في صباح يوماً ما، وجد غريغور سامسا نفسه قد تحول إلى حشرة! فكان كُل ما يشغل باله بعدها: كيف سأذهب إلى عملي؟
الجميل في هذه الرواية أنه هناك العديد من التأويلات التي ستجدها، ستختلف آراءنا وتفكيرنا ولكنك لن تختلف على أن "فرانز كافكا" تعذب وعانى في حياته بشكل بشع ليكتب رواية بها هذا الكم من الألم والعذاب النفسي.

طوال أحداث الرواية وجدت نفسي أحاول أن أفسر لماذا تحول؟ هل هناك رمزية؟ هل مثلاً رمزية أنه مُجرد ما نُظهر للأقربين منا وجهنا الحقيقي فيذعروا منه، هل مثلاً الرمزية في أن العمل يحولك إلى حشرة لا فائدة منها؟ هل مثلاً أن العائلة التي طالما اهتم بها "غريغور" في أقرب وعكة صحية تركوه وعانوا منه بل وضربوه وتمنوا موته؟ عن الطريقة التي ينظر بها العالم إلينا؟ وأننا مجرد حشرة في نظره؟
العديد من الأفكار عصفت بذهني.. وروحي أصبحت قلقة، رباه.. يكفي ألم.. ليعود إلى شكله البشري الأول أو فليمت رحمة له.
وأما بعد النهاية فقد تيقنت أن الرمزية لها علاقة بالأسرة، فهم بعد كل شيء قرروا الاستمرار.. وكأنها رسالة ضمنية من كافكا يُخبرك أن الحياة تستمر حتى بدونك، لن تتوقف ولن يتوقف أقرب الناس إليك من مُمارسة حياتهم.

بعدما قرأت الكلمة في آخر الكتاب عن كافكا وأنه أوصى صديقه المُقرب بأن يُتلف مؤلفاته، علمت وتيقنت أن تلك المؤلفات هي جزء من روح كافكا، جزء من كيانه، وحياته المليئة بالسواد، رُبما كان أبواه من يكرهاه، رُبما حبيبة، رُبما صديق.. ولكن دعنا نتفق أن كافكا كانت حياته كالجحيم.

4* for the novella + 1* for Benedict Cumberbatch narration ( I adore his voice).

A family (mother, father and sister) are forced to become responsible and find jobs when the son, the sole provider of the family, has a sort of a disease and cannot work anymore. As he becomes useless he is marginalized and despised. I almost forgot, the disease is that the son wakes up in the morning as a cockroach.

Methamorphosis is considered one of the best books ever written which is quite remarkable considering its size. To succeed to have such an impact in a few pages is an accomplishment. At a first glance it is the story of Gregor Samsa, who wakes up transformed as a vermin and becomes treated like one by the family. As with great literature, and with Kafka in particular, there is more than meets the eye.

Some of the themes that come to my mind (and some that I read in other reviews) are:
-tWhat happens when a person is no longer sociable acceptable and it becomes marginalized
-tThe novel can be seen as a critic of discrimination or
-tKafka’s own existential suffering and his alienation from the world ( I think some reading about Kafka’s life is needed to better understand his work).
-tA fable of Jews’ condition

For a better and more in depth analysis of the novella please check Vladimir Nabokov’s contribution: http://www.kafka.org/index.php?id=191...

It never fails to amaze me just how little I know about classics before I read them. Take this for example. All I knew about Metamorphosis was that a man turned into bug and Kafka was adamantly against using an image of a bug on any covers for this book (rip Kafka, you would’ve hated 99% of the covers for this book), I expected it to be good, but I didn’t expect it to emotionally devastate me. I find it quite impressive that whilst reading this novella featuring a man-turned-bug I constantly felt sick, but that feeling of disgust was never directed at the unfortunate Gregor; it was directed at the gut-wrenching reaction to him once he stopped being a “useful” member of society.

tldr: This book ruined my life.

“Why was only Gregor condemned to work for a company where the smallest lapse was greeted with the gravest suspicion?”

