or killed. At that time, Germany expressed outrage and offered asylum to many. One million Jews escaped the pogroms and sought refuge in New York City.

Kafka’s Works
Despite being written during wartime, Kafka’s writings do not rely on contemporary events. Kafka’s artistic goal was to craft timeless parables about the human experience. Except for references to gas lamps, the novel contains few details that can date it. For instance, clothing is described in terms of function and condition rather than fashion. The scenario of a man involved in financial dealings being scrutinized by a court could occur in any era. This timeless nature has inspired countless artists to adopt Kafka’s style. Many interpret Kafka’s novels as a forewarning of totalitarianism, suggesting he predicted an age of secret courts and death squads.

Parable
Parables are well-known teaching tools that convey moral lessons through brief and straightforward narratives. Their simplicity grants them a timeless nature, making parables from millennia ago still pertinent today. Parables can also be mysterious sayings or stories that clearly carry a message, though the exact interpretation may vary. Kafka deliberately wrote parables, in addition to novels, to explore the human condition. The Trial is a parable that incorporates the smaller parable of the Gatekeeper. There is a clear connection between the two, but the precise interpretation of each parable is left to the reader. K. and the Priest discuss the numerous possible interpretations. Both the short parable and their conversation suggest that the reader is like the man at the gate; there is a unique meaning in the story for everyone, just as each person has their own gate to the Law.

Defamiliarization
The Russian formalist Viktor Shklovski coined the term ostranenie in his 1917 article, “Art as Device.” In the West, this concept has been adopted as defamiliarization or more popularly, through Bertold Brecht, as “the alienation effect.” Independently of both, Kafka employs defamiliarization with unmatched skill. This technique makes the reader or audience perceive familiar, everyday reality in a new and unsettling way, hence the term “defamiliarization.” The artist aims for this to result in a renewed appreciation or reconsideration of the norm by the perceiver.

The world is depicted in a strange manner so that the viewer experiences things as if for the first time. Shklovski envisions the device operating in artwork on three levels. First, at the level of language, words or linguistic rhythms not typically associated with each other can be combined to reveal new meanings (examples can be found in the poetry of the Dadaists or the work of John Cage). Second, at the level of content, accepted concepts and ideas are distorted to offer new perspectives on the human condition. Lastly, at the level of literary forms, traditional standards are abandoned, and subliterary genres (such as detective and crime stories) are elevated to high art.

Kafka achieves defamiliarization on all three levels with a crime story in which the suspect's reality becomes so distorted that it borders on the absurd. The story's language remains precise, even when it circumvents the key to understanding. As a result, the fundamental concept of law is newly perceived. On the linguistic level, Kafka uses words like “assault,” “guilt,” and “trial” in various contexts, making their meanings interchangeable and just as effective.

Kafka provides a clear example of using everyday understandings to make the familiar seem strange through the tools used by the Inspector. The Inspector goes to great lengths to make K.’s arrest appear official, rearranging a bedroom to resemble a courtroom in the same way a child might arrange furniture to play house. Instead of using a gavel and a law book, the Inspector uses a random book, a pincushion, and matches. Kafka then maintains an ongoing atmosphere of doubt by paying meticulous attention to wording. Phrases like, “could he really rely so little on his own judgment already?” serve as double entendres, referring both to K.'s verbal slip with the Manufacturer and the greater judgment he anticipates.

Symbolism
Every aspect of the story is laden with allegorical meaning. The position and size of bodies symbolize a person’s value before the Law. Court officials sit with their heads pressed against the ceiling of an attic, symbolizing their closeness to heaven. In contrast, an arrested person hangs their head, while a strong and free individual stands tall and erect. Furniture enhances this body language. K. notes whether there are chairs for him to sit on, highlighting how this diminishes his power.

K. awakens, much like Adam, from sleep in the familiar comfort of his bedroom, waiting for Anna. Instead of Anna, he finds himself under arrest by guards from a department that does not seek the guilty but, “as the law states, is attracted by guilt and has to send us guards out.” After wandering around the room, he returns to his bed and eats an apple—the allegorical fruit from the tree of knowledge—thus becoming aware of his trial. The apple signifies original sin, and consuming it ends his innocence.

