Analysis of the work “Metamorphosis”
The main character of the novel, Gregor Samsa, is the breadwinner of his family, consisting of his father, a completely bankrupt Prague inhabitant, his mother, who suffers from asthma, and his sister, Greta. In order to save his family from beggary, Gregor works for one of his father’s creditors as a traveling salesman, a cloth merchant. He is constantly traveling, but one day, during a break between such trips, he spent the night at home, and in the morning when he woke up, an incident occurred that was beyond human understanding. Gregor turned into a beetle.
“When Gregor Samsa woke up one morning from a restless sleep, he found himself transformed in his bed into a terrible insect. Lying on his armour-hard back, he saw, as soon as he raised his head, his brown, convex belly, divided by arched scales, on the top of which the blanket was barely holding on, ready to finally slide off. His numerous legs, pitifully thin compared to the size of the rest of his body, swarmed helplessly before his eyes.
“What happened to me?” - he thought. It wasn't a dream."
The short story begins with these words.
But this was only the beginning of all the troubles. Further, worse. Due to such an unusual transformation of Gregor into a beetle, he was fired from his job, naturally, he could no longer work, provide his family with money and pay off his father's debt.
Each family member reacted differently to Gregor's transformation. This angered the father; he could not understand how his son could be in the beetle’s body. The mother was very scared and upset, but still did not lose her maternal feelings, and understood that her son was in this body. Sister Greta considered the beetle disgusting, but despite this she took on the burden of caring for it. It is impossible to say whether it was out of family feelings, or out of a desire to show her parents her independence, or maybe out of gratitude that Greta took care of the beetle, but most likely, the second option is closest to the truth.
Gregor's exit into the living room, when all the family members and the boss from his work were there, should in no case be regarded as a challenge to society. From Gregor's words and thoughts, one can understand that he is a person with a heightened sense of responsibility. The hero left the room to the people in his current state, only because, due to a sense of duty and understanding of the importance of his responsibilities to his family and employer, he completely forgot about his poor health and unusual transformation.
Gregor's decision to die was influenced by many factors of his existence as a beetle...
Firstly, he was very lonely; his consciousness could not withstand life in a bug body. Secondly, he could no longer help his family make ends meet financially. Thirdly, and most importantly, Gregor Samsa loved his family very much and spent his entire life making self-sacrifice for them, and now he could no longer do this, instead he became a burden to his parents. On the last day of his life, he heard his sister say that if he had been reasonable and loved his family, he would have left them and not interfered, Greta pressed on his conscience, and Gregor could not stand it.
Gregor turned into a beetle most likely because even when he was in a human body, his life resembled the life of a beetle more than a human. He worked selflessly not for himself, but for the sake of his family, was not interested in anything and was lonely. Or perhaps this was required so that he could see the ingratitude of his family, it was not noticeable that they were particularly suffering precisely because Gregor was sick, instead they were only concerned about financial problems.
Franz Kafka in his short story “Metamorphosis” touched upon the problems of dedication, workaholism, and family relationships. He showed that due to material difficulties a person can completely lose his humanity.
Waking up one morning from troubled sleep, Gregor Samsa found himself transformed in his bed into a terrible insect. Lying on his armour-hard back, he saw, as soon as he raised his head, his brown, convex belly, divided by arched scales, on the top of which the blanket was barely holding on, ready to finally slide off. His numerous legs, pitifully thin compared to the size of the rest of his body, swarmed helplessly before his eyes.
“What happened to me?” - he thought. It wasn't a dream. His room, a real room although a little too small, but an ordinary room, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. Above the table where unpacked samples of cloth lay spread out – Samsa was a traveling salesman – there hung a portrait that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. The portrait showed a lady in a fur hat and boa, she sat very upright and held out to the viewer a heavy fur muff in which her entire hand disappeared.
Then Gregor's gaze turned to the window, and the cloudy weather - he could hear raindrops hitting the tin of the window sill - brought him into a completely sad mood. “It would be nice to sleep a little more and forget all this nonsense,” he thought, but this was completely impossible, he was used to sleeping on his right side, and in his current state he could not accept this position. No matter how hard he turned onto his right side, he invariably fell back onto his back. Closing his eyes so as not to see his floundering legs, he did this a good hundred times and gave up these attempts only when he felt some hitherto unknown, dull and weak pain in his side.
“Oh my God,” he thought, “what a troublesome profession I have chosen!” On the road every day. There is much more business excitement than on the spot, in a trading house, and besides, please endure the hardships of the road, think about the train schedule, put up with poor, irregular food, strike up short-lived relationships with more and more new people, which are never cordial. Damn it all! He felt a slight itch in the upper abdomen; slowly moved on his back towards the bars of the bed so that it would be more convenient to raise his head; I found an itchy place, completely covered, as it turned out, with white, incomprehensible dots; I wanted to feel this place with one of the legs, but immediately pulled it away, because even a simple touch caused him, Gregor, to shiver.
He slid back to his previous position. “This early rise,” he thought, “could drive you completely crazy. A person must get enough sleep. Other traveling salesmen live like odalisques. When, for example, I return to the hotel in the middle of the day to rewrite the orders received, these gentlemen are just having breakfast. And if I dared to behave like that, my master would have kicked me out immediately. Who knows, however, maybe it would even be very good for me. If I had not held back for the sake of my parents, I would have announced my resignation long ago, I would have approached my master and told him everything I thought about him. He would have fallen off the desk! He has a strange manner of sitting on the desk and talking from its height with the employee, who, in addition, is forced to come close to the desk due to the fact that the owner is hard of hearing. However, hope is not completely lost; As soon as I save enough money to pay off my parents' debt - which will take another five or six years - I will do so. This is where we say goodbye once and for all. In the meantime, we need to get up, my train leaves at five.”
And he looked at the alarm clock that was ticking on the chest. “Good God!” - he thought. It was half past six, and the hands were calmly moving on, it was even more than half, almost three quarters already. Didn't the alarm clock ring? From the bed it was clear that it was positioned correctly, at four o'clock; and he undoubtedly called. But how could one sleep peacefully while listening to this furniture-shaking ringing? Well, he slept restlessly, but apparently soundly. However, what to do now? The next train leaves at seven o'clock; in order to keep up with it, he must be in a desperate hurry, and the set of samples has not yet been packed, and he himself does not at all feel fresh and easy-going. And even if he was on time for the train, he still could not avoid being scolded by his master - after all, the bellboy of the trading house was on duty at the five o'clock train and had long ago reported on his, Gregor's, lateness. The delivery boy, a spineless and stupid man, was the owner's protege. What if you tell someone sick? But this would be extremely unpleasant and would seem suspicious, because during his five years of service, Gregor had never been sick. The owner, of course, would bring a doctor from the health insurance fund and begin to reproach the parents for being a lazy son, deflecting any objections by citing this doctor, in whose opinion all people in the world are completely healthy and just don’t like to work. And would he be so wrong in this case? Apart from the drowsiness, which was really strange after such a long sleep, Gregor actually felt great and was even damn hungry.
While he was thinking about all this, not daring to leave his bed—the alarm clock had just struck a quarter to seven—there was a gentle knock on the door at his head.
“Gregor,” he heard (it was his mother), “it’s already a quarter to seven.” Weren't you planning to leave?
This gentle voice! Gregor was frightened when he heard the answering sounds of his own voice, to which, although it was undoubtedly his former voice, some kind of latent, but stubborn painful squeak was mixed in, which is why the words only sounded clearly at first, and then were distorted by the echo so much that it was impossible to say with certainty whether you had heard correctly. Gregor wanted to answer in detail and explain everything, but due to these circumstances he only said:
- Yes, yes, thank you, mom, I’m already getting up.
Those outside, thanks to the wooden door, apparently did not notice how his voice had changed, because after these words the mother calmed down and shuffled away. But this short conversation drew the attention of the rest of the family to the fact that Gregor, contrary to expectation, was still at home, and now his father was knocking on one of the side doors - weakly, but with his fist.
- Gregor! Gregor! - he shouted. - What's the matter?
And after a few moments he called again, lowering his voice:
- Gregor! Gregor!
And behind the other side door the sister spoke quietly and pitifully:
- Gregor! Are you feeling unwell? Can I help you with anything?
Answering everyone together: “I’m ready,” Gregor tried, with careful pronunciation and long pauses between words, to deprive his voice of any unusualness. The father actually returned to his breakfast, but the sister continued to whisper:
– Gregor, open, I beg you.
However, Gregor did not even think of opening it; he blessed the habit he had acquired while traveling and at home, prudently locking all the doors at night.
He first wanted to get up calmly and without interruption, get dressed and, first of all, have breakfast, and then think about the future, because - it became clear to him - in bed he would not have thought of anything worthwhile. He remembered that more than once, while lying in bed, he had felt some kind of slight pain, perhaps caused by an uncomfortable position, which, as soon as he got up, turned out to be a pure play of the imagination, and he was curious how his current confusion would dissipate. That the change in voice was simply a harbinger of the traveling salesman’s professional illness—a severe cold—he had no doubt about that.
Throwing off the blanket was easy; It was enough to inflate the stomach a little, and it fell by itself. But things got worse from there, mainly because it was so wide. He needed arms to get up; but instead he had many legs that did not stop moving randomly and which he also could not control. If he wanted to bend any leg, it first stretched out; and if he finally managed to accomplish with this leg what he had in mind, then the others, as if having broken free, came into the most painful excitement. “Just don’t stay in bed unnecessarily,” Gregor told himself.
It's been a while since writers surprised you?! Here's Kafka, you couldn't find anything more amazing! From the first sentence, the story “Metamorphosis” reveals its secret. Yes exactly. You don't have to read a hundred pages to understand what happened. If you don’t like “The Metamorphosis”, close it and put Kafka aside. If he lets you!
Kafka was not a fool; he deliberately revealed his cards, which other writers usually do not do. It would seem, why continue reading if everything is already clear. But the meaning somehow appears by itself. First of all, this is an interest in how a person feels in the guise of a beetle. No, no, Spider-Man is a different character, he does not know Kafka’s torment.
I usually start getting to know new writers with Wikipedia, then move on to short works, if there are any, and then pick up novels. Usually Wikipedia gives a figurative understanding of the author’s work, but this time Wiki intrigued me, and I was itching to read it.
I advise you to familiarize yourself with the work of Franz Kafka; in his time he was very extraordinary, and even now he stands out from the book crowd. Kafka's books, including this story, are included in Only this story has been filmed 4 times, and also served as the basis for the plot of a manga « Tokyo Ghoul » Isis Sui.
Theme of the story.
More precisely, several related themes of the story are far from fantastic. Franz Kafka based “The Metamorphosis” on such everyday principles as the son’s responsibility to support his family, workaholism, loneliness among people, and misunderstanding.
The main character Gregor Samsa is left alone with his problems, but his attention is occupied not with finding a way out of the bug body, but with family problems. Despair consumes him, because he is powerless to help his loved ones. But the household are skeptical: he is not like that, he did not live up to expectations, and is Gregor needed at all?
Kafka created an ideal absurd situation and launched the human soul into it. Few dared! As a result, a dry narrative, a statement of facts is absurd, but I couldn’t tear myself away.
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Transformation 1912
Waking up one morning from troubled sleep, Gregor Samsa found himself transformed in his bed into a terrible insect. Lying on his armour-hard back, he saw, as soon as he raised his head, his brown, convex belly, divided by arched scales, on the top of which the blanket was barely holding on, ready to completely slide off. His numerous legs, pitifully thin compared to the size of the rest of his body, swarmed helplessly before his eyes.
“What happened to me? - he thought. It wasn't a dream. His room, a real room although a little too small, but an ordinary room, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. Above the table where some unpacked textile samples lay spread out – Samsa was a traveling salesman – there hung a portrait that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. The portrait showed a lady in a fur hat and boa, she sat very upright and held out to the viewer a heavy fur muff in which her entire hand disappeared.
Then Gregor's gaze turned to the window, and the cloudy weather - he could hear raindrops hitting the tin of the window sill - put him in a completely sad mood. “It would be nice to sleep a little more and forget all this nonsense,” he thought, but this was completely impossible, he was used to sleeping on his right side, and in his current state he could not accept this position. No matter how hard he turned onto his right side, he invariably fell back onto his back. Closing his eyes so as not to see his floundering legs, he did this a good hundred times and gave up these attempts only when he felt some hitherto unknown, dull and weak pain in his side.
“Oh, my God,” he thought, “what a troublesome profession I have chosen!” On the road every day. There is much more business excitement than on the spot, in a trading house, and besides, please endure the hardships of the road, think about the train schedule, put up with poor, irregular food, strike up short-lived relationships with more and more new people, which are never cordial. Damn it all! “He felt a slight itch in the upper abdomen; slowly moved on his back towards the bars of the bed so that it would be more convenient to raise his head; I found an itchy place, completely covered, as it turned out, with white, incomprehensible dots; I wanted to feel this place with one of the legs, but immediately pulled it away, because even a simple touch caused him, Gregor, to shiver.
He slid back to his previous position. “This early rise,” he thought, “could drive you completely crazy. A person must get enough sleep. Other traveling salesmen live like odalisques. When, for example, I return to the hotel in the middle of the day to rewrite the orders received, these gentlemen are just having breakfast. And if I dared to behave like that, my master would have kicked me out immediately. Who knows, however, maybe it would even be very good for me. If I had not held back for the sake of my parents, I would have announced my resignation long ago, I would have approached my master and told him everything I thought about him. He would have fallen off the desk! He has a strange manner of sitting on the desk and from its height talking to the employee, who, in addition, is forced to come close to the desk due to the fact that the owner is hard of hearing. However, hope is not completely lost: as soon as I save enough money to pay off my parents' debt - which will take another five or six years - I will do so. This is where we say goodbye once and for all. In the meantime, we need to get up, my train leaves at five.”