A big part of this book centers around what becomes of a person when, for whatever reason, they are no longer fit to work. Gregor Samsa handles waking up only to realize he has transformed in the night exactly as any overworked person whose entire family is completely reliant on their income: he said screw it, ‘What if I went back to sleep for a while, and forgot about all this nonsense?’ Which is, unfortunately, so real. You’re overworked, overstressed, overtired, waking up before the sunrise and realise that you are now in a state that would be deemed unfit to work and may potentially lose your job, of course you’re going to sleep and hoping that things work themselves out before you wake up again, because what are you going to do if it doesn’t? The interaction with his boss at the beginning was absolutely insane, but so representative of how so many bosses view their employees—even the ones that do their jobs perfectly for years aren’t safe from the wrath that one slipup incurs. Seriously, Gregor had never called in sick for 5 years, yet they went ballistic and assumed absolute worst of him when he was a couple hours late to work (because he was a bug and didn’t know how to use his new, little legs, so how was he going to get on a train?) and immediately threatened to fire him? While EVERY SINGLE thought he has when he first realizes he is now a bug is about how he is going to get to work and do his job. That man was seriously considering taking the bus as a BUG (he just had to figure out how to stand up, your honor!) and they had the gall to start yelling at him? That story definitely belongs on r/antiwork. Throughout the entire book I find it quite fascinating that Gregor never views this metamorphosis as how it affects him internally, but fixates on how this affects his ability to keep his job and provide for his family. The focus on this highlights just how conditioned we are to be productive members of society at all costs and how dangerous it can for one’s well-being when they are viewed as just another cog in the machine, whose value is only tied to their usefulness and when they live in a society that requires overworking yourself to put food on the table. Metamorphosis has a strong foundation, set up by Samsa’s need to provide for his family and his ability to do just that taken away. Once he is deemed useless, his thoughts of how he has failed his family begin. Never once does he blame his family for how abhorrently they treat him, because he genuinely believes that he is disgusting and terrible, not because he is a bug, but because he can no longer provide money for them. And because of that, he genuinely believes that he deserves this treatment and accepts it with an unconditional love and desire only to help his family in any way he can, whatever that may mean for himself.

“But what if all peace, prosperity, all contentment, were to come to a sudden and terrible end?”

Gregor’s fear of losing “peace, prosperity, all contentment” is not for himself, but for his family. He works like a dog in order for them to maintain that and, once he is unable to do so, his main fear is that he will be the cause of their demise. It seems clear that his father, who took on a strict and violent method with him as soon as he transformed, has instilled in him the belief that he has to be the provider for the family and that everyone will rely on him, following in his father and many men’s footsteps in a patriarchal society. What we see of his father’s feelings towards him are extremely straightforward. His son has fallen. His son will surely never be good enough now that he is in this predicament, so he turns towards rage. There is no sympathy in the way his father views him now, and it leads me to wonder if there ever was or if he was doomed from the start.
His mother is the stereotypical “if you don’t see the world/live in the world my way then there is something inherently wrong with you” type, which opens some interesting avenues for discussion on the treatment of disabled people. There is a scene where she is fighting with the sister and says, ‘Isn’t it the case as well, that by taking away his furniture, we would be showing him we were abandoning all hope of an improvement of his condition, and leaving him utterly to his own devices?’ It is almost laughable how often I have heard a variation of that sentiment in the modern day. Her adamance to keep things the same, despite the very obvious changes in her son’s physical needs, speaks to an unwillingness to give accessibility because in doing so, she would have to accept that he has changed, which is something she is not willing to do, even if it will make Gregor’s quality of life significantly better.
Grete, his sister, is the most interesting and heartbreaking of the group because of how strong Gregor and Grete’s love runs. They were always by each other’s side, looking out for each other. He would have given her the world; he was trying to before he transformed. In a way, the whole family has a metamorphosis, but hers is the most clear (besides Gregor’s, of course). As time moves, the burden of this “beast” she can barely see as her brother begins to far outweigh her desire to help him and make him comfortable. My jaw was on the floor for the last few pages, and, while the entire family was heinous, she was the main reason why.


“... he thought how simple everything would be if he had some help.”

From the start of the book, there is a language (species?) barrier when it comes to communication, at least for his family. While Gregor can perfectly understand his family, they cannot understand him and therefore assume that he cannot understand them. This, along with the fact that his family thinks he is so disgusting that they can’t look at him and can barely stand to be in the same room as him, alienates Gregor, leaving him completely alone by the time the story is over. But, in the beginning, there were glimpses of what could have been. Multiple times, Gregor notes just how much easier his life would be if he just had some help, or thinks about how his father wouldn’t have to harm him if he just noticed that the reason Gregor wasn’t moving fast enough was because there was something blocking him. The importance of community and togetherness is highlighted well through the injuries that Gregor sustains and how his family feels about him. When he is first seriously injured, he is completely healed quite quickly because, even though his parents have already given up on him and his sister is quite distressed about the situation, his sister makes an effort to accommodate him and his new needs. He isn’t lucky with his second injury, as he is now completely alone and rejected by everyone. This time, he suffers the injury for months and the weapon stays embedded in him, with no one who cares enough, or wants enough to get it out. Even when he thinks about helping his family, he moves significantly faster than when he is feeling especially rejected. I cannot stop thinking about how different this story would have been if his family worked towards helping and accommodating him, and it breaks my heart all over again. Kafka made it clear just how valuable it was whenever his sister, though rare, showed him kindness, as it quite literally healed him. There is power in community, there is power in family, there is power in love. Humans are social beings and we are not meant to crawl through this world on our own.

“Meanwhile, Gregor of course didn’t have the least intention of frightening anyone, and certainly not his sister.”

