The Metamorphosis

Oh, Gregor. The extra four legs suit you so very well.

I have now read Franz Kafka's novella The Metamorphosis twice. The first was shortly after I received it for my sixteenth birthday, way back in the eighteenth century (really. I'm old). It was sitting on a pile of books next to my nightstand table and I decided to read it. It was only 39 pages long, and I thought that I would feel rather clever afterward.




Things went quite according to plan. An hour and 39 pages later, I went downstairs for a snack, feeling rather clever. The book migrated its way down to the basement, with all the other books that have been read and no longer merit coveted bookshelf space.

Then, about a week ago, The Metamorphosis popped into my head again. "Good grief," I said to myself. "Kafka was really on to something there." I then embarked on a frantic, full-scale, adjective-ridden search through my house, eventually finding the book hiding like a gremlin in a pile of Junie B. Jones books.

I scuttled upstairs quicker than a hippo. I spent the next hour rereading the novella.

I don't know why I missed it the first time, but The Metamorphosis is truly a work of genius. Honestly. It makes me want to learn better German so I can read it in its original form. (Also, being able to curse in German is pretty badass¹.) Kafka manages to take about the most ridiculous premise ever, a man, Gregor Samsa, turning overnight into a giant cockroach, and turning it into a beautiful, touching, human tale. He is in touch with the human world in a way that few writers are, and the novella is wonderfully grounded in physical details. The intimate restless beauty of a young woman, the close confines of a room, and the wistful strains of violin music all come alive to the reader. Amidst all these physical details, the deterioration of Gregor's family is hauntingly delineated. The accessibility of the work also deserves praise; there is no extraneous prose, and the story is easily comprehended by anyone able to read proficiently.

In short, Kafka has created a masterpiece in under 40 pages. The Metamorphosis has leapt, literally in the space of an hour, from a book I seldom thought about to one of my top 5 books of all time. Congratulations, Kafka. Please drop me a line any time to claim your prize of a giant hug and some home-baked cockroach-and-apple pie. You deserve it.

Rating: 8/8

Tea: I have a confession. In my excitement to reread this book, I didn't actually drink any tea. HOWEVER, if I were to read the book a third time (which I most likely will), I would have something strong and black, like English Breakfast tea. Cinnamon apple is also an appropriately ironic choice.

¹Scheiße! See? Didn't your respect for me just go up a little?