grrrr. I HATED that I felt compelled to read this book. It made me feel angry every time I picked it up, but couldn't help myself, I had to finish it once I'd started. If nothing else, I think this is a very good portrait of descent into madness, or at least trying to deal with any government body! (think Centrelink...) I was somewhat disappointed that there was no real conclusion, I felt like someone at a pantomime screaming at K. "get out, get out, while you still have the chance", but he just keeps plodding on. I suppose in that sense it is even more like a mental illness, becoming progressively worse until there is no way of determining what is real and what is a self-constructed delusion. I feel so much sympathy for anyone suffering paranoia now, but don't feel any better equipped to help them. Poor Kafka. He must have had a difficult life.