The part of this that really makes me sick is just how good of a person Gregor is. Being inside his head and seeing just how everything he does is with his family in mind, even as they reject him and isolate him, is nauseating and fills me with a deep pain. The only times he gets in trouble are when he leaves his room and the only times he leaves his room are when he is trying to help his family. How does one just throw someone away, especially someone who loves and cares for them so deeply and did so much for them. How do you not even check to see if your brother, your son who you have known for years can understand you even if he cannot communicate with you? How devastating it must be to be Gregor Samsa, who has only ever put his family first, but has finally worn out his use. How devastating it must be to be thrown away in disgust. How devastating it must be to justify this mistreatment by rationalizing that he somehow deserves it, because how can he, who has loved his family so deeply and unconditionally rationalize the fact that they weren’t willing to go near him let alone try and help him through this weird and unsettling change. How different this book would have been if they were willing to look past his grotesque exterior and understand that their boy was still there. Well, now I feel sick again, and I just want to give that little vermin a hug. This book made me cry way too many times for its seventy-seven pages. It shredded my soul to pieces and left me hollowed out. I want to go on and on about how brilliant and painful and relatable it is, I want to never shut up about it. This is one of those books that makes me question how I gave so many other books five stars before it because now it doesn’t feel as special to give this one five stars. This book is seared into my soul, and I fear it’ll stay there forever.

translation by Michael Hofmann

A paraphrase. When my (ex)husband went out one evening from unsettling dreams of how faraway his wife was, he went out drinking and whoring. Next morning he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous vermin. A cockroach. Much he knew it though. None of his friends recognised it, in fact they preferred the cockroach to the person he had been and he had a great time. When it was time for him to come home, armour-plated as he was he crushed his wife underfoot (well fists and kicks, but same thing).

Unlike Kafka's poor cockroach whom no one could come to terms with and is destroyed by their ultimate hatred of creepy, crawly insects that roam the house, my ex was embraced by all and became the most popular party person. Although at one stage I did have to fight off a woman who was swinging her handbag at me and tell a Spanish prostitute that my husband's unwanted attentions were no business of mine.

The moral of the story is that there is more than one type of human cockroach and Kafka only wrote about one. It's all in the shell, if you are ugly, big, brown and with six legs you are hated. But handsome, big, brown and with only two, you are adored.

Read this book back in 1999 and loved it. Social isolation for visible or invisible characterists reverberated with me, as did the cold gang mentality that rules once each has identified themselves as a sympathetic member.

5 star book
2 star ex husband (I did get my son so he gets a star for that).

honestly? i really enjoyed this. i finished it in less than 24 hours (which isn’t much of an accomplishment because it is quite short) but i was hooked from the start.

mini rtc

Kafka’s classic tale written in 1912 is about the changes that can come about in our lives. Up until the very end, the entire tale takes place in an apartment of a mother, father, son and daughter. The son is unfortunately unable to continue to perform his job as a traveling salesman and support his family financially. This abrupt change forces the father, mother and daughter to exert more energy in their lives and take steps to earn money. Here is a word about each member of the family:

The Father – At the beginning of the tale he is too worn out to even stand up straight and walk across the apartment without pausing. At the end, he stands up straight, combs his white hair neatly, wears a uniform smartly in his new job working for a bank and can take charge of family situations and challenges with authority.

The Mother – At the outset, she is weak and helpless. At the end, she does the household cooking and helps support her family through taking in sewing.

The Daughter – A wan stay-at-home at the beginning and a healthy out-in-the-world worker at the end. At the very end, this 17 year-old blossoms into an attractive young lady, a real catch for some lucky guy.

This Kafka tale is, in some important ways, the forerunner of such books as How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Of course, what I've written above is tongue-in-cheek. Not to be taken seriously!

Review of The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka ---- Take 2

If I didn’t write this ‘Take 2’ I suspect my book review would be the first in nearly 100 years not to mention Gregor wakes up transformed into an enormous bug. Since there already so many reviews posted, I’d like to offer several brief observations:

•tWhat is it about our attempt to maintain the status quo? Gregor is transformed into a monstrous verminous bug and all he and his mother and father and sister can ask is: ‘How can we change things back to how they were?’.

•tThe objective 3rd person narrator lets us know directly that although Gregor’s body has transformed, he still has his human mind with its memories. Why does his family assume Gregor lost his human mind? If they wanted, they could simply ask him questions to find out. For example, ‘Gregor, if you can understand what I am saying, move over to the right side of your room’. This speaks volumes about how people are too narrow in their thinking to deal with life creatively and with imagination.

•tWhat adds to the eeriness of Kafka tale is Gregor’s metamorphosis is in stark contrast to the humdrum regularity of the family in their apartment. The possible exception is the absurdist scene at the beginning where Gregor’s manager knocks on the door and insists on knowing why Gregor missed the early morning train. This combination of these opposites is a stroke of genius.