Tone
One of Kafka’s strengths is his consistent use of atmosphere. He employs a clear prose style throughout. Even when Dr. Huld explains the complexities of the law, the sentence structure remains straightforward. Rooms are meticulously described concerning where air may enter and the potential risk of soot and dust to the human lung. Kafka's use of shadows and obscurity compels both K. and the reader to pay closer attention. Shadows are given an almost intelligent quality, as they seem to deliberately obscure K.’s view.

One frequently discussed aspect of Kafka's fiction is his use of parables—short stories that, when interpreted, reveal the deeper meaning of the larger narrative they inhabit. Extending this idea, Kafka's longer works, such as The Trial, can be seen not only as containing parables but also as being extended parables themselves. This technique underscores the primary purpose behind the obscurity of Kafka's plots and the ambiguity of his characters: to encourage, or even compel, readers to interpret his writings. To achieve this, Kafka crafted open-ended, intricate, and often fragmented stories. Interestingly, he regarded those tales with more conventional "endings," like The Metamorphosis (1915), as flawed because they allowed for straightforward, singular interpretations.

One method Kafka uses to foster interpretive engagement is the tension he creates between Joseph K.'s perspective and that of the narrator, who is both connected to and able to see beyond Joseph K. This dynamic grants readers a privileged vantage point, enabling them to observe and assess the vision and inconsistencies between the two viewpoints.

In Franz Kafka's novel, The Trial, the settings play a pivotal role in illustrating the surreal and oppressive nature of protagonist Joseph K.'s predicament. Each location symbolizes the arbitrary and invasive nature of the judicial system he faces. From urban landscapes to intimate personal spaces, the settings underscore the themes of alienation and helplessness that permeate Joseph K.'s life.

City

The unnamed city forms a backdrop that accentuates the mundane existence of Joseph K., a regular citizen living in a sprawling, industrialized environment. This setting highlights the randomness of his arrest and trial, suggesting that anyone could be swept into the convoluted legal machinery without warning. The city's anonymity and vastness contribute to a sense of disorientation and unpredictability, reinforcing the absurdity of the judicial proceedings K. encounters.

Frau Grubach’s Boardinghouse

Joseph K.'s residence at Frau Grubach’s boardinghouse becomes the stage for the bewildering commencement of his ordeal. The invasion of his personal space by court guards who arrest him in his bedroom signifies the intrusion of irrationality into his ordinary life. The intimate setting of his own room, where he is accused without clear charges, mirrors the chaos and disorder of the legal system. This setting bookends the narrative, as it is both the site of his initial arrest and his ultimate capture, underscoring the cyclical and inescapable nature of his predicament.

Court

The court is housed in a decrepit apartment complex, with proceedings held in a cramped, stifling attic. This unlikely venue for legal activities emphasizes the surreal and illegitimate nature of the trial. The court's placement in the building's upper echelons symbolizes its aloofness and disconnection from the real world, hinting at a judicial system that operates beyond comprehension. Joseph K.'s struggle to breathe within its confines metaphorically illustrates his suffocation under the weight of bureaucratic absurdity.

Junk Room

A seemingly inconsequential junk room within the bank where Joseph K. works transforms into a place of punishment. Here, he witnesses the flogging of the court guards who originally arrested him. The setting, unconventional for such a grim scene, amplifies the irrationality and brutality embedded in the judicial system. This incident within the cluttered confines of a storage area underscores the unpredictable and arbitrary nature of justice as administered by Kafka's court.

Huld’s House

Seeking legal guidance, Joseph K. visits Huld, an ailing lawyer who conducts business from his bedroom. The domestic setting of Huld's house further blurs the boundaries between private life and legal affairs, complicating the already perplexing judicial process. The lawyer's bedridden state and the intimate, cluttered surroundings add to the increasingly dreamlike and nonsensical quality of K.'s interactions with the legal world.

Titorelli’s Bedroom

Painter Titorelli’s attic bedroom is yet another unconventional setting where legal matters unfold. His room is not only his living space but also a passageway for court officials, who intrude on his privacy at will. The arrangement of Titorelli's space, with its peculiar furnishings and the door leading to judicial representatives, reflects the pervasive reach and dominance of the court over individual lives. This setting illustrates the relentless and intrusive nature of the oppressive regime K. is ensnared by.

