I was astounded to see that someone gave this book a 4 star rating. I would give it a negative rating if that were possible, as not only did it detract from my knowledge and enjoyment of the works of Kafka, but I also lost at least two dozen I.Q. points whilst reading this demented drivel.
Mr. Neider seems obsessed with the idea that sex is the key to Kafka's novels. The Castle, for instance, is "really" the story of a man (K.) who wants to have sex with his mother (the castle). He and his two assistants (his testicles) journey to the castle, but are denied entrance, and must wait for word from the authorities (the father) before they can "enter."
I swear that I am not making this up.
Neider goes on and on for almost 200 pages, often contradicting himself or switching his definitions to fit the circumstances of his screed. He rarely supports anything he has to say with textual evidence, and not only is there not a single footnote, there isn't even a bibliography.
I was hoping to gain insight into Kafka's works by reading this. I did not. I will never read another book by Charles Neider. I can think of much better ways to waste my time.