•tThe most insightful review of this Kafka tale I’ve read is from Vladimir Nabokov ------ http://www.kafka.org/index.php?id=191.... Nabokov adjudged Kafka’s tale the greatest novel of the 20th century behind Joyce’s Ulysses.

ليس بالضرورة أن يراني أحد. المهم أن يشعر بي !
كنت ولازلت أحب أسرتي كفرد منها ولكن ما أن تحولت إلى مسخ .. حتى تحولت أسرتي إلى غرباء أو ربما أعداء.
‏
‏


‫"لكن يا صغيرتي، قال الأب, متعطفاً، وبتفهم مدهش، ما الذي يمكننا أن نفعله؟".‬


الشعور الآخر
الجسد الآخر
الكائن الآخر
كلها لا تعني شيء .. أمام ما قطّع قلبي من الضجر الذي رافقهم تجاهي واللامبالاة.
‏
‏


أحمل أنّاتي الشحيحة. وآهاتي المتوحشة .. وقوقعة الهم الذي أحاطت بي .. ثم ارتمي في نيران الغضب تجاه ما لم أفعل أو أقل.
‏

‫"لو كان قادراً على أن يفهمنـــا ..."‬


‏

تخيل ..
وهذه الرواية الرمزية لمن يملك حدائق الخيال.
أن تعيش بصورة أخرى وشكل ظاهر لا يمت لحقيقتك بصلة ثم تجد الاحتواء من حولك لا يحتضنك بل يكويك ويمزقك بالتدريج، وعلى قدر أيام الغربة والضيق تقترب من النهاية.


تخيل ..
أن تأكل كحشرة
وتتمطى بجسدها
وتمتلك حواسها
ولكن تفكر كإنسان
وتتألم كإنسان ..
.
.
وقتها ...
ما حجم ألمك ؟!
‏

‫"إنني مفتوح الشهية، حقاً. قال غريغور لنفسه، مهموماً، لكن، ليسَ إلى هذه الأشياء. وفيما يتغذى هؤلاء المستأجرون جيداً، <<أموت أنا من الجوع!>>".‬


/
انساني كما تريد .. ولكن لا تهمشني !
عاملني بصلافة كما تحب .. ولكن لا تحتقرني !
إنّك يا هذا تؤذيني بشدة !!!!


‫"وعلى أي حال، فلم يكن هناك من يهتم بأمره".‬



‏


أكثر ما يؤلم الإنسان أن تهان كرامته، أن تهدر بأوساخ الرعاية الدنيئة. وغبار تراكم الخوف والحقد تجاه منظر لا يملكه ذلك المسكين. أن تدوس بقدمك جزءاً من كينونته وتمحقها بأنانيتك.
من سمح لك ؟!

....

تكور على نفسه في حجرته، بنى السدود بينه وبين العالم، إلا أن شيئاً ما كان يدفعه لأن ينصت ويراقب خلف أسوار عزلته.
قد يكون حباً قديماً لذلك الماضي الذي تجاهله أول ما تجاهل في حاضره، أو ذكريات همست له من بعيد وأيقظت ذلك الراكد في قلبه.

عفواً ‫غريغور ...‬
ليس كل البشر شرفاء، متواضعون، يحترمون الذكريات .. ويجلّون المواقف.
هناك من يركلك مع أقرب محطة وجع، ويرمي بما يخصك غير مأسوفاً عليه.
بل حتى ....
بل حتى للأسف ....
بل حتى للأسف هناك من يفرحه موتك ..
وكأنه بُشّر بجنّته !
رغم عدم تكبله العناء معك ..
رغم عدم اكتراثه لشأنك ..
رغم أنّك لست نارُه ..!






/
استدراك :
-هذه الرواية أجمل ما قرأت في هذا العام إلى الآن.
-لاحظت أن كافكا وبخصوص هذه القصة ليس سوداوياً كما يكرر ذلك القرآء في مراجعاتهم، إنما "حساس جداً"
-حزنت بشدة وبكيت .. لسبب: أني ربطت لا شعورياً بين رمز القصة وحالي مع جدتي وكيف أن حبال الاتصال تقطعت بيني وبينها.
هي لم تعد تعرفني، حتى لو اعدت اسمي عليها اكثر من مرة ولم تعد تدرك معنى حديثي.
ذلك التحول المفاجئ، أو ربما صعوبة تواصل ‫غريغور مع اسرته هو سبب الربط والحزن الشديد لأجله أو مجرد تقريب لأمر بعيد عن القصة وفكرة عابرة كانت سبب أن الشخص حينما يفقد سبل التواصل يصعب عليك أنت كمحب أن تقدم له شيء أقله الفهم .. ‬
‫فقط القليل من الفهم.‬

