Why did I love this book?
“Someone must have been telling lies about Joseph K., for without having done anything wrong he was arrested one fine morning.” So Kafka introduces us to a baroque, magical-realist, and often hilarious shadow-world of shabby, corrupt justice. This is the finest fictional study—and parody—ever created of conscience gone berserk. I love it most of all for its devout darkness that sparkles with humor. The sly derision of depressive, guilty thoughts is like an escape hatch from the labyrinth of despair.