriyle tek tek koyan da yine toplumun kendisidir.

La prima volta che mi sono accostato a Kafka ho incontrato storie quasi paradossali. Poi, tentando di rinvenirne un filo logico, ho scoperto la storia di un uomo che, contraddistinto da natura e sentire profondamente particolari, per quanto si produca in accurate analisi, mai riesce a vedere il contesto circostante se non come un insieme di situazioni e personaggi grotteschi e incomprensibili. Ho sempre visto gli eroi di Kafka sforzarsi di far parte di quanto li circonda, ma mai sacrificando la propria individualità. Talora han vinti. Talora han perso. Ma non si sono mai arresi.

when you’re arriving to a yapping competition but your opponent is Kafka in this novel

yeah i get it bureaucracy sucks but bro kept going and going the fact that it sucks doesn’t explain why i needed to get the message in this disconnected, raw and all over the place form
i mean if you’re going to publish someone’s work without his permission after his death and all, you MIGHT as well idk, edit it a little, take out some redundant parts, make it coherent or something? publishing this draft was definitely a decision

unfortunately this was possibly the first time where i kind of understood why some people don’t like to read classics and find them boring or hard to get through.

to its credit, some parts at the end were interesting, the allegory is clever, some takes along the lines were true and presented somewhat wittily, and the criticism is very needed sure. the legal system is tedious (almost like this book) overly complicated, dragged and unjust but man still it didn’t mean it had to be brought to us in a boring, yawning, sloppy way. i couldn’t even excuse it to myself and say that this is the point because it’s not relevant details used in specific ways on purpose but rather just a messy disorganised unfinished work.

although it wasn’t the biggest iniquity i’ve ever seen and he might be dead please never write women ever again. more and more of them spawning poorly weirdly written with no actual significance to the plot AND general misogyny? nauseating, completely useless and irksome. a disappointment on this aspect but oh well i guess i should’ve imagined

pre review:
I DID IT i’m so happy i’m not carrying this book with me to the new year sorry but GOOD RIDDANCE that was A CHORE

Συγκλονιστικός ο Κάφκα και ακόμα πιο συγκλονιστικό το ζοφερό καφκικό σύμπαν. Βασικά στοιχεία του σύμπαντος αυτού: οι ενοχές και οι αμφιβολίες σε μια δουλικά οργανωμένη και ιεραρχημένη κοινωνία.

Το βιβλίο έχει μια από τις πιο επικές ενάρξεις: ‘’Κάποιος πρέπει να είπε ψέματα για τον Γιόζεφ Κ., γιατί ένα πρωινό, δίχως να έχει κάνει τίποτα κακό, ήρθαν και τον συνέλαβαν’’.

Μια αόρατη κατηγορία πλανάται γύρω από τον Κ. Όλοι φαίνεται κάτι να γνωρίζουν μα να μην έχουν ξεκάθαρη απάντηση για τίποτα. Οι αμήχανες συζητήσεις διακόπτονται από ξαφνικές εναλλαγές σκηνικών, από ύπουλα βλέμματα γεμάτα υπονοούμενα και αινιγματικά χαμόγελα. Ένα παράπλευρο δικαστικό δίκτυο, ενσωματωμένο στη συνείδηση των ανθρώπων, που υφαίνεται, σαν ιστός αράχνης, σε ψηλές, ξύλινες σοφίτες με πνιγηρή ατμόσφαιρα, δαιδαλώδεις διαδρόμους και δυσεύρετες εξόδους διαφυγής. Φανταστείτε ένα χαμστερ σε μια ρόδα να κινείται αέναα προς την αναζήτηση της πολυπόθητης αλήθειας και της δικαιοσύνης. Με λίγα λόγια μια σπουδή στο παράλογο, ένας καλοστημένος, κλειστοφοβικός εφιάλτης από αυτούς που ξυπνάς και νομίζεις πως έχεις πυρετό.

Η κατηγορία τον βαραίνει μα δεν τον ισοπεδώνει. Δεν μπαίνει ποτέ στη φυλακή κι ας είναι ένοχος για κάτι. Ζει όμως με το στίγμα του κατηγορούμενου καθώς όλοι γνωρίζουν πως για κάτι κατηγορείται. Η κατηγορία λειτουργεί σαν μια αόρατη δύναμη που δε θέλει να σε τιμωρήσει αν συμμορφωθείς με τους όρους που σου θέτει, αρκεί να γνωρίζεις πως είναι υπαρκτή και είναι εκεί για να σε τσακίσει κάθε φορά που πας να της αντισταθείς.

Και ποια είναι τελοσπάντων αυτή η κατηγορία που βαραίνει τον Κ. και στην τελική και όλους εμάς; Και μόνο που υπάρχουμε σαν άτομα και όχι σαν μάζα, σαν ξεχωριστές αυτόνομες προσωπικότητες με ελεύθερη βούληση, που σκέφτονται και δε δρουν σαν άβουλα όντα, μπορεί να θεωρηθεί κατηγορία για τους ακριβοδίκαιους ρυθμιστές της κοινωνίας με τους ανελέητους θεσμούς τους, για τους οποίους δεν είμαστε κάτι άλλο από απλούς αριθμούς. Χρήσιμα εργαλεία σε ορισμένες περιπτώσεις, αλλά και επικίνδυνα ζιζάνια που απειλούν την κυριαρχία τους σε άλλες.

Αγαπημένο κεφάλαιο το ‘’Στη Μητρόπολη’’ όπου ο Κ. συζητάει με έναν ιερέα σε έναν γοτθικό καθεδρικό ναό και ο ιερέας του διηγείται μια ιστορία με έναν χωρικό. Θεωρώ πως εκεί περικλείεται η ουσία του βιβλίου. Σε κάποια στιγμή γίνεται ο εξής διάλογος:
Λέει ο Κ.: ‘’Αν τη δεχτεί κανείς, είναι αναγκασμένος να θεωρήσει πως όσα λέει ο φύλακας είναι αληθινά, πράγμα που δε στέκει, εσύ ο ίδιος το απέδειξες προηγουμένως’’.
‘’Όχι’’ είπε ο ιερέας. ‘’Δεν είμαστε αναγκασμένοι να τα θεωρήσουμε σαν αληθινά, αλλά σαν αναγκαία’’.
‘’Θλιβερό συμπέρασμα’’ είπε ο Κ. ‘’Τότε το ψέμα γίνεται παγκόσμιος νόμος’’….

Υ.Γ: Στενάχωρο το ότι ο Κάφκα πέθανε χωρίς να αναγνωρίζει την ίδια του την αξία λόγω των ενοχικών συνδρόμων που του είχε δημιουργήσει ο πατέρας του. Ακόμα πιο στενάχωρο πόσοι ακόμα ‘’Κάφκα’’ έχουν υπάρξει, που γεμάτοι αμφιβολίες και ανασφάλειες έκρυβαν τα αριστουργήματά τους μέσα σε συρτάρια, μη γνωρίζοντας ότι κάθονται πάνω σε ιδέες που μπορούν να αλλάξουν τον κόσμο. Και που δυστυχώς δεν είχαν έναν Μαξ Μπροντ για φίλο και έτσι εμείς χάσαμε τη δυνατότητα να διαβάσουμε τις σκέψεις τους...