n  n

القراءة الثانية لكافكا المجنون
هذا الرجل يعرف كيف يخلق حكايا سوداوية مُرعبة
لا تستطيع أن تقرأها إلا وأنت فاغر فاهك وعيناك مشرعتان على اتساعهما
بلا غزارة في الأحداث، ولا حتى في الشخصيات
التفاصيل، والتفاصيل فقط
في عالم كافكا تُدرك كم هي مُرعبة التفاصيل
كيف كان في القصة الأولى التي قرأتها له؛ في مستوطنة العقاب
يشرح تفاصيل آلة التعذيب، الكبيرة والصغيرة
وما تفعله في تعيس الحظ الذي سيقع تحت براثنها
يصف كل ذلك بطريقة تبعث على الرعب والإشمئزاز!
وها هنا في التحول، كانت التفاصيل أيضًا سيدة الموقف
وبالطبع تأثير تفاصيل كافكا المصاحب لها من رعب وإشمئزاز كالعادة
تفاصيل تحول إنسان إلى حشرة!!
ويومياته في جسد الحشرة الجديد
كيف تحولت شهيته إلى أنواع معينة من الأكل "المتعفن"
وكيف كان يسلي وقته الطويل بالزحف على قوائمه الصغيرة على الأرض والجدران
وكيف كان يقوم بتنظيف جسده الجديد، جسد الحشرة!
كيف كانت عائلته تتعامل معه ومشاعره تجاههم
ومشاعرهم تجاهه؛ ما بين الشفقة
وعدم القدرة على تحمل المزيد

بالنسبة ليّ، وعلى عكس الجميع
أرى أن الجنون لم يكنّ في القصة والفكرة التي صاغها كافكا
أن يتحول إنسان إلى حشرة
لن تعدو كونها قصة رمزية يرمز بها لقضية ما
أقربها هي شعور شخص ما بكونه حشرة –معنويًا- في نظر من حوله
أو أنه يعيش "طفيليًا" كما نُعت كافكا من قِبل والده
لكن في رأيي، الجنون؛ كل الجنون
هو فوضوية سرد القصة، فلا يُقدم أسباب للتحول لا قبله ولا بعده!
هو يضع التحول بين يديك، ويتركك مع عبثية القصة وفوضويتها
ورغم المحاولات العديدة المبذولة لفك طلاسم ورمزية القصة
لا أجدني اتفق أو أميل مع أيًا منها
فمن ناحية التفسير الأقتصادي لعائلة برجوازية تلفظ من داخلها عضو غير نافع
فهذا يفسر نهاية القصة
ولا يفسر بدايتها وهي سبب التحول
إذ إنك تجد غريغور المسكين هو من كان يعول أسرته قبل التحول!
ومن ناحية أخرى التفسير الميتافيزيقي الذي يرد القصة لفكرة الاستنساخ
ولا أعلم على أي أساس تم تفسيرها كذلك
الاستنساخ تنتقل فيه روح الإنسان إلى كائن أدني، حشرة أو حيوان أو ما شابه
في عالم آخر، بينما غريغور والحشرة في نفس العالم
بل لم يحدث انتقال للروح من الأساس
فغريغور هنا "يتحول" روحًا وجسدًا إلى حشرة
وأعتقد أن تبني التفسير الميتافيزيقي للقصة، يقضي على أي لمحة ابداع بها

يُذكرني كافكا بدستويفسكي
فكلاهما يغوص في التفاصيل
وكلاهما تشعر من مجرد القراءة لهما حجم الألم الذي عانوه
وكلاهما سوداوي ولكن كل على طريقته الخاصة.

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“would you still love me if i was a worm?” except it’s a whole book

It was okay - strange and kind of depressing.

Gregor’s transformation into a bug is no ordinary plight, and yet the fallout of this event is bitterly recognizable. Relatable, even. In fact, I associate myself with Gregor so exactly that it is almost as if Kafka had been writing—in his veiled, symbolic way—about my queer anxieties, just as they are today, in this summer of 2021.

For context, let me briefly address what’s going on in my life before getting into the novel.

I am a thirty-two year old gay man who recently “came out” to his deeply religious family. I use quotes here because I did not so much come out as stop tip-toeing around this aspect of my life. For several years my family has known about my boyfriend and yet believes any recognition of my relationship will “condone” the abominable act. So they pretend he doesn’t exist. Whenever my boyfriend’s name comes up, they turn to ice, go completely silent until the topic moves on to something else. I can return home for a visit, provided I travel alone and never speak of my personal life, otherwise I am not invited.

Having finally grown exhausted of this game, I informed my parents and siblings that if I could not see them with my boyfriend by my side, I simply couldn’t see them anymore. The response was flat “then I guess we won’t see each other for a while.” And by “for a while” the subtext is, until I’m not gay—or at least until I’m not openly gay.

With this dilemma bubbling around in my head, I found it shocking that every detail in Kafka’s bizarre 1915 novel served as a parable for my experience, and indeed many other queer experiences which I haven’t personally encountered. It begins with the image of a locked door.

Gregor’s titular metamorphosis occurs behind closed doors, with his entire family “knock[ing] lightly” from both the main entrance and a side door leading to Gregor’s room. The family understands something is wrong, Gregor is usually quite punctual for work, and his mother makes excuses on his behalf: “‘He is not well, believe me, Mr. Manager…the young man has nothing in his head except business. I’m almost angry that he never goes out at night.”

Meanwhile, the sister goes so far as to “beg” him to come out. The irony is, of course, that once the family gains access to Gregor (and thus Gregor’s secret) they are appalled and close the door again. Such probing accusations—“‘What is wrong? You barricade yourself in your room, give us no more than yes or no for an answer, you are causing serious and unnecessary concern to your parents…’”—have a familiar echo to my own experiences. These translate in my head as “Why are you so quiet? Why don’t you ever pursue that cute girl? What is wrong with you?”

To those on the outside, these seem like ordinary questions capable of ordinary answers. But being inside the locked room, you know these answers will destroy your family relationship. Even slight hints at the truth—such as when Gregor hits his insect head against the door and makes a “small sound”—have the chilling effect of “silenc[ing] everyone.” That queer sound alone is enough for the family to freeze in horror. Not in optimism—is he communicating with us?—but revulsion. Something they do not want shared with third parties. Something they would rather not think about themselves.

The phrase “coming out of the closet” has long been used for revealing one’s sexuality, with some evidence that similar comparisons were used in Kafka’s time. In any case, the closet metaphor serves well because the image of a tightly-spaced room, typically with no light source, accurately represents the stifling, oppressive feeling queer persons feel while hiding from a heterocentric society. The social recuperations of being “seen” are too great a risk.

Existing in a dark space, one is used to eavesdropping, of analyzing how much light can be seen through the keyhole, of vast hope whenever someone accidentally leaves the door open—are they signaling acceptance? Is it safe to come out now?

Gregor similarly finds himself “pressed upright against the door and listening” to his family talk about him to gauge how much he matters to them in his present form. He reads into everything he hears, hoping for signs that he is still part of the family, a “friendly word.”

There's a fleeting moment when the sister enters his room to tidy up and provide food. Feeling optimistic, Gregor makes himself seen—slightly—to test her level of acceptance. Her revulsion assures him the timing is not right, however, so he reverts deeper into his hiding place under the sofa—a closet within a closet. He goes so far as to spend “four hours” “drag[ging] a sheet” over the couch so that his sister does not have to endure seeing “small parts of his body” which “stuck out.”

As a queer person with an unaccepting family, this dance is yet again all too familiar. I have my own sister who I imagine very much views me as a hideous bug; a blight on the family. As time goes on I imagine she will change, that even if my “bugginess” continues to bother her she will choose to accept a bug as family. On the phone, I occasionally push boundaries. When she asks “What did you do this weekend?” I might daringly respond “Me and Ryan went to the movies” to see what happens. So far the reaction has not changed. She still turns to ice, letting the dead silence linger on the line until I inevitably say “What did you do?” so that she can promptly change the subject.

Like Gregor below the sofa, I usually limit my speech to “Nothing really,” or something sufficiently vague, as a courtesy to her so that she doesn’t have to be exposed to the grotesque details of my ordinary life. Or maybe I do it for me. It’s not worth hearing her disgust in that long, hate-filled silence. Either way, I’m a bug hiding beneath a sofa with a sheet draped over it.

That Gregor continues to love his sister, even after she becomes increasingly cruel, is not surprising—I too continue to love my obstinate sister—because there is so much textual evidence to show that the Samsa siblings were particularly close prior to the metamorphosis.

Gregor worked relentless hours to keep his family financially stable. He even set aside extra wages so he could “send [his sister] to the conservatory.” Today we could compare this to paying for her college tuition. Additionally, their names—Gregor and Grete—have a similar ring to them and imply the two are a well-suited pair. Till the bitter end, even after she spearheads a plan to kill him, his sister is the one he trusts and admires most.

Another reason Gregor never condemns his sister’s cruelty is the common queer experience of internalized homophobia. This occurs when queer individuals begin to view themselves as abhorrent because that is how others view them. Lines such as “there was, of course, no question of her ever becoming fully used to the situation” and “[it is] a requirement of family duty to suppress one’s aversion and to endure – nothing else, just endure” and “his mother…was perhaps near death, thanks to him” show a growing ideology that Gregor sees himself as a problem which, in the best of circumstances, can be begrudgingly tolerated and at worst is killing his family.

This internalized homophobia climaxes, as it often does for queer persons, in death. As he lay dying, with “pains throughout his entire body,” Gregor feels “relatively content,” with “deep feelings of love” for his family. Most telling is the line: “his own thought that he had to disappear was, if possible, even more decisive than his sister’s.”

