The
Metamorphosis
by Franz Kafka
Instructions:
1. Highlight 5 vocabulary words that you do not
know and write the definition in the margin. Label each with a (V).
2. Ask 5 questions in the margins. Label each with a (?)
3. React to 5 events in the text. Label each reaction with a (*).
4. Make 5 connections to the text,
text-to-self á text-to-text á text-to-world. Label each with a ©
Chapter 1
As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found
himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He was lying on his
hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he
could see his dome-like brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top
of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off
completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest
of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes.
What has happened to me? he thought. It was no dream. His room,
a regular human bedroom, only rather too small, lay quiet between the four
familiar walls. Above the table on which a collection of cloth samples was
unpacked and spread out-Samsa was a commercial traveler-hung the picture which
he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and put into a pretty gilt
frame. It showed a lady, with a fur cap on and a fur stole, sitting upright and
holding out to the spectator a huge fur muff into which the whole of her
forearm had vanished! Gregor's eyes turned next to the window, and the overcast
sky-one could hear rain drops beating on the window gutter-made him quite
melancholy. What about sleeping a little longer and forgetting all this
nonsense, he thought, but it could not be done, for he was accustomed to sleep
on his right side and in his present condition he could not turn himself over.
However violently he forced himself towards his right side he always rolled on
to his back again. He tried it at least a hundred times, shutting his eyes to
keep from seeing his struggling legs, and only desisted when he began to feel
in his side a faint dull ache he had never experienced before.
Oh God, he thought, what an exhausting job I've picked on!
Traveling about day in, day out. It's much more irritating work than doing the
actual business in the office, and on top of that there's the trouble of
constant traveling, of worrying about train connections, the bed and irregular
meals, casual acquaintances that are always new and never become intimate
friends. The devil take it all! He felt a slight itching up on his belly;
slowly pushed himself on his back nearer to the top of the bed so that he could
lift his head more easily; identified the itching place which was surrounded by
many small white spots the nature of which he could not understand and made to
touch it with a leg, but drew the leg back immediately, for the contact made a
cold shiver run through him.