The Trial contains a dream-like atmosphere. The narrative unfolds within a surreal, strange setting that resembles the logic of a dream or a nightmare. Joseph K.’s abrupt, unexplained arrest—without charges, reason, or warning—immediately places him in a surreal scenario. It’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s not. Sometimes it feels like the events that occur actually come from Joseph K.’s own mind, shaped by his fears and doubts about himself—like feeling small, powerless, or worthless. When he says that he is the chief clerk in a large bank, people around him laugh a lot. It’s as if the world around him doesn’t take him seriously, and maybe he’s unsure of himself too. Much like a dream, K. faces many strange, illogical situations. The whole story feels like a nightmare journey through a labyrinth with no exit.
The Trial is often described as a dreamlike process, taking place in K.’s mind. The events are described in a way that feels both real and impossible, as if it is a complicated dream. This is evident in the novel’s fragmented structure, with chapters that lack clear resolution and a labyrinthine bureaucracy that defies logic—much like the nonsensical nature of dreams. From the very opening, where Joseph is in bed upon being arrested, the story begins in a state of suspension between sleep and real life. The opening scene invites the readers to read the entire novel as though it takes place in a dream world. Like many dreams, the narrative is entirely centered around one person—Joseph K. The world appears to exist only in relation to him. This mirrors how, in dreams, the environment and other people function in relation to the dreamer’s mind.
Within this dream-like structure, K.’s fantasies and desires emerge—especially his desire for power and control. His appeal and success with women, like how Leni and Bürstner are drawn to him so easily, also seem too idealized to be real. These moments feel like scenes from K.’s psyche. As the novel progresses, the tone becomes more paranoid. K. feels threatened by everyone. This growing paranoia is reflected during K.’s speech in the courtroom, where he accuses the court of being part of a vast and unseen organization. His fear of being controlled by an unknown authority mirrors the psychological reality of being haunted by one’s superego. Kafka’s The Trial feels like a dream—or more accurately, a nightmare. The novel is a strange labyrinth. Unlike classical labyrinths, where a higher power might watch from above, Kafka’s labyrinth has no observer outside. It traps everyone, even the writer himself, and there is no escape.
The places also feel like a dream. Rooms and hallways lead into more rooms and hallways. There is no clear outside. Even though the buildings are huge, they feel suffocating. In dreams, time is non-linear—one moment can feel like eternity, without a clear beginning or end. If the rest of the novel is a dream, the final chapter might be the one real moment when K. dies, and everything that happened was a dream before his death.