You wake up in a morning and you do not have the human body you had been wearing for years, but you transformed overnight into a monstrous insect. What do you do about that, how do you react?
Metamorphosis tells the story of Gregor Samsa, who went to bed as a young man and woke up as a young insect with a curved brown belly, divided by stiff arching ribs. “His numerous legs, which were pathetically thin compared with the rest of his bulk, danced helplessly before his eyes.” Of course, the first question that could come to your mind in such a miserable situation is “What has happened to me?”. And Gregor ask himself this question. Once. Jut once. Without even bothering to answer. And then immediately starts to adapt to his new body without questioning what had happened to him, why, what is the sense of this strange metamorphosis…
I revoltingly read each page searching for an explanation. I want to read Gregor’s reflection about his metamorphism, I need to see his struggle in finding out what life has treated him this way and what could he possible learn out of this experience. I go through his life story, working restlessly for supporting his family, waking up early in the morning, bearing an unbearable boss, giving up to himself for a life dedicated to earning the necessary money for the family’s daily expenses. As a reward for everything Gregor has done for his family, his sister, his mother and his father will clean and feed Gregor, the insect, for a while. Finally they decide it is too much trouble having him in their house – now taken care by other financial means – and they are about to throw out the ex-son, the ex-brother as you normally get rid of any insect in your house.
Where is the reflection about yourself, Gregor? About the life you carry, about your existence and the sense of all the rat race you choose? Where is the search of the meaning of the metamorphosis? It’s as dead as an old stiff bug swept by a heavy broom in the basement. And we die slowly without it as well.