The Arts in New York City

To me, Metamorphosis was just one big allegory. When most people hear the name of this story, they say “Oh yea, the one where the guy turns into a cockroach.” But that’s not what it’s all about! Though many seem to be horrified and confused by the downplay of Gregor Samsa’s reaction to turning into a monstrous vermin, I believe that this was done to contribute to the story – I don’t think it was so much about Gregor’s physical transformation rather than the deeper meanings and messages behind it. This setup reminded me of George Orwell’s Animal Farm, in which a physical story is told to represent (and possibly take a stab at) the idea of communism. So Gregor’s matter-of-fact realization of what he was did not surprise me, but rather established the genre of the story.

For example, did anyone in Gregor’s family ever view him as a human being to begin with? He seemed to be nothing more to them than a source of income. On the morning of Gregor’s transformation, his family is knocking on the bedroom door incessantly because he never went to work. When the chief clerk arrives and Gregor refuses to let him in, his sister Grete begins to weep on the other side of the door. It may seem at first as if this is all because they care about Gregor, but once they find out he is now a cockroach (and therefore useless to them) they don’t do a thing to help, or even bother with, him. The doctor they frantically called for is sent away, though one would think that someone turning into a cockroach would be all the more reason for medical help. Their whole reaction to his condition is thrown out the window as it becomes apparent that he will never go to work again. Which isn’t surprising, because the job is all about paying off a debt that they created. Gregor’s initial transformation is therefore a physical representation of his role in the family, and it is only one of such connections made throughout the book.

Gregor’s death and its effects really sent my head spinning. It seemed so ironic that his death was what set his family free, even though he had been the only thing supporting them for years. It turns out that what he (and I) thought was “supporting” was actually only “enabling”, and without him the Samsa’s finally become a well-functioning family with their own jobs and interests. This reminds me of a scene from one of my favorite shows, Lost. There’s an episode in Season 1 called The Moth, where a character named Charlie is fighting drug withdrawals (deserted island = you can’t buy drugs anymore = withdrawal). Charlie agrees to give his remaining drugs over to another character named Locke, so that it can at least be his decision to quit. Locke helps him through the withdrawal period, and during one scene he explains to Charlie why he cannot give him his drugs back through an analogy to a moth. Inside of a moth cocoon, the pupa is undergoing a struggle to emerge from its hard encasing. Somebody who cut the cocoon open to free the moth wouldn’t be helping it, but rather hurting it, because the struggle is what makes it strong enough to survive once it emerges. Similarly, Gregor enabled his family in its dysfunction as he carried on his menial job to support them. His short-term contribution added to their long-term dysfunction. What makes this apparent is the lightening of the sky through the window as Gregor takes his last breath (pg 141), and the family’s subsequent vacation day out together (again, a physical representation of an underlying idea, aka their freedom without Gregor). I felt a lightness and an easiness after Gregor died, as the family’s life  began to take a turn for the better.

^Here’s the whole scene!

A scene that really struck me emotionally was when Grete plays the violin outside of Gregor’s room. I found this part of the story to be, for lack of a better word, sad. All Gregor wants to do is be a part of his family, be treated as a human being. He thinks back on his plans to send Grete to a conservatory, and imagines a time where they could talk and understand each other again. What I imagine to be a warbling, melancholy violin is the backdrop for this wistful moment. Grete continues to play despite the chaos going on around her: Gregor creeping from his room in the presence of the three gentlemen, the desperate plot forming in his mind to keep her captive, the men turning their noses down on her playing. Everything in the house is about to fall apart, as the men renting in the flat will see Gregor and leave without paying a cent, the family will subsequently undergo financial suffering, and Gregor will be punished. It reminded me of a scene from the movie Titanic (I know, girl moment) where a single violinist plays a slow hymn as the boat sinks. People are running and screaming around him throughout the night, shooting each other, jumping into lifeboats, drowning, and preparing for death… yet he plays through it all. Grete’s song was also the background music for a sad, chaotic, and jumbled scene.

Finally, I have to add that I’m not a fan of bugs, so reading this book made me really jumpy every time after I put it down. I don’t know if anyone remembers the ride in Disney World based off of the movie A Bug’s Life, where you get the sensation of bugs crawling all over you, but that was what reading this book was like for me. I saw a cockroach on the subway platform on Tuesday and felt no sympathy.

Reading Metamorphosis, I was captivated by Gregor’s situation with his family and his job. It was beautifully depressing, and while I was reading, I felt a weight on my chest because I sympathized with Gregor so much that I felt what he should have been feeling, what he would not allow himself to feel. “Clockwork Grey” was on my mind, because it’s such a somber, beautiful instrumental piece:

“Well, I haven’t quite given up hope; once I’ve got the money together to pay back what my parents owe him—it may take me another five or six years—then I’ll do it, no question.” (page 89 of Metamorphosis)

When Gregor thought of the debt his parents owed (see above quote), I felt heavy sadness and an immense gravity; Gregor is an indentured servant, stuck with the burden of paying back a debt he did not incur in the first place. This was the mental image I had of how he felt:

Look at all that debt; that’s so much pressure!

I found it equally, if not more, sad that Gregor doesn’t give much thought to his metamorphosis beyond “What’s the matter with me?” The debt is what is on his mind all the time—he loves his family so much (and knows he is their only source of revenue) that he does not pause to consider his own fate. He is a selfless man who has been taken advantage of using familial ties, and it made me furious to think that his parents took him for granted like that.

A representation of my growing fury in shades of red.

At one point, we actually see that, as his parents are unable to rely on Gregor, they actually have the capability to get up and work, to do all the things he was doing for them. That made me even angrier, knowing that they had the ability to be independent all along, and yet put so much pressure on Gregor. Then I was absolutely saddened, because I realized that that meant Gregor’s only worth to his parents was as a provider. He could be nothing else.

Something I couldn’t quite get out of my head throughout the duration of the novel was that despite everything, Gregor had been born and raised human—he was not naturally an insect. He thinks human thoughts, he feels just as a human does, and I found myself thinking of the song “Human” by Daughter.

One of Gregor’s last thoughts is “What now?” He thinks back on his family with devotion and love, and that was all he ever thought of them, no matter how badly he was treated. That part made me cry, because what others would consider an unhappy life, Gregor perceived as being necessary—he never truly considered his own feelings. I thought of the song “After Thought” by Company of Thieves. It expresses the feelings that Gregor should logically express, but because he is such a selfless character, it never occurs: