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    The Metamorphosis
    The Metamorphosis
    The Metamorphosis
    Ebook75 pages1 hour

    The Metamorphosis

    By Franz Kafka

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    About this ebook

    Gregor Samsa, an unhappy travelling salesman, awakens one morning to discover he has transformed into a hideous beetle-like insect. Once his family and employer discover his regrettable condition, he’s left alone, confined to his room, unable to communicate with anyone and left to contemplate his life as the lives of his family go on without him.

    One of Franz Kafka’s most enduring and most studied works, The Metamorphosis remains a quintessential tale about a man alienated and outcast, and it is through his strange and unexplained transformation, that Gregor contrasts the absurdity of his situation with philosophical contemplation of isolation and impotency.

    HarperPerennial Classics brings great works of literature to life in digital format, upholding the highest standards in ebook production and celebrating reading in all its forms. Look for more titles in the HarperPerennial Classics collection to build your digital library.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateOct 1, 2013
    ISBN9781443429320
    Author

    Franz Kafka

    Born in Prague in 1883, the son of a self-made Jewish merchant, Franz Kafka trained as a lawyer and worked in insurance. He published little during his lifetime and lived his life in relative obscurity. He was forced to retire from work in 1917 after being diagnosed with tuberculosis, a debilitating illness which dogged his final years. When he died in 1924 he bequeathed the – mainly unfinished – manuscripts of his novels, stories, letters and diaries to his friend the writer Max Brod with the strict instruction that they should be destroyed. Brod ignored Kafka’s wishes and organised the publication of his work, including The Trial, which appeared in 1925. It is through Brod’s efforts that Kafka is now regarded as one of the greatest novelists of the twentieth century.

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    Reviews for The Metamorphosis

    4/5

    1,797 ratings21 reviews

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    • 4/5
      Long short story, read countless times. I have analyzed it in class, online, in my Mother-in-laws kitchen, until I am dulled by the whole thing. Did he become a butterfly or a moth? I forget.
    • 5/5
      I was disgusted and riveted.
    • 2/5
      A classic and short must-read, Kafka's work addresses how a family adjusts to an absurd event, and ultimately comes to despise a once-beloved family member
    • 3/5
      I read this in highschool and enjoyed it very much. A man turns into a giant bug :) What's not to like?
    • 3/5
      This a well-written but bizarre story. I'm sure there's a moral or lesson in there somewhere but it has eluded me.
    • 5/5
      great novella. Amazing how you can develop such empathy for an insect!
    • 3/5
      The title was truly apt. When Gregor metamorphosed, so did everyone around him. People are expendable, that is what I took from this story.
    • 5/5
      OKKKKK so I've re-read this book because I've been thinking about it lately and I just seem to grow more fond of it...It is simply art in a novel and I don't really know why I didn't re-read it sooner. LOVE 9/10
    • 4/5
      Strange, but he is such a good writer.
    • 5/5
      A story that is short enough to read in a couple of hours, yet interesting and bizarre enough to stay with you for a lifetime. Amount gained from reading is incredible when compared to the short amount of time it takes to read.
    • 3/5
      I read this in high school and saw it as a story about a guy turning into a bug. Rereading it as an adult I see it as a story of family obligations, dreams deferred, codependency, and losing yourself in service to others. I definitely got so much more out of it this time. It's a good reminder for me to give books a second look at different stages of life.
    • 5/5
      Loved it. I can't really put it any better than that. I grabbed it as a public domain ebook and read the thing on my lunch break. Darkly humorous, absurd yet relatable, and almost painfully mundane.
    • 4/5
      I loved this! It was heart-breaking, but still good, nonetheless. I love how it starts out with Gregor waking up as a "bug" and then just mildly taking notice, more concerned about how he needs to get up because he is late for work. I also love how Kafka doesn't try to explain how Gregor woke up this way; he just takes the idea and runs with it. Absolutely wonderful.
    • 4/5
      What a strange and fascinating story! Wow.
    • 4/5
      So, is it like if he died but had to watch his family cope afterward? Or is it just cause I was thinking about The Sixth Sense before I started?
    • 5/5
      What a great story! Kafka's symbolism is absolutely fantastic. A master. I hope to read more of his work soon.
    • 3/5
      Depressing, Freudian symbology, not too enjoyable and wholly tear-inducing. A very bitter take on the world and humanity. Cynical and not too much of a story as a philosophical study of the doomed future of mankind. Don't read unless you feel you should...

      It is profound, and terribly worth delving into for the fact of how bizarrely interesting it is. But don't anticipate reading it more than once.
    • 3/5
      This was interesting and weird. I hadn't known what to expect when I started it, so I was astounded by what was there. Obviously, the writing was amazing. It kept me wondering what was going on and how things were going to end until the last word. Heart-wrenching, but enjoyably so.
    • 5/5
      This is an abstract piece about a man who wakes up andrealizes he is a bug, however, this does not concern him. He is more worried about being late for work. This is a sad tale of a man, who, after an unfortunate event, loses the love of his family, as they think he is an awful disgusting creature. He has to learn to live with the things he cannot change and accept himself for who he is.
    • 5/5
      Although Kafka isn't considered an existentialist author to the extent that Camus is, this novella is about a million times more compelling than 'The Stranger' could ever hope to be, and does what the 'The Stranger' was supposed to do: portray how terrifying the world is if there is no rhyme, reason, or fairness.
    • 5/5
      I was dark and sullen experience to this masterpiece. Kafka

    Book preview

    The Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka

    Chapter I

    One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked.

    What’s happened to me? he thought. It wasn’t a dream. His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table—Samsa was a travelling salesman—and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer.

    Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. Drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad. How about if I sleep a little bit longer and forget all this nonsense, he thought, but that was something he was unable to do because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state couldn’t get into that position. However hard he threw himself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was. He must have tried it a hundred times, shut his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to look at the floundering legs, and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull pain there that he had never felt before.

    Oh, God, he thought, what a strenuous career it is that I’ve chosen! Travelling day in and day out. Doing business like this takes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and on top of that there’s the curse of travelling, worries about making train connections, bad and irregular food, contact with different people all the time so that you can never get to know anyone or become friendly with them. It can all go to hell! He felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his head better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with lots of little white spots which he didn’t know what to make of; and when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly back because as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold shudder.

    He slid back into his former position. Getting up early all the time, he thought, it makes you stupid. You’ve got to get enough sleep. Other travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. For instance, whenever I go back to the guest house during the morning to copy out the contract, these gentlemen are always still sitting there eating their breakfasts. I ought to just try that with my boss; I’d get kicked out on the spot. But who knows, maybe that would be the best thing for me. If I didn’t have my parents to think about I’d have given in my notice a long time ago, I’d have gone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell him everything I would, let him know just what I feel. He’d fall right off his desk! And it’s a funny sort of business to be sitting up there at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there, especially when you have to go right up close because the boss is hard of hearing. Well, there’s still some hope; once I’ve got the money together to pay off my parents’ debt to him—another five or six years I suppose—that’s definitely what I’ll do. That’s when I’ll make the big change. First of all though, I’ve got to get up, my train leaves at five.

    And he looked over at the alarm clock, ticking on the chest of drawers. God in Heaven! he thought. It was half past six and the hands were quietly moving forwards, it was even later than half past, more like quarter to seven. Had the alarm clock not rung? He could see from the bed that it had been set for four o’clock as it should have been; it certainly must have rung. Yes, but was it possible to quietly sleep through that furniture-rattling noise? True, he had not slept peacefully, but probably all the more deeply because of that. What should he do now? The next train went at seven; if he were to catch that he would have to rush like mad and the collection of samples was still not packed, and he did not at all feel particularly fresh and lively. And even if he did catch the train he would not avoid his boss’s anger as the office assistant would have been there to see the five o’clock train go, he would have put in his report about Gregor’s not being there a long time ago. The office assistant was the boss’s man, spineless, and with no understanding. What about if he reported sick? But that would be extremely strained and suspicious as in fifteen years of service Gregor had never once yet been ill. His boss would certainly come round with the doctor from the medical insurance company, accuse his parents of having a lazy son, and accept the doctor’s recommendation not to make any claim as the doctor believed that no one was ever ill but that many were work-shy. And what’s more, would he have been entirely wrong in this case? Gregor did in fact, apart from excessive sleepiness after sleeping for so long, feel completely well and even felt much hungrier than usual.

    He was still hurriedly thinking all this through, unable to decide to get out of the bed, when the clock struck quarter to seven. There was a cautious knock at the door near his head. Gregor, somebody called—it was his mother—it’s quarter to seven. Didn’t you want to go somewhere? That gentle voice! Gregor was shocked when he heard his own voice answering, it could hardly be recognised as the voice he had had before. As if from deep inside him, there was a painful and uncontrollable squeaking mixed in with it, the words could be made out at first but then

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