While brilliant on the narrative level - it really piqued my curiosity (and bewilderment) till the end, I really wanted to read it all through - it failed to make me care for Joseph K. He was obnoxious. For all I knew, he may even have been guilty for something, but as he was such a cad, he wasn't aware what he did wrong. On the other hand, the way he was (mis)treated and lead around without real purpose and sense of direction (and the reader with him likewise), well, all right, it was really wrong and frightening. It was surreal, all that what happened to him, but not really so far from the truth, that it is the way we usually feel when something happens we cannot control nor understand. The parable at the end, in which nor the guard nor the peasant did what they should have done because of ignorance and/or stupidity (or whatever that actually meant in Kafka's mind), speaks volumes of our powerlessness before the forces grander than our limited understanding of the world. We all live in some sort of shell - some are more comfy than other, but are still shells, the ways we perceive our lives and limits to which we are ready to go to suit our needs, never beyond. Kafka tells us here what happens when somebody (or something) forcibly breaks that shell. One may be the smartest person in his/her field of expertise, but when happens something totally unexpected and totally out of one's control, expertise means not a thing. Where to go, where to hide, what to do, what do they want, why had that happened to me, will that ever end, what did I did wrong, please help me I have no clue how to behave in this case. And the powers to be do not care to give you any answers. Because they like what they see. You squirming in your submissiveness and ignorance before their feet.
Oh The Trial is definitely brilliant novel, it is. But did I like it? No way. Nobody will ever force me to read it again.