Cathedral

A cathedral in the city becomes a place where Joseph K. seeks clarity and solace, only to find further confusion. During his encounter with a priest who shares a cryptic parable, the cathedral adds a metaphysical dimension to K.'s struggle against the court. The spiritual setting contrasts with the secular judicial process, highlighting the ambiguity and elusive nature of truth. This encounter leaves K. with more questions than answers, underscoring the futility of seeking definitive guidance in a chaotic world.

Stone Quarry

The stone quarry, located on the city’s outskirts, serves as the final setting for Joseph K.'s execution. The stark and desolate landscape provides a fitting backdrop for the culmination of his tragic journey. The quarry's sacrificial atmosphere, with Joseph K. positioned on a stone block, evokes a ritualistic execution, imbuing the scene with a sense of inevitability and helplessness. The executioners' ritualistic behavior, as they fixate on K.'s eyes at the moment of death, deepens the theme of existential despair.

The elliptical nature of Kafka's narrative invites interpretation, and no novel exemplifies this more than The Trial. With its maze-like bureaucracy, filled with endless governmental offices that lead nowhere, readers are constantly reminded of a bleak and worn-out middle-European culture, perfectly embodied by the city of Prague. K.'s descent into the depths of the legal system raises numerous questions about the law and its applications.

Moreover, like Kafka's other longer works, The Trial also appears to evoke religious themes. Is the magistrate a representation of God? Is Joseph K.'s experience a form of purgatory? These religious inquiries are supported by the novel's exploration of themes such as sin and innocence, pain and joy, suffering and redemption. The novel has occasionally been interpreted as a quintessential existentialist work, balancing freedom and responsibility against a deterministic universe that controls human destiny.

1. What role does "justice" play in this novel? How does this concept differ from legal questions of guilt and innocence?

2. To what extent is Joseph K. responsible for his situation? Is he a victim of forces beyond his control?

3. What do you think of the "unfinished" nature of the novel's ending? How does this open-endedness expand our analysis of the fiction?

4. What role do women play in the novel? In what ways are they portrayed as nurturing angels or avenging furies?

5. How is the idea of "freedom" depicted in the fiction? In the context of the narrative, what does "freedom" mean?

6. Discuss the religious undertones of the novel. Do not be constrained by conventional notions of religion; instead, let your ideas flow from broader, more encompassing concepts of the "religious."

7. Why does Joseph K. persist in pursuing his innocence? Why doesn't he simply "plead out" his case?

8. In what ways is the title of the book an extended metaphor for modern life as Kafka envisioned it?

9. Why doesn't Kafka provide his protagonist with a way out of his dilemma?

10. The image of the father plays a central role in Kafka's fiction. How does the father figure function in this story, and what is the connection between the father and the law?

The Trial, like Kafka's other novels, carves out a unique genre. While other authors have explored the complexities of the Western legal system — Charles Dickens's Bleak House (1853) comes to mind — none have done so with Kafka's distinctive eeriness. His emotionally detached prose echoes the work of other European modernists, such as Max Frisch, and even the later novels of Jerzy Kosinski. However, no one quite captures the peculiar aloofness that is quintessential to Kafka's style.

The profound sense of futility and alienation experienced by Kafka's characters, often named "K," remains unparalleled. Even Albert Camus's central character in The Stranger (1942) appears relatively passionate by comparison.

This is not to suggest that Kafka wrote in isolation; rather, he set precedents instead of following them. This is why his work remains pivotal to the study of twentieth-century literary modernism.

Similar to Kafka's other lengthy prose works, The Trial was not released during his lifetime, preventing him from giving his final approval on the completed book. Consequently, any alterations he might have made to the manuscript remain a matter of conjecture. Considering his established practice of revising stories that were published while he was alive, it is likely that he would have made some changes.

