Kafka's The Trial is a great novel that really resonates with me. It seems incomplete, as my version has a series of fragmented chapters at the end that could add more to the novel, but don't require it. The book is undeniably existentialist, and the networks and mechanisms of control that pervade all of the characters' lives are palpable. Nothing makes any sense to anyone, although they all pretend like it does.

The crux of the matter, and the over-arching message, seems that it can be found in the Parable of the Law, in the penultimate chapter. The door was open to the man the whole time, but he wouldn't enter it because of the doorkeeper's presence. The doorkeeper merely told him that he couldn't right now. The doorkeeper's mere statement was a control mechanism keeping the established order in place. The man from the country could have said "fuck it" and walked through. Neither K. nor the priest seriously ask why he didn't walk through the door--they quibble over personalities, who is deceiving who, how the law works, and so on. But, the man could have literally just entered the Law.

The quibbling reminds me of my own life--whether "out there" or inside of myself. There's so many discussions and thoughts about why or why I don't do what I want. There's the constant pressure to explain, to justify, to defend, and so on. It's as if my whole life is on trial. But, I could just do them.

Did you see the "as if" statement in the last paragraph? Kafka uses a ton of them, to hilarious effect. Kafka is funny, and he makes a mockery of us all.

Anyways, I'll end with a final quote.

"'No,' said the priest, 'you don't have to consider everything true, you just have to consider it necessary.' 'A depressing opinion,' said K. 'Lies are made into universal systems.'"