And he looked at the alarm clock that was ticking on the chest. “Good God! - he thought. It was half past six, and the hands were calmly moving on, it was even more than half, almost three quarters already. Didn't the alarm clock ring? From the bed it was clear that it was positioned correctly, at four o'clock; and he undoubtedly called. But how could one sleep peacefully while listening to this furniture-shaking ringing? Well, he slept restlessly, but apparently soundly. However, what to do now? The next train leaves at seven o'clock; in order to keep up with it, he must be in a desperate hurry, and the set of samples has not yet been packed, and he himself does not at all feel fresh and easy-going. And even if he was on time for the train, he still could not avoid the boss’s reprimand - after all, the trading house’s messenger was on duty at the five o’clock train and had long ago reported on his, Gregor’s, lateness. The delivery boy, a spineless and stupid man, was the owner's protege. What if you tell someone sick? But this would be extremely unpleasant and would seem suspicious, because during his five years of service, Gregor had never been sick. The owner, of course, would bring a doctor from the health insurance fund and begin to reproach the parents for being a lazy son, deflecting any objections by citing this doctor, in whose opinion all people in the world are completely healthy and just don’t like to work. And would he really be so wrong in this case? Apart from the drowsiness, which was really strange after such a long sleep, Gregor actually felt great and was even damn hungry.
While he was hurriedly thinking about all this, not daring to leave the bed—the alarm clock had just struck a quarter to seven—there was a gentle knock on the door at his head.
“Gregor,” he heard (it was his mother), “it’s already a quarter to seven.” Weren't you planning to leave?
This gentle voice! Gregor was frightened when he heard the answering sounds of his own voice, to which, although it was undoubtedly his former voice, some kind of latent, but stubborn painful squeak was mixed in, which is why the words only sounded clearly at first, and then were distorted by the echo so much that it was impossible to say with certainty whether you had heard correctly. Gregor wanted to answer in detail and explain everything, but due to these circumstances he only said:
Yes, yes, thank you, mom, I'm already getting up.
Those outside, thanks to the wooden door, apparently did not notice how his voice had changed, because after these words the mother calmed down and shuffled away. But this short conversation drew the attention of the rest of the family to the fact that Gregor, contrary to expectation, was still at home, and now his father was knocking on one of the side doors - weakly, but with his fist.
- Gregor! Gregor! - he shouted. - What's the matter? And after a few moments he called again, lowering his voice:
- Gregor! Gregor!
And behind the other side door the sister spoke quietly and pitifully:
- Gregor! Are you feeling unwell? Can I help you with anything?
Answering everyone together: “I’m ready,” Gregor tried, with careful pronunciation and long pauses between words, to deprive his voice of any unusualness. The father actually returned to his breakfast, but the sister continued to whisper:
- Gregor, open, I beg you.
However, Gregor did not even think of opening it; he blessed the habit he had acquired while traveling and at home, prudently locking all the doors at night.
He first wanted to get up calmly and without interruption, get dressed and, first of all, have breakfast, and then think about the future, because - it became clear to him - in bed he “wouldn’t have thought of anything worthwhile. Om remembered that more than once, while lying in bed, he had felt some kind of slight pain, perhaps caused by an uncomfortable position, which, as soon as he got up, turned out to be a pure play of the imagination, and he was curious how his today’s confusion would dissipate. That the change in voice was simply a harbinger of an occupational illness for traveling salesmen - a severe cold - he had no doubt about this.
Throwing off the blanket was easy; It was enough to inflate the stomach a little, and it fell by itself. But things got worse from there, mainly because it was so wide.
He needed arms to get up; but instead he had many legs that did not stop moving randomly and which he also could not control. If he wanted to bend any leg, it first stretched out; and if he finally managed to accomplish with this leg what he had in mind, then the others, as if having broken free, came into the most painful excitement. “Just don’t stay in bed unnecessarily,” Gregor said to himself.
At first he wanted to get out of bed with the lower part of his torso, but this lower part, which, by the way, he had not yet seen, and could not imagine, turned out to be inactive; things went slowly; and when Gregor finally rushed forward in a rage, he took the wrong direction and hit the bed bars hard, and the searing pain convinced him that his lower torso was probably the most sensitive part of his body right now.
Therefore, he tried to get out first with his upper body and began to carefully turn his head towards the edge of the bed. He easily succeeded, and, despite its width and heaviness, his body eventually slowly followed his head. But when his head finally fell over the edge of the bed and hung, he became afraid to continue moving forward in this manner. After all, if he had fallen in the end, it would have been a miracle that he would not have hurt his head. And under no circumstances should he have lost consciousness right now; It would have been better to stay in bed.
But when, having caught his breath after so many efforts, he resumed his previous position, when he saw that his legs were stirring, perhaps even more furiously, and was unable to bring peace and order into this arbitrariness, he again told himself that there was no way he could stay in bed. and that the most reasonable thing is to risk everything for the slightest hope of freeing yourself from bed. At the same time, however, he did not forget to remind himself that calm reflection was much more useful than outbursts of despair. At such moments, he looked out the window as intently as possible, “Oh. Unfortunately, the spectacle of the morning fog, which hid even the opposite side of the narrow street, was impossible. gain vigor and confidence. “It’s already seven o’clock,” he said to himself when the alarm clock sounded again, “it’s already seven o’clock, and it’s still so foggy.” And for several moments he lay calmly, breathing faintly, as if he was waiting from complete silence for the return of real and natural circumstances.
But then he said to himself: “Before the quarter past eight strikes, I must at all costs leave bed completely. However, by that time the office will have come to inquire about me, because the office opens before seven.” And he began to push himself out of the bed, swinging his torso evenly along its entire length. If he had fallen from the bed like that, he probably would not have injured his head by raising it sharply during the fall. The back seemed quite solid; if she fell on the carpet, nothing would probably happen to her. What worried him most was the thought that his body would fall with a crash and this would cause, if not horror, then at least anxiety behind all the doors. And yet it was necessary to decide on this.
When Gregor was already half hanging over the edge of the bed - the new method was more like a game than a tedious work, you just had to swing jerkily - he thought how simple everything would be if he had help. Two strong people - he thought about his father and the servants - would be completely enough; they would only have to put their hands under his convex back, lift him from the bed, and then, bending down with their burden, wait until he carefully turned over on the floor, where his legs would, presumably, have some kind of meaning. But even if the doors weren't locked, would he really have called anyone for help? Despite his misfortune, he couldn't help but smile at the thought.
He was already having difficulty maintaining his balance during strong jerks and was about to make his final decision when the bell rang from the front door. “This is someone from the company,” he said to himself and almost froze, but his legs walked even faster. For a few moments everything was quiet. “They don’t open,” Gregor said to himself, giving in to some crazy hope. But then, of course, the servants, as always, firmly walked to the front door and opened it. Gregor only had to hear the guest's first greeting to immediately recognize who he was: it was the manager himself. And why was Gregor destined to serve in a company where the slightest mistake immediately aroused the gravest suspicions? Were her employees all scoundrels? Was there not among them a reliable and devoted man who, although he had not devoted several morning hours to the work, was completely maddened by remorse and simply unable to leave his bed? Was it really not enough to send a student to inquire - if such inquiries are even necessary - did the manager himself certainly have to come and thereby show the entire innocent family that only he was capable of investigating this suspicious case? And more from the excitement into which these thoughts brought him than from truly deciding, Gregor rushed out of bed with all his might. The impact was loud, but not exactly deafening. The fall was somewhat softened by the carpet, and the back turned out to be more elastic than Gregor had expected, so the sound was dull, not so striking. But he didn’t hold his head carefully enough and hit her; he rubbed it against the carpet, annoyed by the pain.
“Something fell there,” said the manager in the next room to the left.
Gregor tried to imagine whether something similar to what happened to him, Gregor, could happen to the manager today; after all, in fact, such a possibility could not be denied. But as if brushing aside this question, the manager took several decisive steps in the next room, accompanied by the creaking of his patent leather boots. From the room on the right, trying to warn Gregor, the sister whispered:
- Gregor, the manager has arrived.
“I know,” Gregor said quietly; He didn’t dare raise his voice enough for his sister to hear him.
“Gregor,” the father spoke in the room on the left, “the manager has come to us.” He asks why didn’t you leave with the morning train. We don't know what to answer him. However, he wants to talk to you personally. So please open the door. He will generously forgive us for the disorder in the room.
“Good morning, Mr. Samsa,” the manager himself interjected affably.
“He’s not feeling well,” the mother said to the manager, while the father continued to talk at the door. - Believe me, Mr. Manager, he is not feeling well. Otherwise, Gregor would have missed the train! After all, the boy only thinks about the company. I'm even a little angry that he doesn't go anywhere in the evenings; he stayed eight days in the city, but spent all the evenings at home. He sits at his desk and silently reads the newspaper or studies the train schedule. The only entertainment he allows himself is sawing. In just two or three evenings he made, for example, a frame; such a beautiful frame, just a sight for sore eyes; it's hanging there in the room, you'll see it now when Gregor opens it. Really, I’m happy that you came, Mr. Manager; without you we would not have gotten Gregor to open the door; he is so stubborn; and he was probably not feeling well, even though he denied it in the morning.
“I’ll go out now,” Gregor said slowly and measuredly, but did not move so as not to miss a single word from their conversations.
“I don’t have any other explanation, madam,” said the manager. - Let's hope that his illness is not dangerous. Although, on the other hand, I must note that we, businessmen, either fortunately or unfortunately, often have to simply overcome a minor illness in the interests of business.
- So, Mr. Manager can already come to you? - asked the impatient father and knocked on the door again.
“No,” said Gregor. There was a painful silence in the room on the left; in the room on the right, the sister began to sob.
Why didn't the sister go to the others? She probably just got out of bed and hasn't even started getting dressed yet. Why was she crying? Because he did not get up and did not let the manager in, because he risked losing his place and because then the owner would again persecute his parents with the old demands. But for now these were vain fears. Gregor was still here and had no intention of leaving his family. Now, however, he was lying on the carpet, and, having found out what condition he was in, no one would have demanded that he let the manager in. But they won’t immediately kick Gregor out because of this little impoliteness, for which a suitable excuse can easily be found later! And it seemed to Gregor that it would be much more reasonable to leave him alone now, and not bother him with crying and persuasion. But what oppressed everyone—and this excused their behavior—was precisely the unknown.
“Mr. Samsa,” the manager exclaimed, now raising his voice, “what’s the matter?” You lock yourself in your room, answer only “yes” and “no,” cause your parents severe, unnecessary worry, and shirk—I will only mention this in passing—from performing your official duties in a truly unheard-of manner. I speak now on behalf of your parents and your master and earnestly ask you to immediately explain yourself. I'm surprised, I'm amazed! I considered you a calm, reasonable person, but it seems you decided to pull out strange tricks. The owner, however, hinted to me this morning about a possible explanation for your absenteeism - it concerned the collection recently entrusted to you - but I, really, was ready to give my word of honor that this explanation does not correspond to reality. However, now, at the sight of your incomprehensible stubbornness, I lose all desire to intercede for you in any way. But your position is by no means secure. At first I intended to tell you this privately, but since you are making me waste my time here, I see no reason to hide this from your respected parents. Your successes “recently have been, I tell you, very unsatisfactory; True, now is not the time of year to make big deals, we admit that; but such a time of year when no deals are concluded does not exist at all, Mr. Samsa, cannot exist.
“But, Mr. Manager,” Gregor exclaimed, losing his composure and, out of excitement, forgot about everything else, “I’ll open it immediately, this minute.” A slight malaise and an attack of dizziness did not give me the opportunity to get up. I'm still lying in bed now. Noya has already completely come to his senses. And I'm already getting up. A moment of patience! I'm still not as good as I thought. But it's better. Just think what a misfortune! Just last night I felt great, my parents will confirm this, no, or rather, already last night I had some kind of premonition. It is very possible that this was noticeable. And why didn’t I notify the company about this! But you always think that you can overcome the disease on your feet. Mister Manager! Spare my parents! After all, there is no basis for the reproaches that you are making to me now; They didn’t say a word to me about that. You probably haven't seen the latest orders I sent. Yes, I’ll also be leaving on an eight o’clock train; a few extra hours of sleep have bolstered my strength. Don’t be late, Mr. Manager, I’ll come to the company myself now, be so kind as to say so and show my respects to the owner!
And while Gregor was hastily blurting all this out, not knowing what he was saying, he easily - apparently having gotten better at it in bed - approached the chest and tried, leaning on it, to straighten up to his full height. He really wanted to open the door, he really wanted to go out and talk to the manager; he really wanted to know what the people who were now waiting for him would say when they saw him. If they get scared, it means that Gregor has already been relieved of responsibility and he can be calm. If they accept all this calmly, then it means he has no reason to worry and, if he hurries, he will really be at the station at eight o’clock. At first he slipped several times from the polished chest, but finally, making a final jerk, he straightened up to his full height; on the. He no longer paid attention to the pain in his lower body, although it was very painful. Then, leaning on the back of a nearby chair, he caught its legs on its edges. Now he had gained control of his body and fell silent to listen to the manager's answer.
- Did you understand at least one word? - he asked his parents. “Isn’t he mocking us?”
“The Lord is with you,” exclaimed the mother, all in tears, “maybe he is seriously ill, and we are tormenting him.” Greta! Greta! - she then shouted.
- Mother? - the sister responded from the other side.
- Go to the doctor now. Gregor is sick. Get a doctor quickly. Did you hear Gregor speak?
- Anna! Anna! - Father shouted through the hall into the kitchen and clapped his hands. - Bring a locksmith now!
And now both girls, rustling their skirts, ran through the hall - how did the sister get dressed so quickly? - and opened the front door. You couldn't hear the door slam shut - they probably left it open, as happens in apartments where a great misfortune has happened.
And Gregor felt much calmer. His speech, however, was no longer understood, although it seemed quite clear to him, even clearer than before, probably because his hearing had become accustomed to it. But now they believed that something was wrong with him, and were ready to help him. The confidence and firmness with which the first orders were given had a beneficial effect on him. He felt himself once again attached to people and expected amazing accomplishments from the doctor and the mechanic, without essentially separating one from the other. In order to make his speech as clear as possible before the approaching decisive conversation, he cleared his throat a little, trying, however, to do it more quietly, because perhaps these sounds no longer resembled a human cough, and he no longer dared to judge this. Meanwhile, the next room became completely quiet. Maybe the parents sat with the manager at the table and whispered, or maybe they all leaned against the door, listening.
Gregor slowly moved with the chair towards the door, let go of it, leaned on the door, leaned upright against it - there was some kind of sticky substance on the pads of his paws - and rested a little, having worked hard. And then he began to turn the key in the lock with his mouth. Alas, he seemed to have no real teeth - how could he grab the key now? - but the jaws turned out to be very strong; with their help, he actually moved the key, not paying attention to the fact that he undoubtedly caused himself harm, for some kind of brown liquid came out of his mouth, flowed over the key and dripped onto the floor.
“Listen,” said the manager in the next room, “he’s turning the key.”
This greatly encouraged Gregor; but it would be better if they all, both father and mother, shouted to him, it would be better if they all shouted to him:
“Stronger, Gregor! Come on, push yourself, come on, press the lock! “And imagining that everyone was intensely watching his efforts, he selflessly, with all his might, grabbed the key. As the key turned, Gregor shifted around the lock from leg to leg; now holding himself upright only with the help of his mouth, he, as needed, either hung on the key, or leaned on it with the entire weight of his body. The resounding click of the lock finally giving in seemed to wake Gregor. Taking a breath, he said to himself:
“So, I still managed without a locksmith,” and put his head on the doorknob to open the door.
Since he opened it in this way, he himself was not yet visible when the door had already opened quite wide. First he had to slowly walk around one door, and he had to walk around it with great care so as not to fall on his back at the very entrance to the room. He was still busy with this difficult movement and, in a hurry, did not pay attention to anything else, when suddenly he heard a loud “Oh! “The manager - it sounded like the whistle of the wind - and then I saw him himself: being closest to the door, he pressed his palm to his open mouth and slowly backed away, as if he was being driven by some invisible, irresistible force. Mother - despite the presence of the manager, she stood here with her hair loose from the night, disheveled - first, clasping her hands, she looked at her father, and then took two steps towards Gregor. I collapsed, her skirts scattered around her, her face lowered to her chest, so he was not visible at all. The father clenched his fist threateningly, as if wanting to push Gregor into his room, then hesitantly looked around the living room, covered his eyes with his hands and began to cry, his powerful chest shaking.
Gregor did not enter the living room at all, but leaned against the fixed door from the inside, making only half of his torso visible and his head, tilted to one side, looking into the room. Meanwhile it became much lighter; on the opposite side of the street, a piece of an endless gray-black building clearly emerged - it was a hospital - with windows evenly and clearly cutting the facade; The rain was still falling, but only in large, individually distinguishable drops that seemed to fall separately on the ground. There was a huge amount of breakfast dishes on the table, because for my father, breakfast was the most important meal of the day, which lasted him for hours while reading newspapers. Just on the opposite wall hung a photograph of Gregor from his military service; “and it depicted a lieutenant who, with his hand on the hilt of his sword and smiling carefreely, inspired respect with his bearing and his uniform. The door to the hallway was open, and since the front door was also open, the landing and the beginning of the stairs leading down were visible.
“Well,” said Gregor, well aware that he was the only one who remained calm, “now I’ll get dressed, collect samples and go.” Do you want, do you want me to go? Well, Mr. Manager, you see, I’m not stubborn, I work with pleasure; traveling is tiring, but I couldn’t live without traveling. Where are you going, Mr. Manager? To the office? Yes? Will you report everything? Sometimes a person is not able to work, but then it’s time to remember your previous successes in the hope that you will work more carefully and diligently in the future, once the obstacle is eliminated. After all, I am so obliged to the owner, you know that very well. On the other hand, I have to take care of my parents and my sister. I'm in trouble, but I'll get out of it. Just don’t make my already difficult situation worse. Be on my side in the company! They don't like traveling salesmen, I know. They think they earn crazy money and at the same time live for their own pleasure. Nobody simply thinks about such a prejudice. But you, Mr. Manager, you know how things stand, you know better than the rest of the staff, and even, speaking between ourselves, better than the owner himself, who, as an entrepreneur, can easily make a mistake in his assessment to the disadvantage of one or another You also know the employee’s side very well; that, being away from the company for almost the entire year, a traveling salesman can easily become a victim of gossip, accidents and groundless accusations, from which he is completely unable to defend himself, since for the most part he knows nothing about them and only then, when, exhausted, he returns from the trip, experiences their nasty consequences, which are already far from the causes, on his own skin. Don’t leave, Mr. Manager, without giving me a single word to understand that you at least partially admit that I’m right!
But the manager turned away as soon as Gregor spoke, and, sulking, looked at him only over his shoulder, which was constantly twitching. And while Gregor was speaking, he did not stand still for a second, but walked away, without taking his eyes off Gregor, towards the door - he walked away, however, very slowly, as if some secret prohibition did not allow him to leave the room. He was already in the hall, and looking at how unexpectedly abruptly he took the last step out of the living room, one would think that he had just burned his foot. And in the hall he extended his right hand to the stairs, as if unearthly bliss awaited him there.
Gregor understood that he should under no circumstances let the manager go in such a mood, unless he wanted to jeopardize his position in the company. The parents were not aware of all this so clearly; Over the years, they got used to thinking that Gregor had settled in this company for the rest of his life, and the worries that had now fallen on them had completely deprived them of insight. But Gregor had this insight. The manager had to be detained, calmed, convinced and, ultimately, in his favor; after all, the future of Gregor and his family depended on it! Oh, if only my sister had not left! She is smart, she cried even when Gregor was still calmly lying on his back. And, of course, the manager, this ladies' man, would obey her; she would have closed the front door and with her persuasion would have dispelled his fears. But the sister had just left; Gregor had to act on his own. And, without thinking that he still did not know his current possibilities of movement, without thinking that his speech, perhaps and even most likely, again remained unintelligible, he left the door; made his way through the passage; I wanted to go to the manager, who, having already entered the landing, comically grabbed the railing with both hands, but immediately, looking for support, with a weak cry, he fell on all his paws. As soon as this happened, his body felt comfortable for the first time that morning; there was solid ground under the paws; they, as he noted to his joy, obeyed him perfectly; they themselves even sought to move him to where he wanted; and he had already decided that all his torment was about to finally end. But at that very moment, when he was swaying from the jolt, lying on the floor not far from his mother, just opposite her, the mother, who seemed completely numb, suddenly jumped to her feet, spread her arms wide, spread her fingers, shouted: “Help ! Help for God's sake! - bowed her head, as if she wanted to get a better look at Gregor, but instead she ran back senselessly; she forgot that there was a set table behind her; Having reached it, she, as if absent-mindedly, hurriedly sat down on it and, it seems, did not at all notice that next to her, coffee was pouring onto the carpet from an overturned large coffee pot.
“Mom, mom,” Gregor said quietly and looked up at her.
For a moment he completely forgot about the manager; However, at the sight of the pouring coffee, he could not resist and took several convulsive gulps of air. Seeing this, the mother screamed again, jumped off the table and fell on the chest of her father, who hurried towards her. But Gregor didn't have time to deal with his parents now; the manager was already on the stairs; resting his chin on the railing, he cast a last, farewell glance back. Gregor started to run in order to catch up with him; but the manager apparently guessed his intention, for, having jumped over a few steps, he disappeared. He just exclaimed:
"Ugh! - and this sound spread throughout the staircase. Unfortunately, the flight of the manager apparently completely upset the father, who had been holding up relatively stoically until now, because instead of running after the manager himself or at least not stopping Gregor from catching up with him, he grabbed the manager’s cane with his right hand, which he, along with his hat and He left his coat on the chair, and with his left hand he took a large newspaper from the table and, stamping his feet, waving the newspaper and a stick, began to drive Gregor into his room. None of Gregor's requests helped, and his father did not understand any of his requests; No matter how humbly Gregor shook his head, his father only stamped his feet harder and harder. The mother, despite the cold weather, opened the window wide and, leaning out of it, hid her face in her hands. A strong draft formed between the window and the stairwell, the curtains flew up, the newspapers rustled on the table, several sheets of paper floated across the floor: Father advanced inexorably, making hissing sounds like a savage. But Gregor had not yet learned to back away at all; he was moving back very slowly indeed. If Gregor had turned around, he would have immediately found himself in his room, but he was afraid to irritate his father with the slowness of his turn, and his father’s stick could at any moment deal him a fatal blow to his back or head. Finally, however, Gregor still had nothing else left, for, to his horror, he saw that, moving backwards, he was not even able to adhere to a certain direction; and therefore, without ceasing to fearfully glance sideways at his father, he began - as quickly as possible, but in fact very slowly - to turn around. His father, apparently, appreciated his good will and not only did not interfere with his turning, but even from afar directed his movement with the tip of his stick. If only it weren’t for that unbearable hissing of my father! Because of him, Gregor completely lost his head. He was already finishing the turn when, listening to this hissing, he made a mistake and turned a little back. But when he finally safely pointed his head through the open door, it turned out that his body was too wide to fit through it freely. Father, in his current state, of course, did not realize that he needed to open the other side of the door and give Gregor passage. He had one obsessive thought - to get Gregor into his room as soon as possible. Nor would he have tolerated the extensive preparation that Gregor required in order to stand up to his full height and thus, perhaps, pass through the door. As if there were no obstacles, he now drove Gregor forward with a special noise; the sounds coming from behind Gregor were no longer at all like the voice of his father alone; there really was no time for jokes, and Gregor - come what may - squeezed into the door. One side of his body rose up, he lay down diagonally in the passage, one side of him was completely wounded, ugly stains remained on the white door; soon he got stuck and could no longer move on his own; on one side his paws hung, trembling, at the top; in another they were pinned painfully to the floor. And then his father gave him a truly life-saving kick from behind, and Gregor, bleeding profusely, flew into his room. The door was slammed with a stick, and the long-awaited silence came.
Only at dusk did Gregor wake up from a heavy, fainting sleep. Even if he had not been disturbed, he would still have woken up not much later, since he felt sufficiently rested and slept, but it seemed to him that someone’s light footsteps and the sound of a carefully locked door leading into the hallway woke him up. On the ceiling and on the upper parts of the furniture there was the light of electric lanterns coming from the street, but below, at Gregor’s, it was dark. Slowly, still clumsily fumbling with his tentacles, which he was only now beginning to appreciate, Gregor crawled to the door to see what happened there. His left side seemed like a continuous long, unpleasantly raw welt, and he actually limped on both rows of his legs. During the morning's adventures, one leg - miraculously only one - was seriously wounded and dragged lifelessly along the floor.
Only at the door did he understand what, in fact, had drawn him there; it was the smell of something edible. There was a bowl of sweet milk with slices of white bread floating in it. He almost laughed with joy, for he was even more hungry than in the morning, and almost with his eyes dipped his head into the milk. But he soon pulled her out of there in disappointment; little toga. that because of his wounded left side it was difficult for him to eat - and he could only eat by opening his mouth wide and working with his whole body - the milk, which had always been his favorite drink and which his sister, of course, brought for that reason, now seemed to him completely tasteless; he turned away from the bowl almost in disgust and crawled back towards the middle of the room.
In the living room, as Gregor saw through the crack in the door, the light was turned on, but if usually his father was loudly reading the evening newspaper to his mother, and sometimes to his sister, now not a sound could be heard. It is possible, however, that this reading, which his sister always told him about and wrote about, has recently completely fallen out of use. But it was very quiet all around, although, of course, there were people in the apartment. “What a quiet life my family leads,” Gregor said to himself and, staring into the darkness, he felt great pride in the knowledge that he had managed to achieve such a life for his parents and sister in such a beautiful apartment. What if this peace, prosperity, contentment has now come to a terrible end? In order not to indulge in such thoughts, Gregor decided to warm up and began to crawl around the room.
Once during a long evening it opened slightly, but then one side door slammed shut and again the other; someone apparently wanted to come in, but fears got the better of them. Gregor stopped right at the door to the living room in order to somehow get an indecisive visitor or at least find out who it was, but the door no longer opened, and Gregor’s wait was in vain. In the morning, when the doors were locked, everyone wanted to come in to him, but now, when he opened one door himself, and the rest were undoubtedly unlocked during the day, no one came in, and meanwhile the keys stuck out.
Only late at night did they turn off the light in the living room, and then it immediately became clear that the parents and sister were still awake, because now, as it was clearly heard, they all left on tiptoe. Now, of course, no one would come to Gregor’s house until the morning, which means he had enough time to think without interference about how to rebuild his life. But the high, empty room in which he was forced to lie flat on the floor frightened him, although he did not understand the reason for his fear, because he had lived in this room for five years, and, turning almost unconsciously, he hastened to crawl away, not without shame. under the sofa, where, despite the fact that his back was pressed a little and his head could no longer be raised, he immediately felt very comfortable and only regretted that his body was too wide to fit entirely under the sofa.
He stayed there all night, spending it partly in drowsiness, which was now and then startled by hunger, and partly in worries and vague hopes, which invariably led him to the conclusion that for now he should behave calmly and was obliged to ease the family’s troubles with his patience and tact. which he caused her with his current condition.