The Trial, directed by Orson Welles in 1963, was produced by a French-Italian-German collaboration. The film showcases Welles' unique yet consistently engaging approach to filmmaking. A critic noted that the movie can feel somewhat confusing — much like Kafka's original novel — and the international cast, including Welles as the Prosecuting Attorney, occasionally appears lost. The film's main appeal lies in its director. Welles, renowned as a top-tier filmmaker, has garnered significant attention even for his lesser works. The movie faced numerous production challenges due to limited funding, which is evident in its low-budget execution.

Despite these issues, Welles succeeded in capturing the Kafkaesque essence of the novel through his elliptical and distancing film style, which mirrors the novel's prose that creates a barrier between the text and the reader. Welles' portrayal of the Prosecuting Attorney is intriguingly indirect, though it sometimes verges on self-parody. However, Anthony Perkins' performance as Joseph K. is somewhat unclear, as are the performances by Jeanne Moreau, Romy Schneider, and Elsa Martinelli at times. Only Akim Tamiroff convincingly embodies the cringing and dislocated characteristics needed to fit into Kafka's world.

"Say what you like, but The Trial is the best film I ever made!" declares Orson Welles, the director of the 1963 black-and-white adaptation of the novel. In this film, Welles himself plays the advocate, while Anthony Perkins takes on the role of Josef K.

In 1993, David Hugh Jones directed a remake of the film using a script by Harold Pinter. In this version, Kyle MacLachlan portrays Josef K., and Anthony Hopkins assumes the role of The Priest.

During the 1990s, The Trial was frequently adapted for the stage. The most recent adaptation was directed by Ivan Rajmont, who used Evald Schorm’s version at the Theatre of Estates in 1998.

Sources
Walter Benjamin, “Franz Kafka: on the Tenth Anniversary of His Death,” in his Illuminations: Essays and Reflections, edited by Hannah Arendt, Schocken, 1968, pp. 111–45.

Max Brod, Franz Kafka: A Biography, translated by G. Humphreys Roberts, Schocken, 1947.

Albert Camus, “Appendix: Hope and the Absurd in the Work of Franz Kafka,” in his The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays, translated by Justin O’Brien, Knopf, 1955, pp. 124–38.

Gilles Deleuze, and Félix Guattari, Kafka: Toward a Minor Literature, translated by Dana Polan, Theory and History of Literature series, Volume 30, University of Minnesota Press, 1986.

Ralph Freedman, “Kafka’s Obscurity: The Illusion of Logic in Narrative,” in Modern Fiction Studies, Vol. VIII, No. 1, Spring 1962, pp. 61–74.

Herman Hesse, “Eine Literatur in Rezensionen und Aufsätzen,” in his Gesammelte Werke Vol. 12, Suhrkamp Verlag, 1970, p. 482.

Thomas Mann, “Homage” in The Castle by Franz Kafka, translated by Willa Muir and Edwin Muir, Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1940, pp. ix–xvii.

Edwin Muir, “A Note on Franz Kafka,” in The Bookman, Vol. LXXII, No. 3, November 1930, pp. 235–41.

Philip Rahr, “Franz Kafka: The Hero as Lonely Man,” in The Kenyon Review, Winter 1939, pp. 60–74.

R. O. C. Winkler, “The Novels” in Kafka: A Collection of Critical Essays, edited by Ronald Gray, Prentice Hall, Inc. 1982, pp. 45–52.

Further Reading
Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale, Anchor Books, 1998. Utilizing Kafkaesque elements, Atwood critiques society’s obsession with reproductive rights. In this dystopian future, women are valued solely for their reproductive capabilities.

Terry Gilliam, Brazil, Universal Studios, 1985. Named the best film of the year by the Los Angeles Film Critics Association, Brazil tells the story of Sam Lowry, a bureaucratic worker. Lowry's life unravels when an insect causes a typographical error on a printout, leading to him being labeled a criminal by the very bureaucracy he serves.

Ernst Pawel, The Nightmare of Reason: A Life of Franz Kafka, Noonday Press, 1992. This biography is widely considered the definitive account of Franz Kafka's life.

Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead, Bobbs-Merrill Co., 1979. In this 1949 story, Ayn Rand presents an alternative view of the individual compared to Kafka's. Her protagonist, an architect, successfully overcomes life's challenges and adversaries. In Rand’s narrative, good prevails and the individual triumphs.