Wednesday 4 April 2012

Review of The Trial by Franz Kafka

The Trial

Author:              Franz Kafka
Reviewed by:    J Phani Mahesh

The Trial, English translation of Der Process, happens to be the first book by Kafka that I read. The very first impression from the first few pages was- this probably is a children’s book. The narrative was similar to the tone we find in fairy tales. Very soon, I realized my mistake. This is a book that cant be read as a simple pastime. It demands certain attention and thought from the reader.

Context: (Source: Wikipedia and Sparknotes)

           Franz Kafka (1883-1924) was born in Prague. Kafka’s father was the fourth son of a ritual slaughterer, with very little education but high ambitions. He established himself as a successful retailer of fancy goods and married the daughter of a wealthy brewery owner. Kafka was the first born, followed by two brothers who died in infancy, and three sisters. Kafka had a bitter experience of his childhood. In the letter to his father, Kafka complained of being troubled by his father’s authoritarian and demanding character. His writings depict a sense of alienation and disoriented anxiety.
       The sense of hopelessness and absurdity that is seen in his writings can be interpreted in a diverse multitude of ways. We can consider it a satire on bureaucracy, I consider it subtle humor.

The book:

        From the very beginning, there is a sense of unknown. To the extent that the main character of the book, was referred throughout as just Mr K. The reader is not informed whether a crime has at all been committed, let alone the nature of crime. A natural sense of curiosity led me forward.
        There were characters that appear just for a while, make the reader expect something of them, but are totally ignored immediately after the introductory stages, like Fraulein Burstner, and the court usher’s wife. Women develop interest in K., and the way sexual encounters are presented makes me wonder if women of lower-class were treated as such or the women took advantage of what would otherwise be not allowed by the society.
         The court, which seems to extend its influence to an extent that it ordered flogging be carried out in the storeroom of K’s bank, still operated in a suffocating, dark environment. All the scenes involving the court, even remotely, were characterized by enclosures, dark, suffocating, tight spaces, and this can not be seen as a mere coincidence. It was probably intended to depict the courts’ ways as lowly, corrupt, and its ways dark and unknown.
              I can not but laugh at the fate of Mr K, pitiful it may seem, yet the direction very clear since beginning, the way it is presented with a sense of vagueness, yet carrying a certain air of authority, and at times funny.
           Mr K was, in a way, tortured by the unreachable authority, just like air, extending its presence and power everywhere, but impossible to get hold of. The weight of the trial, mixed with the no-progress of lawyers, comments from painter,etc that acquittal is impossible, and all that could be hoped is for indefinite postponement, and K having to consider himself the reason for rather unnecessary flogging of the two court employees, it was all a psychological torture, coupled with stress. This is probably a satire on the way law operated at those times. The story of doorkeeper and farmer by Priest is open to interpretation. I see it as a satire, simple yet strong, on the bureaucratic ways of the then government and/or law.
               The book was incomplete in many ways. For example, the author faintly hints that K. underwent a lot of stress, but mentions nothing of what has happened during the long gap between dismissal of Lawyer and K.’s execution.
             The description of K.’s death, ‘like a dog’, is surely not meant to evoke pity. It probably is a call to the reader to think; but considering the fact that Kafka willed his writings to be burned unread (Source), a wish that was ignored by his friend, Max Brod; I consider it remotely possible. It still leaves me thinking. There’s just one thing that can be said of Kafka. He’s an Enigma in himself.

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