It was already early in the morning—it was still almost night—Gregor had the opportunity to test the firmness of the decision he had just made, when his sister, almost completely dressed, opened the door from the hallway and warily looked into his room. She didn’t immediately notice Gregor, but when she saw him under the sofa - after all, somewhere, oh my God, he had to be, he couldn’t fly away! — I was so scared that, unable to control myself, I slammed the door from the outside. But as if repenting of her behavior, she immediately opened the door again and on tiptoe, as if she were a seriously ill person or even like a stranger, entered the room. Gregor stuck his head to the very edge of the sofa and began to watch his sister. Will she notice that he left the milk, and not at all because he was not hungry, and will she bring some other food that will suit him better? If she had not done this herself, he would sooner starve than pay her attention to this, although he was tempted to jump out from under the sofa, throw himself at his sister’s feet and ask her for some good food. But immediately noticing with surprise the still full bowl, from which the milk had only slightly spilled, the sister immediately picked it up, though not just with her hands, but with the help of a rag, and took it away. Gregor was very curious about what she would bring in return, and he began to make all sorts of guesses about this. But he would never have guessed what his sister, out of her kindness, actually did. To find out his taste, she brought him a whole selection of foods, spreading all this food on an old newspaper. There were stale, rotten vegetables; bones left over from dinner, covered in white congealed sauce; some raisins and almonds; a piece of cheese that Gregor declared inedible two days ago; a slice of dry bread, a slice of bread spread with butter, and a slice of bread spread with butter and sprinkled with salt. In addition to all this, she put him the same bowl, once and for all, probably allocated for Gregor, pouring water into it. Then, out of delicacy, knowing that Gregor would not eat in her presence, she hurried away and even turned the key in the door to show Gregor that he could arrange himself in whatever way was most convenient for him. Gregor's paws, as he now moved towards the food, began to flicker one faster than the other. And his wounds, apparently, had completely healed, he no longer felt any hindrances and, surprised by this, remembered how more than a month ago he had slightly cut his finger with a knife and how just the day before yesterday this wound was still causing him quite severe pain. “Have I become less sensitive now? “- he thought and already greedily poured into the cheese, to which he was immediately drawn more insistently than to any other food. With eyes watering from pleasure, he quickly destroyed the cheese, vegetables, and sauce in a row; Fresh food, on the contrary, he did not like; even its smell seemed unbearable to him, and he pulled away from it the pieces that he wanted to eat. He had long finished eating and was lazily lying in the same place where he had eaten, when his sister, as a sign that it was time for him to leave, slowly turned the key. This immediately startled him, although he was almost dozing, and he again hurried under the sofa. But it took him great effort to stay under the sofa even for the short time while his sister was in the room, because from the rich food his body became somewhat rounded and in the cramped space it was difficult for him to breathe. Overcoming weak attacks of suffocation, he watched with bulging eyes as his unsuspecting sister swept into one pile with a broom not only his leftovers, but also food, which Gregor did not touch at all, as if this would no longer be useful, as she hastily threw it all away into a bucket, covered it with a board and took it out. Before she had time to turn away, Gregor had already crawled out from under the sofa, stretched out and swelled up.
In this way, Gregor now received food every day - once in the morning, when his parents and servants were still asleep, and a second time after the communal dinner, when his parents again went to bed, and his sister sent the servants out of the house on some errand. They, too, of course, did not want Gregor to die of hunger, but knowing all the details of feeding Gregor would probably have been unbearably difficult for them, and, probably, the sister tried to save them at least from small sorrows, because they suffered in the very that's enough.
On what pretext the doctor and mechanic were escorted out of the apartment that first morning, Gregor never found out: since he was not understood, it never occurred to anyone, including his sister, that he understood others, and therefore, when his sister I was in his room, he only heard sighs and calls to the saints. Only later, when she had gotten a little used to everything - there was, of course, no question of getting used to it at all - would Gregor sometimes catch some obviously benevolent remark. “Today he liked the treat,” she would say if Gregor ate everything clean, whereas otherwise, which gradually began to happen more and more often, she would say almost sadly: “There’s everything left again.”
But without learning any news directly, Gregor eavesdropped on conversations in neighboring rooms, and as soon as he heard voices from anywhere, he immediately hurried to the corresponding door and pressed his whole body against it. Especially at first, there was not a single conversation that did not concern him in one way or another, even if secretly. For two days at each meal they discussed how to behave now; but even between meals they talked about the same topic, and now there were always at least two family members at home, because no one, apparently, wanted to stay at home alone, and it was impossible for everyone to leave the apartment at once. By the way, the servant - it was not entirely clear what exactly she knew about what had happened - on the very first day, falling to her knees, asked her mother to let her go immediately, and saying goodbye a quarter of an hour after that, with tears she thanked for the dismissal as for the greatest mercy and She gave, although this was not at all required of her, a terrible oath that she would not tell anyone about anything.
My sister and her mother had to start cooking; This, however, was not particularly difficult, since no one ate almost anything. Gregor heard every now and then how they vainly tried to persuade each other to eat and the answer was “Thank you, I’m already full” or something similar. It seems they stopped drinking too. My sister often asked my father if he wanted beer, and willingly volunteered to go get him, and when my father was silent, she said, hoping to rid him of any doubts, that she could send a janitor for beer, but then my father answered with a decisive “no,” and they didn’t talk about it anymore.
Already during the first day, the father explained to the mother and sister the financial status of the family and prospects for the future. He often got up from the table and took out from his small home cash register, which was preserved from his company that burned down five years ago, either some receipt or a notebook. You could hear him unlock the complex lock and, having taken out what he was looking for, turn the key again. These father's explanations were partly the first comforting news Gregor had heard since the beginning of his imprisonment. He believed that his father had absolutely nothing left from that enterprise; in any case, his father did not say otherwise, and Gregor did not ask him about it. Gregor’s only concern at that time was to do everything so that the family would forget the bankruptcy, which had led everyone to a state of complete hopelessness, as soon as possible. Therefore, he then began to work with special ardor and almost immediately became a traveler from a little clerk, who, of course, had completely different earnings and whose business successes immediately, in the form of commissions, turned into cash, which could be deposited at home on the table in front of the surprised and happy family. Those were good times, and they were never repeated, at least in their former splendor, although Gregor later earned so much that he could and did support his family. Everyone is used to this - both the family and Gregor himself; they accepted his money with gratitude, and he gave it willingly, but there was no longer any special warmth. Only his sister remained close to Gregor; and since, unlike him, she loved music very much and played the violin touchingly, Gregor had a secret idea of enrolling her in the conservatory next year, despite the large expenses that this would cause and which would have to be covered by something else. During Gregor's short stays in the city, the conservatory was often mentioned in conversations with his sister, but it was always mentioned as a wonderful, pipe dream, and even these innocent mentions caused displeasure in the parents; however, Gregor thought very definitely about the conservatory and was going to solemnly announce his intention on Christmas Eve.
Such thoughts, completely useless in his current state, were spinning in Gregor’s head as he stood, listening, and stuck to the door. Having become tired, he stopped listening and, accidentally bowing his head, hit the door, but immediately straightened up again, since the slightest noise he made was heard outside the door and forced everyone to fall silent. “What is he doing there again? “- the father said after a short pause, clearly looking at the door, and only after that the interrupted conversation was gradually resumed.
So, gradually (for his father repeated himself in his explanations - partly because he had long retired from these affairs, partly because his mother did not understand everything the first time) Gregor learned in sufficient detail that, despite all the troubles, from From the old days, a small fortune still remained and that, since interest was not touched, over the years it has even grown a little. In addition, it turned out that the money that Gregor brought home every month - he kept only a few guilders for himself - was not entirely spent and formed a small capital. Standing outside the door, Gregor nodded his head vigorously, delighted by such unexpected forethought and thrift. In fact, he could have used this extra money to pay off part of his father’s debt and hasten the day when he, Gregor, would have been willing to give up his service, but now it turned out to be undoubtedly better that his father used the money this way.
This money, however, was too little for the family to live on the interest; they would be enough for maybe a year of life, at most two, no more. They thus amounted only to an amount that should, in fact, be put aside for a rainy day, and not spent; and money had to be earned for living. My father, although healthy, was an old man; he had not worked for five years and did not have much hope for himself; During these five years, which turned out to be the first vacation in his busy but unlucky life, he became very flabby and therefore became quite heavy on his feet. Surely the old mother, who suffered from asthma, had difficulty even moving around the apartment, and every other day, gasping for breath, lay on the couch near the open window, had to earn money? Or maybe they should have been earned by the sister, who at seventeen was still a child and had every right to live the same way as before - to dress elegantly, sleep late, help with the housework, take part in some modest entertainment and First of all, play the violin. When the conversation came up about this need to earn money, Gregor always let go of the door and threw himself onto the cool leather sofa that stood near the door, because he felt hot from shame and grief.
He often lay there for long nights, not falling asleep for a single moment, and spent hours rubbing himself against the skin of the sofa or, sparing no effort, moving a chair to the window, climbing up to the opening and, leaning against the chair, leaning against the windowsill, which was clearly just some kind of memory about the feeling of liberation that had come over him before when he looked out of the window. In fact, he saw all remote objects worse and worse day by day; the hospital opposite, which he had previously cursed - it had become so familiar to him, Gregor could no longer distinguish it at all, and if he had not known for certain that he lived on the quiet, but quite urban street of Charlottenstrasse, he might have thought that he was looking out of his window onto the desert, into which the gray earth and the gray sky merged indistinguishably. As soon as the attentive sister saw only twice that the chair was standing by the window, each time, after tidying the room, she began to move the chair again to the window and even leave the inner window sashes open from now on.
If Gregor could talk to his sister and thank her for everything she did for him, it would be easier for him to accept her services; and he suffered because of this.
True, the sister tried in every possible way to soften the agony of the situation, and the more time passed, the better she succeeded, of course, but everything became much clearer to Gregor over time. Her very arrival was terrible for him. Although, in general, the sister diligently protected everyone from the sight of Gregor’s room, now, having entered, she did not waste time closing the door behind her, but ran straight to the window, hastily, as if she was about to suffocate, threw it wide open, and then, no matter how cold it was, she lingered for a minute at the window, breathing deeply. With this noisy rush she frightened Gregor twice a day; he was trembling all the time under the sofa, although he knew very well that she would undoubtedly relieve him of his fears if only she could be in the same room with him with the window closed.
One day - about a month had already passed since the transformation that happened to Gregor, and the sister, therefore, had no particular reason to be surprised at his appearance - she came a little earlier than usual and found Gregor looking out the window, where he stood motionless, presenting a rather terrible sight . If she had simply not entered the room, there would have been nothing unexpected for Gregor, since, being at the window, he did not allow her to open it, but she not only did not enter, but pulled back and locked the door; to an outsider it might even seem that Gregor was lying in wait for her and wanted to bite her. Gregor, of course, immediately hid under the sofa, but he had to wait until noon for her return, and there was some kind of unusual anxiety in her. From this he realized that she still could not stand and would never be able to stand his appearance, and that it would cost her great effort not to run away at the sight of even that small part of his body that protrudes from under the sofa. To save his sister from this spectacle, he once carried a sheet on his back - this job took him four hours - onto the sofa and placed it in such a way that it hid him entirely and his sister, even bending over, could not see him. If, in her opinion, there was no need for this sheet, the sister could have removed it, because Gregor had not hidden himself like that for pleasure, that was clear enough, but the sister left the sheet in place, and Gregor even thought that he had caught a grateful look when he carefully lifted the sheet with his head to see how his sister accepted this innovation.
For the first two weeks, his parents could not bring themselves to come in to see him, and he often heard them speak with praise of his sister’s current work, whereas before they had been angry with her sister every now and then, because she seemed to them a rather empty girl. Now both father and mother often stood waiting in front of Gregor's room while his sister cleaned it, and as soon as she left there, they forced her to tell in detail what the room was like, what Gregor ate, how he behaved this time and noticeably Is there even a slight improvement? However, the mother relatively soon wanted to visit Gregor, but her father and sister kept her from doing so - at first with reasonable arguments, which Gregor, listening to them very carefully, fully approved. Later, she had to be restrained by force, and when she shouted: “Let me go to Gregor, this is my unfortunate son! Don't you understand that I must go to him? “Gregor thought that it would probably really be good if his mother came to him. of course, not every day, but maybe once a week; after all, she understood everything much better than her sister, who, with all her courage, was only a child and, in the end, probably only out of childish frivolity, took on such a burden.
Gregor's wish to see his mother was soon fulfilled. Taking care of his parents, Gregor no longer showed up at the window during the daytime, crawling across several square meters of floor was not possible for a long time, it was already difficult for him to lie still even at night, food soon ceased to give him any pleasure, and he acquired the habit crawl along the walls and ceiling for fun. He especially loved hanging from the ceiling; it was not at all like lying on the floor; I breathed more freely, my body swayed easily; in that almost blissful and absent-minded state in which he was up there, he sometimes, to his own surprise, broke down and plopped down on the floor. But now, of course, he controlled his body completely differently than before, and no matter how high he fell, he did not cause himself any harm. The sister immediately noticed that Gregor had found a new entertainment - after all, while crawling, he left traces of a sticky substance everywhere - and decided to provide him with as much space as possible for this activity, removing from the room the furniture that was preventing him from crawling, that is, first of all, the chest and the desk. But she was unable to do it alone; She did not dare to call her father for help, and the servants certainly would not have helped her, for, although this sixteen-year-old girl, hired after the departure of the previous cook, did not refuse the position, she asked permission to keep the kitchen locked and open the door only upon a special call ; therefore, the sister had no choice but to bring her mother one day, in the absence of her father. She headed towards Gregor with exclamations of excited joy, but fell silent before the door of his room. The sister, of course, first checked that everything was in order in the room; only after that did she let her mother in. With the greatest haste, Gregor crumpled the sheet and pulled it even further; it seemed as if the sheet had been thrown onto the sofa by accident. This time Gregor did not peek out from under the sheet; he refused the opportunity to see his mother this time, but was glad that she finally came.
“Come in, you can’t see him,” the sister said and clearly led her mother by the hand.
