Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka
Translated by David Wyllie.
** This is a COPYRIGHTED Project Gutenberg eBook, Details Below
** ** Please follow the copyright guidelines in this file. **
Copyright (C) 2002 David Wyllie.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.
Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how
the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since
1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of
Volunteers!*****
Title: Metamorphosis
Author: Franz Kafka

Release Date: February, 2004 [EBook #5200] [Yes, we are more than
one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on May 13,
2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK,
METAMORPHOSIS ***

Copyright (C) 2002 by David Wyllie.
Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka
Translated by David Wyllie
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