Kaf(ka) It Up, Gregor

    I just wanted to add some more thoughts to our conversation the other day about what Kafka is saying about life in the 20th century.  One theme we talked about was industrialization.  I think that during that time period, and prior to the time Kafka was writing The Metamorphosis, industrialization definitely contributed to people feeling like objects instead of real people.  The monotony and intensive labor of industrialization could be so impersonal that workers were probably treated, and probably felt, like cogs in a machine—replaceable objects used solely for the purpose of increasing the wealth of “the ruling class” (owners of capital).

    Now, bear with me here, because this analogy is a bit of a stretch.  But if we say that Gregor’s father is the “ruling class,” then that makes Gregor the working class, right?  Gregor’s dad just kind of directs Gregor into working this monotonous, soul-sucking job.  He almost objectifies Gregor, really, in that he sees Gregor as a money source to cough up the income.  But Gregor isn’t the only one treated as an object.  Gregor’s dad also sees Grete as a source of money.  First of all, I suspect he is the one who encourages Grete to play the violin in the kitchen while the three tenants dine, in the hopes of getting into their good graces with Grete’s music.  He probably doesn’t truly care about Grete’s musical abilities, but rather what they can earn him.  At the end of the novella, the father and mother also view Grete as an object, pretty much, to marry off.  But mostly what I wanted to focus on was Gregor.  His job really just sucks the life and creativity out of him, and he does it for an impersonal employer (the dad) who views Gregor as untrustworthy (he doesn’t tell Gregor about the extra money) and whom we, the readers, probably view as selfish.

    And yet, despite the really unfortunate treatment he receives at the hands of his family, Gregor is still a good enough person to truly care for them and ultimately sacrifice his literal life for their own small-minded sense of happiness…