Gregor heard how weak women tried to move the heavy old chest from its place and how his sister always took on most of the work, not listening to the warnings of her mother, who was afraid that she would overstrain herself. This took a very long time. When they had been fiddling around for about a quarter of an hour, the mother said that it was better to leave the chest where it stood: firstly, it was too heavy and they would not be able to handle it before their father arrived, and standing in the middle of the room, the chest would completely block Gregor’s path, and secondly, it is still unknown whether Gregor is pleased that the furniture is being taken out. She said that it seemed rather unpleasant to him; for example, the sight of a bare wall is downright depressing; why shouldn’t it also depress Gregor, since he is used to this furniture and therefore feels completely abandoned in an empty room?
“And really,” the mother concluded very quietly, although she already spoke almost in a whisper, as if she did not want Gregor, whose whereabouts she did not know, to hear even the sound of her voice, and that he did not understand the words, she did not I doubted - don’t we, by removing the furniture, show that we have stopped hoping for any improvement and are ruthlessly leaving it to ourselves? In my opinion, it is best to try to leave the room the same as it was before, so that Gregor, when he returns to us, will not find any changes in it and will quickly forget this time.
Hearing his mother’s words, Gregor thought that the lack of direct communication with people during the monotonous life within the family had apparently clouded his mind during these two months, because otherwise he could not explain to himself the sudden need to find himself in an empty room. Did he really really want to turn his warm, comfortably furnished room with inherited furniture into a cave, where, true, he could crawl unhindered in all directions, but would quickly and completely forget his human past? After all, he was already close to this, and only his mother’s voice, which he had not heard for a long time, stirred him up. Nothing should have been removed; everything had to stay in place; the beneficial effect of furniture on his condition was necessary; and if the furniture prevented him from crawling senselessly, then this was not to his detriment, but to his great benefit.
But my sister, alas, had a different opinion; having become accustomed - and not without reason - to act as an expert in defiance of her parents when discussing Gregor's affairs, she even now considered her mother's advice sufficient reason to insist on the removal of not only the chest, but all the furniture in general, except for the sofa, which she could not do without. . This demand was caused, of course, not only by the sister’s childish stubbornness and her self-confidence so unexpectedly and so difficultly acquired recently; no, she really saw that Gregor needed a lot of space to move, and, apparently, he did not use furniture at all. Perhaps, however, this was also reflected in the ardor of imagination characteristic of girls of this age, which is always glad to have an opportunity to give itself free rein and now prompted Greta to make Gregor’s position even more terrifying in order to provide him with even greater services than before. After all, it’s unlikely that anyone other than Greta would have dared to enter a room where there were only Gregor and bare walls.
Therefore, she did not heed the advice of her mother, who, experiencing some kind of uncertainty and anxiety in this room, soon fell silent and began, to the best of her ability, to help her sister, who was putting the chest out the door. At worst, Gregor could do without the chest, but the desk had to remain. And as soon as both women, along with the chest, which they were groaning and pushing, left the room, Gregor stuck his head out from under the sofa to find a way to intervene carefully and as delicately as possible. But as luck would have it, the mother was the first to return, and Greta, left alone in the next room, was swinging, clutching it with both hands, the chest, which, of course, she never moved from its place. Mother was not used to the sight of Gregor, she could even get sick when she saw him, and so Gregor fearfully backed away to the other end of the sofa, causing the sheet hanging in front to move. “That was enough to get my mother's attention. She stopped, stood for a while and went to Greta.
Although Gregor kept telling himself that nothing special was happening and that some furniture was simply being rearranged in the apartment, the incessant walking of women, their quiet exclamations, the sounds of furniture scraping the floor - all this, as he soon admitted to himself, seemed huge, all-encompassing to him. commotion; and, drawing his head in. pressing his legs to his body, and pressing his body tightly to the floor, he was forced to tell himself that he could not stand this for long. They emptied his room, took away from him everything that was dear to him; they had already taken out the chest containing his jigsaw and other tools; Now they were moving the desk, which had already managed to push through the parquet, at which he prepared his lessons while studying at a trade school, at a real school, and even at a public school - and he no longer had time to delve into the good intentions of these women, whose existence, by the way, he almost knew I forgot, because from fatigue they worked in silence and only the heavy tramp of their feet could be heard.
Therefore, he jumped out from under the sofa - the women were just in the adjacent room, they were catching their breath, leaning on the desk - changed the direction of his run four times, and really not knowing what to save first, he saw a particularly noticeable one on the already empty wall the portrait of a lady in furs hurriedly climbed onto it and pressed himself against the glass, which, holding him, pleasantly cooled his stomach. At least no one will probably take this portrait, now completely covered by Gregor, from him. He turned his head towards the living room door so he could see the women when they returned.
They did not rest very long and were already returning; Greta almost carried her mother, hugging her with one arm.
- What will we take now? - Greta said and looked around. Then her gaze met the gaze of Gregor hanging on the wall. Apparently, thanks to her mother's presence, having retained her composure, she leaned towards her to prevent her from turning around, and said - she said, however, trembling and at random:
“Shouldn’t we go back to the living room for a minute?” Greta's intention was clear to Gregor - she wanted to take his mother to a safe place, and then drive him off the wall. Well, let him try! He sits on the portrait and will not give it up. He'll soon grab Greta's face.
But it was Greta’s words that alarmed her mother, she stepped aside, saw a huge brown spot on the colorful wallpaper, screamed, before it really dawned on her consciousness that it was Gregor, shrilly and shrill: “Oh, my God, My God! - fell with arms outstretched in exhaustion on the sofa and froze.
- Hey, Gregor! - the sister shouted, raising her fist and sparkling her eyes.
These were the first words addressed to him directly after the transformation that happened to him. She ran into the adjacent room for some drops with which she could revive her mother; Gregor also wanted to help his mother - there was still time to save the portrait; but Gregor stuck firmly to the glass and forcibly tore himself away from it; then he ran into the next room, as if he could give his sister some advice, as in former times, but was forced to stand idly behind her; While sorting through different vials, she turned around and got scared; some bottle fell on the floor and broke; a shrapnel wounded Gregor's face, and he was sprayed all over with some kind of caustic medicine; Without stopping any longer, Greta took as many vials as she could grab and ran to her mother; She slammed the door with her foot. Now Gregor found himself cut off from his mother, who, through his fault, was perhaps close to death; he should not have opened the door if he did not want to drive his sister away, and the sister should have been with her mother; now he had no choice but to wait; and, filled with remorse and anxiety, he began to crawl, climbed everything: walls, furniture and ceiling - and finally, when the whole room was already spinning around him, he fell in despair onto the middle of the large table.
Several moments passed. Gregor lay exhausted on the table, everything was quiet all around, perhaps this was a good sign. Suddenly the bell rang. The servants, of course, locked themselves in their kitchen, and Greta had to open the door. It's father returning.
- What's happened? - were his first words; Greta's appearance must have given it all away to him. Greta answered in a dull voice; she obviously pressed her face to her father’s chest:
“Mom fainted, but she’s feeling better now.” Gregor broke free.
“After all, I was waiting for this,” said the father, “after all, I always told you about this, but you women don’t listen to anyone.”
It was clear to Gregor that his father, having misinterpreted Greta’s too meager words, decided that Gregor had used force. Therefore, now Gregor had to try to somehow soften his father, because he had neither the time nor the opportunity to explain to him. And running to the door of his room, he pressed himself against it so that his father, entering from the hall, would immediately see that Gregor was ready to immediately return to his place and that, therefore, there was no need to drive him back, but simply open the door - and he would immediately will disappear.
But my father was in no mood to notice such subtleties.
- A! - he exclaimed as soon as he entered, in a tone as if he was both angry and glad. Gregor took his head away from the door and raised it to meet his father. He had never imagined his father as he now saw him; however, recently, having started crawling around the whole room, Gregor no longer followed what was happening in the apartment, as before, and now, in fact, should not have been surprised at any changes. And yet, and yet - was it really the father? The same man who used to wearily bury himself in bed when Gregor went on business trips; who on the evenings of his arrivals met him at home in a dressing gown and, unable to get out of his chair, only raised his hands as a sign of joy; and during rare walks together on some Sunday or on major holidays, in a tightly buttoned old coat, carefully putting his crutch forward, he walked between Gregor and his mother - who themselves moved slowly - even a little slower than them , and if he wanted to say something, he almost always stopped to gather his companions around him. Now he was quite dignified; he wore a formal blue uniform with gold buttons, such as bank messengers wear; a fat double chin hung over a high, tight collar; black eyes looked attentively and lively from under bushy eyebrows; His usually disheveled, gray hair was immaculately parted and pomaded. He threw his cap with the gold monogram of some bank, probably, on the sofa, arcing across the room, and, hiding his hands in his trouser pockets, causing the tails of his long uniform to bend back, he moved towards Gregor with his face distorted with anger. Apparently, he himself did not know what to do; but he raised his feet unusually high, and Gregor was amazed at the enormous size of his soles. However, Gregor did not hesitate, because from the first day of his new life he knew that his father considered it only right to treat him with the greatest severity. So he ran away from his father, stopping as soon as his father stopped, and rushing forward as soon as his father moved. In this way they made several circles around the room without any significant incident, and since they moved slowly, it did not even look like a pursuit. Therefore, Gregor remained on the floor for now, afraid, moreover, that if he climbed onto the wall or the ceiling, it would seem to his father the height of insolence. However, Gregor felt that even such running around he could not stand for long; after all, if the father took one step, then he, Gregor, had to make countless movements during the same time. The shortness of breath became more and more noticeable, and yet his lungs could not be completely relied upon before. And so, when he, barely dragging his feet and barely opening his eyes, tried to gather all his strength to escape, not thinking in despair about any other method of salvation and almost forgetting that he could use the walls, lined here, however, with intricate carved furniture with many sharp projections and teeth - suddenly, very close to him, some object thrown from above fell and rolled in front of him. It was an apple; the second immediately flew after the first; Gregor stopped in horror; there was no point in running further, because his father decided to bombard him with apples. He filled his pockets with the contents of the fruit bowl on the sideboard and now, without very careful aim, threw one apple after another. As if electrified, these little red apples rolled across the floor and collided with each other. One lightly thrown apple touched Gregor's back, but rolled off without harming him. But another, launched immediately after, was firmly stuck in Gregor’s back. Gregor wanted to crawl away, as if a change of place could relieve the sudden incredible pain; but he felt as if he were nailed to the floor and stretched out, losing consciousness. He only had time to see how the door of his room opened and his mother in her undershirt flew into the living room, ahead of her sister, who was shouting something; the sister undressed her to make it easier for her to breathe during a faint; how the mother ran up to her father and, one after another, her untied skirts fell to the floor and how she, tripping over the skirts, threw herself on her father’s chest and, hugging him, completely merged with him - but then Gregor’s vision had already given up - engulfing with her palms on the back of her father’s head, she prayed that he would spare Gregor’s life.
A severe wound from which Gregor suffered for more than a month (no one dared to remove the apple, and it remained in his body as a visual reminder), this severe wound reminded, it seems, even his father that, despite his current deplorable and disgusting appearance, Gregor still -after all, a member of the family, that he cannot be treated as an enemy, but in the name of family duty, one must suppress disgust and endure, just endure.
And if because of his wound, Gregor is forever, probably. lost his former mobility and now, to cross the room, he, like an old invalid, needed several long, long minutes - there was nothing to think about crawling overhead - then for this deterioration of his condition he was, in his opinion, quite rewarded by the fact that in the evening the living room door always opened, a door that he had begun to watch about two hours before, and, lying in the darkness of his room, invisible from the living room, he could see his relatives sitting at the illuminated table and listen to their speeches, so to speak, with general permission, that is, completely differently than before.
These were, however, no longer those lively conversations of earlier times, which Gregor always remembered with longing in the closets of hotels, when he fell, tired, onto a damp bed. Most often it was very quiet. Soon after dinner my father fell asleep in his chair; mother and sister tried to remain quiet; the mother, leaning forward strongly, closer to the light, was sewing fine linen for a ready-made dress shop; the sister, who entered the store as a saleswoman, studied shorthand and French in the evenings, so that, perhaps, someday later she would achieve a better position. Sometimes the father woke up and, as if not noticing that he was sleeping, said to his mother: “How long have you been sewing today! - after which he immediately fell asleep again, and his mother and sister smiled tiredly at each other.
With some stubbornness, my father refused to take off his delivery boy’s uniform at home; and while his robe hung uselessly on a hook, the father dozed in his place, fully dressed, as if he was always ready for service and even here was just waiting for the voice of his superior. Because of this, his initially not new uniform, despite the care of his mother and sister, lost its neat appearance, and Gregor used to spend entire evenings looking at this, although completely stained, but sparkling with invariably polished buttons, clothes in which the old man very uncomfortable and yet slept peacefully.
When the clock struck ten, the mother tried to quietly wake up the father and persuade him to go to bed, because in the chair he could not sleep that sound sleep, which he, who began service at six o'clock, desperately needed. But out of the stubbornness that had taken possession of his father since he became a delivery boy, he always remained at the table, although, as a rule, he fell asleep again, after which it was only with the greatest difficulty that he could be persuaded to move from his chair to the bed. No matter how much his mother and sister tried to persuade him, he slowly shook his head for at least a quarter of an hour, without opening his eyes or getting up. His mother tugged at his sleeve, spoke kind words into his ear, his sister looked up from her studies to help her mother, but this had no effect on his father. He only sank even deeper into the chair. Only when the women took him under the armpits did he open his eyes, look alternately at his mother and then at his sister and say: “Here it is, life. This is my peace in my old age.” And, leaning on both women, he slowly, as if he could not cope with the weight of his own body, got up, allowed them to lead him to the door, and having reached it, nodded to them to leave, and followed on his own further, but his mother left in a hurry sewing, and my sister - a pen to run after her father and help him get into bed.
