I had forgotten that Kafka died before finishing The Castle , or I probably wouldn’t have picked it up. Few things annoy me more than not knowing how a novel is supposed to end, though, I guess, good ol’ Wikipedia gives us a clue, but that’s only a bit of a consolation because, of course, it is Wikipedia. The Castle has been on my reading list for a few years. I started reading it a long time ago, but I didn’t get very far. I don’t remember why. I think it might have put me to sleep. This time, though, it held my attention throughout, and I really enjoyed it – until it cut off at the end with absolutely no resolution.
Here’s the general plot: A man named K. wanders into a village governed by officials in a castle not far away. He checks into an inn, goes to sleep, and is awakened by the innkeeper and one of those officials, who says he doesn’t have permission to stay in the village and that he must leave immediately. K. claims to be a land-surveyor summoned by the castle (we never really learn whether he is or not, but I assume he’s lying), and after some phone calls, he is allowed to stay. So he sleeps. The next morning, he tries to contact various officials, but he finds it impossible. He thinks he has a chance at talking to an official who knows an official, etc, etc, etc, but, of course, he doesn’t. It’s the same general idea as The Trial , though they’re certainly two different novels. And then it breaks off. The end.
It doesn’t sound like it, but I really do like Kafka. I read The Metamorphosis when I was in high school, and I really enjoyed it. I read The Trial when I was in college and, for a while, thought it was the best novel I’d ever read. The Castle was okay. Next time, I’ll read one Kafka finished writing.