K. desperately tries to be acquitted of his unknown crime. He confides
in the court painter, who advises him to continuously delay his verdict. K.
also fires Huld, but is later warned by the prison chaplain about his attitude
towards his case. In order to address K.’s mistaken view of the court, the
chaplain tells K. a parable about the Law: “a man from the country” is denied
access to the gate of the Law. Once aged, the man asks the gatekeeper why no
one else has tried to enter the gate: all along, the gate was meant for the man
alone. K is ready to celebrate his birthday, but two men stop him and lead him
outside of town. The novel abruptly ends as they stab him in the heart.
We see that in the end, K. is going along with a scripted performance
where he can’t control what happens to him, much like “O Judeu” and “The
Crucible”. Yet throughout his trial, as Foucault would put it, he was literally
a spectacle: his trial, for instance, had an audience that cheered and booed his
actions. Everyone knew about him and his trial, and to many women, he became
attractive because he was guilty of a crime. Interestingly, although we never
find out what K. was found guilty for, the sex he has with multiple women could’ve
caused some guilt, much like John Proctor’s situation in “The Crucible,” which
would’ve caused an innate psychological torture that isn’t a spectacle. We are
presented with one of the paradoxes from the intriguing judicial system we see
in The Trial, which neither seems to be fully modern nor of the past.
I agree with all your points. The questions that most often frequent my mind, particularly when you mention K. as a spectacle, are ones concerning the protagonist's actual character. I wonder if K. was really speaking on behalf of 'all those before him' who'd suffered at the hands of the court, or if he was really just reveling in the attention the court offered him. Obviously, K.'s obsession with the court and his affairs with the women involved stemmed from a self-focused desire for the truth; but it could also be the result of a narcissistic impulse in K.'s being, a man of means and ambition who might see his notoriety as an opportunity for public speeches and romps with starstruck women. Even when K. was doing something selfless, such as interfering with the beatings of two guards, said men were suffering because of a complaint he was moved to make by his own superiority. I think it was the deliberate stroke of Kafka to put such a dubious character at the forefront of his book, so that his moves are never entirely predictable, and his actions never entirely free of guilt. That's what makes the story a trial for its hero.
ReplyDelete