Who in this overworked and overworked family had time to care about Gregor more than was absolutely necessary? Household expenses were increasingly reduced; the servants were eventually paid off; For the hardest work, a huge bony woman with gray flowing hair now came in the mornings and evenings; everything else, besides her extensive sewing work, was done by the mother. It was even necessary to sell the family jewelry, which his mother and sister had previously worn with great pleasure on special occasions - Gregor learned about this in the evenings, when everyone was discussing the proceeds. Most of all, however, they always complained that this apartment, which was too large for the current circumstances, could not be left, because it was not clear how to move Gregor. But Gregor understood that it was not only caring for him that was hindering the relocation; he could have easily been transported in some box with holes for air; What kept the family from changing apartments was mainly complete hopelessness and the thought that such a misfortune had befallen them that had never happened to any of their friends and relatives. The family did absolutely everything that the world requires of poor people, the father brought breakfast to small bank employees, the mother worked hard sewing linen for strangers, the sister, obeying the customers, scurried behind the counter, but they did not have enough strength for more. And the wound on Gregor’s back began to hurt again every time when his mother and sister, having put their father to bed, returned to the living room, but did not get to work, but sat down next to him, cheek to cheek; when his mother, pointing to Gregor’s room, now said: “Close that door, Greta,” and Gregor again found himself in the dark, and the women behind the wall shed tears together or sat staring at one point, without tears.
Gregor spent his nights and days almost completely without sleep. Sometimes he thought that... then the door will open and he will again, just as before, take the family’s affairs into his own hands; in his thoughts, after a long break, the owner and manager, traveling salesmen and boy apprentices, a foolish janitor, two or three friends from other companies, a maid from a provincial hotel - a sweet fleeting memory, a cashier from a hat store, whom he seriously looked after - reappeared in his thoughts , but courted him for too long - they all appeared interspersed with strangers or already forgotten people, but instead of helping him and his family, they turned out, one and all, unapproachable, and he was glad when they disappeared. And then he again lost all desire to take care of his family, he was overcome by indignation at the poor care, and, not imagining what he would like to eat, he plotted to climb into the pantry to take everything he needed, even though he was not hungry. due. No longer thinking about how to give Gregor special pleasure, now in the morning and afternoon, before running to her store, the sister would stuff some food into Gregor’s room so that in the evening, no matter whether he touched it or - as happened more often everything - will leave it untouched, sweep away this food with one wave of a broom. Cleaning the room, which my sister now always did in the evenings, went as quickly as possible. There were dirty streaks along the walls, and heaps of dust and debris lay everywhere. At first, when his sister appeared, Gregor hid in especially neglected corners, as if reproaching her for such a choice of place. But even if he had stood there for weeks, the sister still would not have corrected herself; She saw the dirt no worse than he did, she just decided to leave it. At the same time, with a resentment that was completely uncharacteristic of her in earlier times, and which had now taken over the entire family, she made sure that cleaning Gregor’s room remained only her, her sister’s, business. One day, Gregor’s mother started a big cleaning in Gregor’s room, for which she used up several buckets of water - such an abundance of moisture, by the way, was unpleasant for Gregor, and, offended, he lay motionless on the sofa - but the mother was punished for this. As soon as the sister noticed a change in Gregor's room in the evening, she, deeply offended, ran into the living room and, despite the spells of her mother, who was wringing her hands, burst into sobs, to which the parents - the father, of course, jumped up from his chair in fright - looked at first helplessly and surprised; then they too began to fuss: the father, on the right, began to reproach the mother for not leaving this cleaning to her sister; the sister, on the left, on the contrary, shouted that she would never be allowed to clean Gregor’s room again; meanwhile, the mother tried to drag the father into the bedroom, who completely lost control of himself from excitement; shaking with sobs, the sister pounded the table with her small fists; and Gregor hissed loudly with anger, because it never occurred to anyone to close the door and save him from this sight and this noise.
But even when the sister, exhausted from the service, got tired of taking care of Gregor as before, the mother did not have to replace her, but Gregor was still not left without supervision. Now it was the maid's turn. This old widow, who had probably endured a lot of sorrows on her mighty shoulders during her long life, in essence had no disgust for Gregor. Without any curiosity, she one day accidentally opened the door of his room and at the sight of Gregor, who, although no one was chasing him, was running across the floor in surprise, she stopped in surprise, folding her hands on her stomach. From then on, she invariably, morning and evening, would casually open the door and look in at Gregor. At first she even called him to her with words that probably seemed friendly to her, such as: “Come here, dung beetle! ” or: “Where is our bug? Gregor did not answer her, he did not move from his place, as if the door had not opened at all. It would be better if this maid was ordered to clean his room daily, instead of being allowed to bother him needlessly whenever she pleases! One early morning - heavy rain was beating on the windows, probably already a sign of the coming spring - when the maid began her usual chatter, Gregor became so angry that, as if preparing for an attack, he slowly, however, unsteadily, turned to to the maid. She, however, instead of being frightened, only lifted the chair that stood by the door up and opened her mouth wide, and it was clear that she intended to close it no sooner than the chair in her hand fell on Gregor’s back.
Gregor now ate almost nothing. Only when he accidentally passed by the food prepared for him did he take a piece of food into his mouth for fun, and then, after keeping it there for several hours, for the most part. spat out. At first he thought that the sight of his room was taking away his appetite, but he very quickly came to terms with the changes in his room. The habit had already developed of putting things in this room for which there was no other place, and there were now a lot of such things, because one room was rented to three tenants. These strict people - all three, as Gregor saw through the crack, had thick beards - meticulously sought order, and order not only in their room, but, since they had already settled here, in the entire apartment and, therefore, especially in the kitchen. They couldn't stand rubbish, especially dirty ones. In addition, they brought most of the furniture with them. For this reason, there were a lot of extra things in the house that could not be sold, but it was a pity to throw them away.
They all moved to Gregor's room. Likewise, the ash drawer and trash can from the kitchen. Everything even temporarily unnecessary was simply thrown into Gregor’s room by the maid, who was always in a hurry; fortunately, Gregor usually only saw the object being thrown away and the hand holding it. Perhaps the maid was going to put these things in place on occasion, or; on the contrary, throw it all away at once, but for now they would remain lying where they had once been thrown, unless Gregor, making his way through this junk, moved it from its place - at first unwillingly, since he had nowhere to crawl, and then with an ever-increasing with pleasure, although after such travels he could not move for hours from mortal fatigue and melancholy.
Since the residents sometimes dined at home, in the common living room, the living room door remained locked on other evenings, but Gregor easily put up with this, especially since even on those evenings when it was open, he often did not use it, but lay there, which the family did not notice , in the darkest corner of his room. But one day the maid left the door to the living room ajar; It remained ajar in the evening, when the residents came in and the lights came on. They sat down at the end of the table where father, mother and Gregor had previously eaten, unrolled their napkins and picked up their knives and forks. Immediately the mother appeared at the door with a dish of meat, and immediately behind her the sister appeared with a full dish of potatoes. There was a lot of steam coming from the food. The residents bent over the dishes placed in front of them, as if wanting to check them before starting to eat, and the one who sat in the middle and apparently enjoyed special respect from the other two, actually cut a piece of meat right on the dish, clearly wanting to determine Is it soft enough and should I send it back? He was pleased, and his mother and sister, who had been watching him intently, smiled with relief.
The owners themselves ate in the kitchen. However, before going to the kitchen, the father entered the living room and, making a general bow, walked around the table with his cap in his hands. The residents rose together and muttered something into their beards. Left alone afterwards, they ate in complete, almost silence. It seemed strange to Gregor that out of all the various noises of the meal, the sound of chewing teeth stood out every now and then, as if this was supposed to show Gregor that eating requires teeth and that the most beautiful jaws, if they are without teeth, are no good. “Yes, I could eat something,” Gregor said to himself anxiously, “but not what they eat. How much these people eat, and I perish! »
It was that evening - Gregor did not remember that during all this time he had ever heard his sister play - the sounds of a violin came from the kitchen. The tenants had already finished dinner, the middle one, taking out a newspaper, gave the other two a sheet each, and now they sat back and read. When the violin began to play, they listened, stood up and tiptoed to the front door, where they huddled together and stopped. Apparently they were heard in the kitchen, and the father shouted:
- Maybe the music is unpleasant for the gentlemen? It can be stopped this very minute.
“On the contrary,” said the middle tenant, “wouldn’t the young lady like to come to us and play in this room, where, really, it’s much nicer and more comfortable?”
- Oh, please! - exclaimed the father, as if he were playing the violin.
The residents returned to the living room and began to wait. Soon the father appeared with a music stand, the mother with sheet music and the sister with a violin. The sister calmly began preparing for the game;
the parents, who had never rented rooms before and therefore treated the tenants with exaggerated politeness, did not dare sit on their own chairs; the father leaned against the door, putting his right hand over the side of his buttoned livery, between two buttons; the mother, to whom one of the residents offered a chair, left it where he accidentally put it, and she herself sat on the sidelines, in the corner.
My sister started playing. Father and mother, each for their part, carefully watched the movements of her hands. Gregor, attracted by the game, ventured a little further than usual, and his head was already in the living room. He was hardly surprised that lately he had begun to treat others less sensitively; Previously, this sensitivity was his pride. Meanwhile, right now he had more reason than ever to hide, for due to the dust that lay everywhere in his room and rose at the slightest movement, he himself was also covered in dust; on his back and sides he carried with him threads, hair, leftover food; His indifference to everything was too great to lie down, as before, several times a day on his back and clean himself on the carpet. But, despite his unkempt appearance, he was not afraid to move forward along the sparkling floor of the living room.
However, no one paid attention to him. The relatives were completely absorbed in playing the violin, and the residents, who at first, with their hands in their trouser pockets, stood right next to the sister’s music stand, from where they all looked at the sheet music, which undoubtedly disturbed the sister, soon moved away, talking in a low voice and lowering their heads, to window, where my father was now casting worried glances. It really looked like they had been deceived in their hope of listening to a good, interesting violin playing, that they were bored with this whole performance and were only sacrificing their peace out of politeness. Particularly indicative of their great nervousness was the way they blew cigar smoke upward from their nostrils and from their mouths. And my sister played so well! Her face bent to one side, her gaze carefully and sadly followed the notes. Gregor crawled forward a little more and pressed his head to the floor so that he could meet her eyes. Was he an animal if music moved him so much? It seemed to him that the path to desired, unknown food was opening before him. He was determined to make his way to his sister and, tugging at her skirt, let her know that she should go with her violin to his room, because no one here would appreciate her playing as much as he would appreciate this playing. He decided not to let his sister out of his room anymore, at least as long as he lived; let his terrible appearance finally serve him; he wanted to appear at all the doors of his room at the same time and hiss to scare off anyone who approached them; but the sister should stay with him not under compulsion, but voluntarily; let her sit next to him on the sofa and bow her ear to him, and then he will tell her that he was determined to enroll her in the conservatory and that, if such a misfortune had not happened, he would have thought about it last Christmas - after all, Christmas is probably already has it passed? - I would tell everyone, without fear of anyone or any objections. After these words, the sister, moved, would have cried, and Gregor would have risen to her shoulder and kissed her neck, which, since she had entered the service, she had not covered with either collars or ribbons.
- Mister Samsa! - the middle tenant shouted to his father and, without wasting any more words, pointed his finger at Gregor, who was slowly moving forward. The violin fell silent, the middle tenant first smiled, making a sign with his head to his friends, and then looked at Gregor again. The father, apparently, considered it more necessary than to drive Gregor away, first to calm the tenants, although they were not at all worried and Gregor seemed to occupy them more than playing the violin. The father hurried towards them, trying with his widely spread arms to push the residents into their room and at the same time shield Gregor from their eyes with his body. Now they're in. In fact, they began to get angry - either because of their father’s behavior, or because they discovered that they lived, without knowing it, with a neighbor like Gregor. They demanded an explanation from their father, raised their hands in turn, pulled their beards and only slowly retreated to their room. Meanwhile, the sister overcame the confusion into which her play was so suddenly interrupted; for several moments she held the bow and the violin in her limply hanging hands and, as if continuing to play, still looked at the notes, and then suddenly perked up and, placing the instrument on her mother’s lap - she was still sitting on her chair, trying to overcome the attack of suffocation with deep sighs , - she ran into the adjacent room, to which, under the pressure of her father, the residents were quickly approaching. You could see how, under the experienced hands of the sister, blankets and down jackets were taken off and placed on the beds. Before the residents reached their room, the sister finished making the beds and slipped out of there. The father, apparently, was again so overcome by his stubbornness that he forgot about all the respect with which he was, after all, obliged to treat his tenants. He kept pushing them back and pushing them back until, already at the door of the room, the middle tenant stamped his foot loudly and stopped his father.
“Let me state,” he said, raising his hand and also looking for his mother and sister, “that in view of the vile rules prevailing in this apartment and in this family,” here he resolutely spat on the floor, “I flatly refuse the room.” Of course, I won’t pay a penny for the days that I lived here; on the contrary, I’ll still think about whether I should make any claims to you, which I dare to assure you are completely justified.
He fell silent and looked forward intently, as if he was waiting for something. And indeed, both of his friends immediately raised their voices:
“We also flatly refuse.”
After that, he grabbed the door handle and slammed the door noisily.
The father groped his way to his chair and collapsed into it; at first glance one might have thought that he was settling down to take a nap, as usual, but from the way his head was shaking so strongly and seemingly uncontrollably, it was clear that he was not sleeping at all. Gregor lay motionless all the time in the place where the residents caught him. Disappointed by the failure of his plan, and perhaps from weakness after a long fast, he completely lost the ability to move. He had no doubt that from minute to minute universal indignation would fall upon him, and he waited. He was not even frightened by the violin, which, slipping from his mother’s trembling fingers, fell from her lap and made a booming sound.
“Dear parents,” said the sister, slapping her hand on the table to call for attention, “you can’t live like this any longer.” If you perhaps don’t understand this, then I understand it. I will not say my brother’s name to this monster and will only say: we must try to get rid of him. We did everything that was humanly possible, we looked after him and tolerated him, in my opinion, we cannot be reproached with anything.
“She’s right a thousand times,” the father said quietly. The mother, who was still choking, began coughing dully into her fist with a crazy look in her eyes.