After seeing himself as a burden on his family for so long, the reason for their unhappiness and the hideous creature they see in him, he is ready for his life to end because he feels it will be for the greater good.

Gregor’s death is not a suicide—though his relief in death can certainly be viewed as suicide-esque—but rather the result of a festering wound from an apple that his enraged father threw at him after Gregor un-hid himself in front of his mother, causing her great distress. The “festering wound” is one of the finest symbolic moments to illustrate that Gregor’s death is the result of lingering insult that sticks to the skin (or exoskeleton) long after the initial confrontation. Even Mr. Samsa’s fruit of choice carries the symbolic weight that particularly resonates with my experience growing up in a deeply religious household.

Gregor’s father hurls from a “fruit bowl” and yet, if the bowl contains a variety of fruits, it is only apples used for ammunition. Indeed, “It was an apple” is one of the shortest sentences of the novel, drawing particular attention to itself.

Apples are, of course, most famously associated with original sin in the Garden of Eden. Thus it is impossible for someone like me, whose own father is a Baptist minister, to miss the interpretation that Mr. Samsa’s apple-hurling is effectively calling Gregor’s existence a crime against God. These accusations, common in the queer experience, are also the most “sticky” and hardest to ignore. One can brush off homophobic friends and even, with more difficulty, family, but the belief that your life is an affront to God is—at least for the religious—the wound least likely to heal.

In case the religious implications of the apples are missed, Kafka includes crucifixion imagery in the same scene. After being “bombarded” by apples, Gregor describes feeling “as if he was nailed in place and lay stretched out.” The word choice here is almost certainly an allusion to Jesus hanging on the cross. Furthermore, to once again cement religion as an issue, Mr. Samsa’s reaction to his son’s death is “‘Well…now we can give thanks to God.’”

These references to God at such critical moments stand out like a banner within a queer interpretation. It is so easy to imagine a homophobic family thrilled by such a convenient conclusion to their social problem. For the Samsas, at least, that relief is immediate and apparent.

The blight hidden in their apartment, the thing which hurt them financially and tormented their religious beliefs, is, “thank God,” finally gone. There is no period of mourning, only an immediate desire to “pass that day resting and going for a stroll.” Out in the “open air” and “warm sun” they congratulate themselves on securing alternative sources of income without Gregor and are eager to blot out any memory of his existence.

Again, Kafka breaks my heart with a depiction that is all too familiar to me personally, and queer reality in a broad sense. Some form of disownment continues to be a reality for queer persons from unsupportive families. This is why, out of 1.6 million homeless youth, it is reported that a staggering 40% will identify as LGBT. Though I am independent and cannot be thrown out of doors, my family works hard to “erase” me in other ways, such as tucking away pictures, home movies and other artifacts that may remind my young nephew of my existence. If the family shows any level of support for a gay person, they fear, it could reverse his installed belief that homosexuality is a sin against God.

At this moment, it is worth backtracking to discuss the issue of how we should interpret Gregor in his insect form. I’ve wrote a lot about viewing Gregor as a queer person, but how should we deal with the fictional reality of his being an insect? Should we only see his bug exterior as a metaphor for the queer experience? Or should we ever take the story at face value? That is, that he has literally transformed into a bug? Based on Kafka’s careful word choice, the answer seems to be a bit of both.

Kafka includes many examples where Gregor moves his tiny limbs, creeps about the ceiling, or eats rotten food to assure us that he has, indeed, become a bug. There should be no doubting the reality of that. And yet, it is also interesting that his insect form does not overwhelm the novel. Gregor does not linger on how this metamorphosis happened. At first he thinks he’s dreaming, but after waking up there is scarcely a wonder how this came to be. If I transformed into a bug, I would do nothing but wonder how this happened and how it might be fixed. What did I eat last? What chemicals was I exposed to? Did a witch curse me?

That Gregor does not question this only further illustrates that is aware he is queer and, frankly, always has been. Now the exterior only matches the interior, and the dilemma is in handling that reality.

Neither does Gregor’s family go to any length to uncover the mystery of the metamorphosis. They do not ask, for example, “How did this happen?” or offer any medical assistance—despite there being a hospital right across the street, visible from Gregor’s window. Instead, their primary concerns are getting third parties out of the house so that rumor does not get around.

Kafka further blends the insect issue by making it unclear precisely what bug Gregor has transformed into. Why avoid a line which plainly states “he was a cockroach!” or “he was a ladybug!” — why not make it easier for the reader to picture the protagonist as a specific type of bug? This seems fairly obvious, that Kafka wants the reader to view Gregor as an outcast more than a bug. He wants the reader to read Gregor as a brother and a son, as someone who has been alienated by his own family. There can be some doubt on whether or not Kafka intended the queer implications of his novel—more on that later—but the ambiguous language is certainly meant to make the reader view Gregor as human as possible in his bug form.

