Kafka invites you to ask such questions, and lets them stand without answer. Could K. have survived if he had simply gone away? Could he have wanted more to prevail? The question is open. "Logic is doubtless unshakable, but it cannot withstand a man who wants to go on living," K. says to himself, moments before he is killed. And yet, whatever we determine to be the state of K.'s will, Kafka also shows us that will is not enough. Consider the opaque yet radiant parable of the man who asks admittance to the Law. Certainly that man does not lack will--he expends his life in his will to encounter the Law, though he is apparently free to abandon his quest and simply walk away. But abandonment of the Law, of Logic, is abandonment of justice, of dignity, of personhood. It may constitute thinking outside the box, but it is also a retreat (and to where?). Besides, nowhere is it stated that K. can merely abandon the Court, that the Court excuses those who fail to be drawn into its web of doubt, pandering, and self-recrimination. We do not know the Court's jurisdiction. There is neither a clear way out nor an unequivocal indication of doom until doom is at hand. In this light, blaming K. for his own demise is analogous to blaming victims of the Nazi death machine for not perceiving in advance the full trajectory of depravity, or blaming Stalin's victims--who never had the option of stepping beyond the purview of a perverse Law--for their fate.