The sister hurried to her mother and held her head with her palm. The father, whom his sister’s words seemed to suggest some more definite thoughts, straightened up in his chair; he played with his uniform cap, which lay on the table among the plates that were still not cleared away from dinner, and from time to time glanced at the quiet Gregor.
“We must try to get rid of it,” said the sister, addressing only the father, for the mother could not hear anything behind her cough, “it will destroy you both, you’ll see.” If you work as hard as we all do, it’s unbearable to endure this eternal torment at home. I can't do it anymore either.
And she burst into such sobs that her tears rolled down onto her mother’s face, which her sister began to wipe with an automatic movement of her hands.
“My child,” the father said sympathetically and with amazing understanding, “but what should we do?”
The sister only shrugged her shoulders as a sign of the confusion that - in contrast to her previous determination - took possession of her when she cried.
- If only he understood us. . . - the father said half-questioningly.
The sister, continuing to cry, sharply waved her hand as a sign that there was nothing to think about it.
“If he understood us,” the father repeated and closed his eyes, sharing his sister’s conviction in the impossibility of this, “then, perhaps, we would have been able to agree on something with him.” And so. . .
- Let him get out of here! - exclaimed the sister - This is the only way out, father. You just have to get rid of the idea that it's Gregor. Our misfortune lies in the fact that we believed in this for a long time. But what kind of Gregor is he? If it were Gregor, he would have realized long ago that people cannot live with such an animal, and he would have left. Then we wouldn’t have a brother, but we could still live and honor his memory. And so this animal chases us, drives away the residents, clearly wants to take over the entire apartment and throw us out onto the street. Look, father,” she suddenly shouted, “he’s already getting back to his business!”
And in a horror completely incomprehensible to Gregor, the sister even left her mother, literally pushing away from the chair, as if she preferred to sacrifice her mother rather than stay next to Gregor, and hurried to her father, who, alarmed only because of her behavior, also stood up and extended his hands towards her , as if wanting to protect her. .
But Gregor had no intention of scaring anyone, much less his sister. He simply began to turn around to crawl into his room, and this really caught my eye right away, because due to his painful condition, he had to help himself with his head during difficult turns, repeatedly raising it and hitting it on the floor. He stopped and looked around. His good intentions seemed to be recognized, and his fear passed. Now everyone looked at him silently and sadly. The mother was reclining on a chair, her legs stretched out, her eyes were almost closed from fatigue; father and sister were sitting next to each other, the sister hugged her father's neck.
“I guess I can turn around now,” Gregor thought and began his work again. He couldn't help but puff from the exertion and was forced to rest every now and then. However, no one rushed him; he was left to his own devices. Having finished the turn, he immediately crawled straight ahead. He was surprised at the great distance that separated him from the room, and could not understand how, with his weakness, he had recently managed to cover the same path almost unnoticed. Caring only about crawling as quickly as possible, he did not notice that no words, no exclamations of his relatives were bothering him anymore. Only when he was in the doorway did he turn his head, not completely, because he felt his neck stiffen, but enough to see that nothing had changed behind him and only his sister had stood up. His last glance fell on his mother, who was now completely asleep.
As soon as he was in his room, the door was hastily slammed, bolted, and then locked. The sudden noise that came from behind scared Gregor so much that his legs gave way. It was my sister who was in such a hurry. She was already standing ready, then she easily rushed forward - Gregor didn’t even hear her approach - and, shouting to her parents: “Finally! - turned the key in the lock.
“Now what? “- Gregor asked himself, looking around in the darkness. He soon discovered that he could no longer move at all. He was not surprised by this; rather, it seemed unnatural to him that until now he had managed to move on such thin legs. Otherwise he was quite calm. True, he felt pain all over his body, but it seemed to him that it was gradually weakening and finally went away completely. He almost didn’t feel the rotten apple in his back and the inflammation that had formed around it, which had already become covered with dust. He thought about his family with tenderness and love. He also believed that he had to disappear, he believed, perhaps, even more decisively than his sister. He remained in this state of pure and peaceful reflection until the tower clock struck three o'clock in the morning. When everything became brighter outside the window, he was still alive. Then, against his will, his head completely sank, and he sighed weakly for the last time.
When the maid came early in the morning - this burly woman was in a hurry, no matter how much they asked her not to make noise, she slammed the doors so that with her arrival the peaceful sleep in the apartment had already ceased - she, looking in, as always, to Gregor, did not see anything special at first. noticed. She decided that he was deliberately lying so motionless, pretending to be offended: she had no doubt about his intelligence. Since she happened to have a long broom in her hand, she tried to tickle Gregor with it while standing in the doorway. But since this did not have the expected effect, she, angry, lightly pushed Gregor and became alert only when, without meeting any resistance, she moved him from his place. Soon realizing what had happened, she widened her eyes, whistled, but did not hesitate, but pulled open the bedroom door and shouted at the top of her voice into the darkness:
- Look, it’s dead, there it lies, completely, completely dead!
Sitting in their marital bed, the Samsa couple first had difficulty overcoming the fear caused by the appearance of the maid, and then they perceived the meaning of her words. Having received it, Mr. and Mrs. Samsa, each from their own corner, hastily got out of bed, Mr. Samsa threw a blanket over his shoulders, Mrs. Samsa stood up in only her nightgown; So they entered Gregor's room. Meanwhile, the door of the living room, where Greta had been sleeping since the arrival of tenants, opened; she was completely dressed, as if she had not slept, and the pallor of her face spoke of the same thing.
- Died? - said Mrs. Samsa, looking questioningly at the maid, although she could check it herself and understand it even without checking.
“That’s what I’m saying,” said the maid and, as proof, pushed Gregor’s corpse even further to the side with a broom. Mrs. Samsa made a movement as if she wanted to hold the broom, but she did not hold it.
“Well,” said Mr. Samsa, “now we can thank God.”
He crossed himself, and the three women followed his example. Greta, who had not taken her eyes off the corpse, said:
- Just look how thin he has become. After all, he hasn't eaten anything for so long. Whatever food was brought to him, he did not touch anything.
Gregor's body was indeed completely dry and flat; this became truly visible only now, when his legs were no longer lifting him up, and indeed there was nothing else to distract his gaze.
“Come in for a minute, Greta,” Mrs. Samsa said with a sad smile, and Greta, without ceasing to look back at the corpse, followed her parents into the bedroom. The maid closed the door and opened the window wide. Despite the early hour, the fresh air was already a little warm. It was the end of March.
Three residents left their room and were surprised to see no breakfast: they had been forgotten.
-Where is breakfast? — the middle one asked the maid gloomily. But the maid, putting her finger to her lips, quickly and silently nodded to the residents to enter Gregor’s room. They entered there and, in the now completely bright room, surrounded Gregor's corpse, hiding their hands in the pockets of their threadbare jackets.
Then the bedroom door opened and Mr. Samsa appeared in livery, with his wife on one side and his daughter on the other. Everyone had a little teary eyes; Greta, no, no, pressed her face to her father’s shoulder.
- Leave my apartment now! - said Mr. Samsa and pointed to the door, not letting go of both women.
- What do you have in mind? — the middle tenant said somewhat embarrassedly and smiled flatteringly. The other two, with their hands behind their backs, rubbed them continuously, as if in joyful anticipation of a big argument, which, however, promised a favorable outcome.
“I mean exactly what I said,” answered Mr. Samsa and, side by side with his companions, approached the tenant. He stood silently for several moments, looking at the floor, as if everything was rearranging himself in his head.
“Well, then we’ll leave,” he then said and looked at Mr. Samsa as if, suddenly resigned, he was waiting for his consent even in this case.
Mr. Samsa only nodded briefly at him several times, his eyes wide. After this, the tenant actually immediately walked with long strides into the hallway; both of his friends, who, listening, had already stopped rubbing their hands, began to jump after him, as if they were afraid that Mr. Samsa would pass into the hall before them and cut them off from their leader. In the hall, all three residents took their hats from the rack, took their canes from the cane rack, bowed silently and left the apartment. With some, as it turned out, completely unfounded distrust, Mr. Samsa went out with both women onto the landing; leaning their elbows on the railing, they watched as the residents slowly, it is true, but steadily descended the long staircase, disappearing on each floor at a certain turn and appearing again a few moments later; the further down they went, the less they occupied Samsa's family, and when, first towards them, and then high above them, a butcher's helper began to rise, flaunting his posture, with a basket on his head, Mr. Samsa and the women left the platform and all with what We were relieved to return to the apartment.
They decided to devote today to rest and a walk; They not only deserved this break from work, they absolutely needed it. And so they sat down at the table and wrote three explanatory letters: Mr. Samsa to his management, Mrs. Samsa to her employer, and Greta to her boss. While they were writing, the maid came in to say that she was leaving because her morning work was done. At first the writers only nodded, without raising their eyes, but when the maid, instead of leaving, remained in place, they looked at her displeasedly.
- Well? - asked Mr. Samsa.
The maid, smiling, stood in the doorway with an air as if she had some happy news for the family, which she was going to tell only after persistent questioning. The almost vertical ostrich feather on her hat, which always irritated Mr. Samsa, swayed in all directions.
- So what do you need? - asked Mrs. Samsa, to whom the maid was still most respectful.
“Yes,” answered the maid, choking with good-natured laughter, “you don’t have to worry about how to remove it.” Everything is fine now.
Mrs. Samsa and Greta bent over their letters, as if intending to write further; Mr. Samsa, who noticed that the maid was about to tell everything in detail, decisively rejected it with a wave of his hand. And since she was not allowed to speak, the maid remembered that she was in a hurry, and shouted with obvious resentment: “Happy stay!” “- she turned sharply and left the apartment, frantically slamming the doors.
“She will be dismissed in the evening,” said Mr. Samsa, but received no answer from either his wife or daughter, for the maid had disturbed their barely acquired peace. They got up, went to the window and, hugging each other, stopped there. Mr. Samsa turned in his chair in their direction and looked at them silently for several moments. Then he exclaimed:
- Come here! Finally forget the old. And think about me at least a little.
The women immediately obeyed, hurried to him, caressed him and quickly finished their letters.
Then they all left the apartment together, which they had not done for many months, and rode the tram out of town. The carriage in which they sat alone was full of warm sun. Comfortably reclining in their seats, they discussed their plans for the future, which, upon closer examination, turned out to be not bad at all, for the service, which they had not yet asked each other about, was extremely convenient for all of them, and most importantly - She promised a lot in the future. Now, of course, a change of apartment could easily improve their situation in the most significant way; they decided to rent a smaller and cheaper, but more comfortable and generally more suitable apartment than the current one, which Gregor had chosen. As they talked like this, Mr. and Mrs. Samsa, seeing their increasingly animated daughter, almost simultaneously thought that, despite all the sorrows that had covered her cheeks with pallor, she had recently blossomed and become a magnificent beauty. Having fallen silent and almost unconsciously switching to the language of glances, they thought that the time had come to find her a good husband. And as if to confirm their new dreams and wonderful intentions, the daughter was the first to stand up at the end of their trip and straighten her young body.
Franz Kafka. Transformation
The extraordinary diary that Franz Kafka kept throughout his life has come to us thanks, oddly enough, to the betrayal of Max Brod, his friend, who vowed to burn all the writer’s works. He read and...could not fulfill his promise. He was so shocked by the greatness of his nearly destroyed creative heritage.
Since then, Kafka has become a brand. Not only is it taught in all humanitarian universities, it has become a popular attribute of our time. It entered not only the cultural context, but also became fashionable among thoughtful (and not so thoughtful) young people. Black melancholy (which many use as a kitschy T-shirt with a show-off image of Tolstoy), non-conveyor live fantasy and convincing artistic images attract even an inexperienced reader. Yes, he hangs out at the reception of the first floor of a skyscraper and tries in vain to find out where the elevator is. However, few rise to the penthouse and experience the full pleasure of a book. Luckily, there are always girls behind the counter who will explain everything.
A lot has been written about this, but it is often florid and scattered; even a search in the text does not help. We have sorted all the information found into points:
Symbolism of the number "3"
“As for the symbolism of “three”, which Nabokov is so passionate about, perhaps we should also add something completely simple to his explanations: trellis. Let it be just three mirrors turned at an angle to each other. Perhaps one of them shows the event from Gregor’s point of view, another from the point of view of his family, the third from the reader’s point of view.”
The phenomenon is that the author dispassionately, methodically describes a fantastic story and gives the reader a choice between reflections of his plot and opinions about him. People imagine themselves as frightened philistines, helpless insects and invisible observers of this picture who make their judgment. The author reproduces three-dimensional space with the help of unique mirrors. They are not mentioned in the text; the reader himself imagines them when he tries to give a balanced moral assessment of what is happening. There are only three aspects of a linear path: beginning, middle, end:
“Connecting the novella with the microcosm, Gregor is presented as a trinity of body, soul and mind (or spirit), as well as magical - transformation into an insect, human - feelings, thoughts, and natural - appearance (the body of a beetle)"
Gregor Samsa's muteness
Vladimir Nabokov, for example, believes that the dumbness of an insect is an image of the dumbness that accompanies our life: petty, fussy, secondary things are discussed and grinded for hours, but innermost thoughts and feelings, the basis of human nature, remain in the depths of the soul and die in obscurity.
Why insect?
Under no circumstances is it a cockroach or a beetle! Kafka deliberately confuses lovers of natural history by mixing up all the signs of arthropod creatures known to him. Whether it is a cockroach or a beetle does not matter. The main thing is the image of an unnecessary, useless, nasty insect, which only bothers people and is disgusting, alien to them.
“Of all humanity, Kafka meant only himself here - no one else! He has grown these family ties into the chitinous shell of an insect. And - see! - they turned out to be so weak and thin that an ordinary apple thrown at it breaks this shameful shell and serves as a reason (but not the reason!) for the death of the former favorite and the pride of the family. Of course, meaning himself, he painted only the hopes and aspirations of his family, which with all the strength of his literary nature he was forced to discredit - such was his calling and fatal fate.”