Miraculously, Kafka does name a specific type of insect in relation to Gregor, but that insect is so full of innuendo that could also be used as a human insult. The maid, using a tone that “she probably considered friendly” taunts Gregor with such phrases as “‘come on then, you old dung-beetle!’” and “‘Look at the old dung-beetle there!’”

For the queer reader, the interpretation of this scene is a familiar affront of homophobic slurs. Regardless of the maid's tone, she uses the equivalent of such phrases as “fudge-packer” or “poop dick” when she calls him a dung beetle. In her mind she might consider this address as an actual way to build a connection, a way of saying I know what you are, and it’s disgusting, but I’m trying to be your friend. Gregor, of course, like every gay person who’s experienced the exact same thing, does not find this hostility as an effective way to build bridges. So he reverts more, deeper still into his closet within a closet.

By now I hope my argument is convincing that The Metamorphosis can be read as a parable for the queer experience. This naturally leads to the question of authorial intent.

Did Kafka intend to write about the gay experience? Is this the “true” interpretation of the novel that a century of scholars have yet to identify? Maybe, probably not. In truth, it doesn’t matter. It’s certainly possible for a heterosexual to write a canonical queer novel without intending to. Furthermore, the art of masterpieces is often found in their ability to warrant many interpretations.

But textual evidence is so overwhelming, so seemingly personal, that I can’t not dig into Kafka’s life. As it turns out, there are some clues which may readily validate a queer interpretation.

“Kafka had homosexual fantasies, but everyone does,” writes Reiner Stach, one of Kafka's most dedicated biographers. He goes on to argue that it was Kafka’s ability to tap into these subconscious desires which make him such an enduring and brilliant writer.

Max Brod, a close friend of Kafka and the recipient of his estate, described his companion as “tortured by his sexual desires” though he did not clarify if those desires were same-sex.

It is true that Kafka never married, despite finding himself engaged to a number of attractive, eligible women. Yet another Kafka scholar, Saul Friedländer, concluded that the famous author led these women on for social acceptance while he secretly fantasized about men.

It would have been almost cliché for a gay man in the early 1900s to be repeatedly engaged to women before breaking off the wedding last minute. This stereotype alone does not, of course, prove anything. But on the flip side, the knowledge that Kafka attended brothels, presumably for their female entertainment, likewise does not prove an exclusive interest in women. Investing in prostitutes is, in fact, a common “treatment” for homosexuality even today. The methodology seeming to be that once you try heterosexuality you will like it. Perhaps Kafka, riddled with a sense of self-loathing, went to brothels to “fix” himself so he could finally marry one of his many female companions? If you thought of yourself as a crawling, creeping cockroach, what extremes would you go to for a cure?

Recent research into Kafka’s private life has found he subscribed to pornography. This detail is hardly revealing, except that The Metamorphosis possibly alludes to porn. In the memorable scene where Gregor’s family is removing all furnishings from his room, he, in a last ditch effort to preserve at least one personal artifact, crawls upon the wall and presses himself against the picture of “a woman dressed in nothing but fur.” An act which, it is worth noting the sexual phrasing here, “made his hot abdomen feel good.”

One interpretation is that this portrait is merely art, a token of his prior life, however Kafka makes it clear that the removal of furnishings is symbolic of giving up hope on his condition. Mrs. Samsa goes so far as to speak this out loud: “‘…by taking the furniture away, won’t it seem like we’re showing that we’ve given up all hope of improvement and we’re abandoning him to cope for himself?’”

Since this line is spoken it has the ability to influence Gregor’s thinking. The nude art is the thing he chooses to save possibly because he views it as the item most likely bring him back to normal. Again, for the gay man seeking to “change” his sexual orientation, pornographic depictions of women might be seen as medicine.

Of course there are other interpretations. Indeed almost anyone who has ever felt alienated from society, misunderstood, abused, or suffered from some ailment which the rest of the world doesn’t seem to understand, can imprint themselves on Gregor’s situation. This is not a fault of the novel, but rather one of its touchstone achievements.

Still, whether intended or not, Kafka’s tragic tableau tells the story of homophobia in society and within the home. As more queer readers respond to this novel and share their personal connections to it, I suspect there will be more recognition of its relevance as a queer literary landmark.

Re-read


Once again, I just have deep feelings of sorrow for the main character and pity at the ignorance of the others.
Some people whom are bullied, not accepted, or abused might feel like Gregor does in this story. The thing is; that in this story, it happens within the home.
A type of metamorphosis does happen in these types of homes; In homes where you don’t feel wanted, accepted, loved, needed, valued. Sometimes that is what I think of when I read or think about this story is that Gregor was abused, undermined, and treated badly. There were only tiny gleams of the light of compassion let in here and there. No one deserves to feel like a stranger in their own home, or that they are in the way— a hindrance.
We all can really learn a lot from a seemingly odd and macrabre story about what appears to be, on the surface, about a guy who changes into something else. Something others treat as pest or vermin.