The number three plays a significant role in the story. The story is divided into three parts. Gregor's room has three doors. His family consists of three people. As the story progresses, three maids appear. Three residents have three beards. Three Samsas write three letters. I am wary of overemphasizing the meaning of symbols, because as soon as you remove the symbol from the artistic core of the book, it ceases to please you. The reason is that there are artistic symbols and there are banal, fictitious and even stupid symbols. You will find many such silly symbols in psychoanalytic and mythological interpretations of Kafka's works. Another thematic line is that of doors opening and closing; it permeates the entire story. The third thematic line is the ups and downs in the well-being of the Samsa family; a delicate balance between their prosperity and Gregor's desperately pathetic state. Expressionism. Signs of style, representatives
It's no secret that many researchers attribute Kafka's work to expressionism. Without an understanding of this modernist phenomenon, it is impossible to fully appreciate The Metamorphosis.
Expressionism (from Latin expressio, “expression”) is a movement in European art of the modernist era, which received its greatest development in the first decades of the 20th century, mainly in Germany and Austria. Expressionism strives not so much to reproduce reality as to express the emotional state of the author. It is represented in a variety of artistic forms, including painting, literature, theater, architecture, music and dance. This is the first artistic movement to fully manifest itself in cinema.
Expressionism arose as an acute reaction to the events of that time (the First World War, Revolutions). The generation of this period perceived reality extremely subjectively, through the prism of such emotions as disappointment, fear, despair. Motifs of pain and screaming are common.
In painting
In 1905, German expressionism took shape in the “Bridge” group, which rebelled against the superficial verisimilitude of the impressionists, seeking to return to German art the lost spiritual dimension and diversity of meanings. (This is, for example, Max Pechstein, Otto Müller.)
The banality, ugliness and contradictions of modern life gave rise to feelings of irritation, disgust, anxiety and frustration among the Expressionists, which they conveyed with the help of angular, distorted lines, quick and rough strokes, and flashy color.
In 1910, a group of expressionist artists led by Pechstein broke away to form the New Secession. In 1912, the Blue Rider group was formed in Munich, whose ideologist was Wassily Kandinsky. There is no consensus among experts regarding the attribution of “The Blue Rider” to expressionism.
With Hitler's rise to power in 1933, expressionism was declared "degenerate art"
Expressionism includes artists such as Edmond Munch and Marc Chagall. And Kandinsky.
Literature
Poland (T. Michinsky), Czechoslovakia (K. Chapek), Russia (L. Andreev), Ukraine (V. Stefanik), etc.
The authors of the “Prague School” also wrote in German, who, despite all their individuality, are united by an interest in situations of absurd claustrophobia, fantastic dreams, and hallucinations. Among the Prague writers of this group are Franz Kafka, Gustav Meyrink, Leo Perutz, Alfred Kubin, Paul Adler.
Expressionist poets – Georg Traklä, Franz Werfel and Ernst Stadler
In theater and dance
A. Strindberg and F. Wedekind. The psychologism of playwrights of the previous generation is, as a rule, denied. Instead of individuals, in the plays of the Expressionists there are generalized figures-symbols (for example, Man and Woman). The main character often experiences a spiritual epiphany and rebels against his father figure.
In addition to German-speaking countries, expressionist dramas were also popular in the USA (Eugene O'Neill) and Russia (plays by L. Andreev), where Meyerhold taught actors to convey emotional states using their bodies - sudden movements and characteristic gestures (biomechanics).
The expressionist modern dance of Mary Wigman (1886-1973) and Pina Bausch (1940-2009) serves the same purpose of conveying the acute emotional states of the dancer through his movements. The world of ballet was first introduced to the aesthetics of expressionism by Vaslav Nijinsky; his production of the ballet “The Rite of Spring” (1913) turned into one of the biggest scandals in the history of performing arts.
Cinema
Grotesque distortions of space, stylized scenery, psychologization of events, and an emphasis on gestures and facial expressions are the hallmarks of expressionist cinema, which flourished in Berlin studios from 1920 to 1925. Among the largest representatives of this movement are F. W. Murnau, F. Lang, P. Wegener, P. Leni.
Architecture
In the late 1910s and early 1920s. The architects of the North German brick and Amsterdam groups used the new technical possibilities offered by materials such as improved brick, steel and glass to express themselves. Architectural forms were likened to objects of inanimate nature; in individual biomorphic structures of that era they see the embryo of architectural bionics.
Due to the difficult financial state of post-war Germany, the most daring projects of expressionist buildings, however, remained unfulfilled. Instead of constructing actual buildings, architects had to be content with designing temporary pavilions for exhibitions, as well as sets for theater and film productions.
The age of expressionism in Germany and neighboring countries was short. After 1925, leading architects, including V. Gropius and E. Mendelssohn, began to abandon all decorative elements and rationalize architectural space in line with the “new materiality”.
Music
Some musicologists describe the late symphonies of Gustav Mahler, the early works of Bartok and some of the works of Richard Strauss as expressionism. However, most often this term is applied to the composers of the new Viennese school, led by Arnold Schoenberg. It is curious that since 1911, Schoenberg corresponded with V. Kandinsky, the ideologist of the expressionist group “Blue Rider”. They exchanged not only letters, but also articles and paintings.
Kafka's stylistics: the language of the short story “Metamorphosis”, examples of tropes
The epithets are bright, but not numerous: “shell-hard back”, “convex belly crushed by arched scales”, “numerous, pathetically thin legs”, “tall empty room of the scarecrow”.
Other critics argue that his work cannot be attributed to any of the “isms” (surrealism, expressionism, existentialism); rather, it comes into contact with the literature of the absurd, but also purely externally. Kafka's style (as opposed to content) does not at all coincide with expressionist, since the presentation in his works is emphatically dry, ascetic, and lacks any metaphors or tropes.
In each work, the reader sees a balancing act between the natural and the extraordinary, the individual and the universe, the tragic and the everyday, the absurd and logic. This is the so-called absurdity.
Kafka liked to borrow terms from the language of law and science, using them with ironic precision, guaranteeing against the intrusion of the author's feelings; This was precisely Flaubert’s method, which allowed him to achieve exceptional poetic effect.
Vladimir Nabokov wrote: “The clarity of speech, the precise and strict intonation contrasts strikingly with the nightmarish content of the story. His sharp, black-and-white writing is unadorned by any poetic metaphors. The transparency of his language emphasizes the dark richness of his imagination."
The short story is a realistic narrative in form, but in content it is organized and presented like a dream. The result is an individual myth. As in a real myth, in “The Metamorphosis” there is a concrete sensory personification of a person’s mental characteristics.
The Story of Gregor Samsa. Various interpretations of the motive of transformation in the story
Vladimir Nabokov states: “In Gogol and Kafka, an absurd hero lives in an absurd world.” However, why do we need to juggle the term “absurd”? Terms - like butterflies or beetles pinned to a stand - with the help of a pin from an inquisitive entomologist. After all, “Metamorphosis” is the same as “The Scarlet Flower,” only exactly the opposite.
It is worth noting that the very transformation of the hero into an insect brings the reader to the fabulous. Having turned, he can only be saved by a miracle, some event or action that will help break the spell and win. But nothing like that happens. Contrary to the laws of fairy tales, there is no happy ending. Gregor Samsa remains a beetle, no one lends him a helping hand, no one saves him. By projecting the plot of the work onto the plot of a classical fairy tale, Kafka, albeit involuntarily, makes it clear to the reader that if in a traditional fairy tale the victory of good always occurs, then here evil, which is identified by the outside world, wins and even “finishes off” the main character. Vladimir Nabokov writes: “The only salvation, perhaps, seems to be Gregor’s sister, who, at first, acts as a kind of symbol of the hero’s hope. However, the final betrayal is fatal for Gregor." Kafka shows the reader how Gregor the son disappeared, Gregor the brother, and now Gregor the beetle must disappear. A rotten apple in the back is not the cause of death, the cause of death is the betrayal of loved ones, the sister, who was a kind of stronghold of salvation for the hero.
One day, in one of his letters, Kafka reports a strange incident that happened to him. He discovers a bedbug in his hotel room. The hostess who came to his call was very surprised and reported that not a single bug was visible in the entire hotel. Why would he appear in this particular room? Perhaps Franz Kafka asked himself this question. The bug in his room is his bug, his own insect, like his alter ego. Was it not as a result of such an incident that the writer’s idea arose, giving us such a wonderful short story?
After family scenes, Franz Kafka hid in his room for months, not participating in family meals or other family interactions. This is how he “punished” himself in life, this is how he punishes Gregor Samsa in the novel. The transformation of the son is perceived by the family as a kind of disgusting illness, and Franz Kafka’s ailments are constantly mentioned not only in diaries or letters, they are almost a familiar theme throughout many years of his life, as if inviting a fatal illness.
The thought of suicide, which haunted Kafka at the age of thirty, of course, contributed to this story. It is common for children - at a certain age - to lull themselves to sleep after a fictitious or real insult by adults with the thought: “I’m going to die - and then they will know.”
Kafka was categorically against illustrating the novella and depicting any insect - categorically against it! The writer understood that uncertain fear is many times greater than fear at the sight of a known phenomenon.
The Absurd Reality of Franz Kafka
The attractive feature of the short story “Metamorphosis,” like many other works of Franz Kafka, is that fantastic, absurd events are described by the author as a given. He does not explain why the traveling salesman Gregor Samsa one day woke up in his bed with insects, and does not evaluate the events and characters. Kafka, as an outside observer, describes the story that happened to the Samsa family.
Gregor's transformation into an insect is dictated by the absurdity of the world around him. Being in conflict with reality, the hero comes into conflict with it and, not finding a way out, tragically dies
Why is Gregor Samsa not indignant, not horrified? Because he, like all of Kafka’s main characters, does not expect anything good from the world from the very beginning. Becoming an insect is just a hyperbole of the ordinary human condition. Kafka seems to be asking the same question as the hero of Crime and Punishment F.M. Dostoevsky: is a person “a louse” or “has the right.” And he answers: “louse.” Moreover: he implements the metaphor by turning his character into an insect.
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It starts right away with the beginning. The traveling salesman turned into an insect. Either a beetle or a cockroach. The size of a person. What nonsense? Is this really Kafka? 🙂 Next, the author talks about the misadventures of Gregor, who is trying to figure out how to live. From the start, you don’t even understand how deep and symbolic everything is.
The author does not express his attitude to what is happening, but only describes the events. This is a kind of “empty sign” that has no signifier, but it can be said that, like most of Kafka’s works, the story reveals the tragedy of a lonely, abandoned and guilty person in the face of an absurd and meaningless fate. The drama of a man faced with an irreconcilable, incomprehensible and grandiose fate, which appears in various manifestations, is just as colorfully described in “The Castle” and “The Trial.” With many small realistic details, Kafka complements the fantastic picture, turning it into a grotesque.
Essentially, Kafka gives a hint through images of what can happen to each of us. About what is happening, for example, with my grandmother, who fell ill and needs care.
The main character of the story, Gregor Samsa, a simple traveling salesman, wakes up in the morning and discovers that he has turned into a huge, disgusting insect. In Kafka's typical manner, the cause of the metamorphosis and the events preceding it are not revealed. The reader, like the heroes of the story, are simply presented with a fact - the transformation has taken place. The hero remains sane and aware of what is happening. In an unusual position, he cannot get out of bed, does not open the door, although his family members - his mother, father and sister - persistently ask him to do so. Having learned about his transformation, the family is horrified: his father drives him into a room, where he is left for the entire time, only his sister comes to feed him. In severe mental and physical pain (his father threw an apple at him, Gregor injured himself on the door) torment, Gregor spends time in the room. He was the only serious source of income in the family, now his relatives are forced to tighten their belts, and the main character feels guilty. At first, the sister shows pity and understanding for him, but later, when the family is already living from hand to mouth and is forced to let in tenants who behave brazenly and shamelessly in their house, she loses any remaining feelings for the insect. Gregor soon dies, contracting an infection from a rotten apple stuck in one of his joints. The story ends with a scene of a cheerful walk of the family, consigning Gregor to oblivion.
The history of writing the short story “Metamorphosis”
Two months after “The Verdict,” Kafka writes “The Metamorphosis.” No other story by Kafka is so powerful and cruel, no other story yields so much to the temptation of sadism. There is a certain self-destructiveness in this text, an attraction to the vile, which may turn some of his readers away from Kafka. Gregor Samsa is clearly Franz Kafka, transformed by his unsociable character, his penchant for loneliness, his obsessive thought about writing into some kind of monster; he is consistently cut off from work, family, meetings with other people, locked in a room where no one dares to set foot and which is gradually emptied of furniture, a misunderstood, despised, disgusting object in the eyes of everyone. To a lesser extent, it was clear that “The Metamorphosis” was to some extent a complement to “The Verdict” and its counterweight: Gregor Samsa has more in common with the “friend from Russia” than with Georg Bendemann, whose name is an almost perfect anagram: he is a loner, refusing to make concessions demanded by society. If “The Verdict” slightly opens the doors of an ambiguous paradise, then “Metamorphosis” resurrects the hell in which Kafka was before meeting Felitsa. During the period when Franz is composing his “disgusting story,” he writes to Felitza: “... and, you see, all these disgusting things are generated by the same soul in which you dwell and which you tolerate as your abode. Don’t be upset, for who knows, perhaps the more I write and the more I free myself from it, the purer and more worthy I become for you, but, of course, I still have a lot to free myself from, and no nights can be long enough for this in generally a sweet activity.” At the same time, “Metamorphosis,” where the father plays one of the most disgusting roles, is intended to help Kafka, if not free himself from the hatred that he feels for his own father, then at least free his stories from this boring theme: after this date, the figure father will appear in his work only in 1921 in a short text, which the publishers called “The Married Couple.”
