2012년 7월 1일 일요일

카프카 변신 3

카프카 변신 3








III No-one dared to remove the apple lodged in Gregor's flesh, so it

remained there as a visible reminder of his injury. He had suffered

it there for more than a month, and his condition seemed serious

enough to remind even his father that Gregor, despite his current

sad and revolting form, was a family member who could not be treated

as an enemy. On the contrary, as a family there was a duty to

swallow any revulsion for him and to be patient, just to be patient.



Because of his injuries, Gregor had lost much of his mobility -

probably permanently. He had been reduced to the condition of an

ancient invalid and it took him long, long minutes to crawl across

his room - crawling over the ceiling was out of the question - but

this deterioration in his condition was fully (in his opinion) made

up for by the door to the living room being left open every evening.

He got into the habit of closely watching it for one or two hours

before it was opened and then, lying in the darkness of his room

where he could not be seen from the living room, he could watch the

family in the light of the dinner table and listen to their

conversation - with everyone's permission, in a way, and thus quite

differently from before.



They no longer held the lively conversations of earlier times, of

course, the ones that Gregor always thought about with longing when

he was tired and getting into the damp bed in some small hotel room.

All of them were usually very quiet nowadays. Soon after dinner,

his father would go to sleep in his chair; his mother and sister

would urge each other to be quiet; his mother, bent deeply under the

lamp, would sew fancy underwear for a fashion shop; his sister, who

had taken a sales job, learned shorthand and French in the evenings

so that she might be able to get a better position later on.

Sometimes his father would wake up and say to Gregor's mother

"you're doing so much sewing again today!", as if he did not know

that he had been dozing - and then he would go back to sleep again

while mother and sister would exchange a tired grin.



With a kind of stubbornness, Gregor's father refused to take his

uniform off even at home; while his nightgown hung unused on its peg

Gregor's father would slumber where he was, fully dressed, as if

always ready to serve and expecting to hear the voice of his

superior even here. The uniform had not been new to start with, but

as a result of this it slowly became even shabbier despite the

efforts of Gregor's mother and sister to look after it. Gregor

would often spend the whole evening looking at all the stains on

this coat, with its gold buttons always kept polished and shiny,

while the old man in it would sleep, highly uncomfortable but

peaceful.



As soon as it struck ten, Gregor's mother would speak gently to his

father to wake him and try to persuade him to go to bed, as he

couldn't sleep properly where he was and he really had to get his

sleep if he was to be up at six to get to work. But since he had

been in work he had become more obstinate and would always insist on

staying longer at the table, even though he regularly fell asleep

and it was then harder than ever to persuade him to exchange the

chair for his bed. Then, however much mother and sister would

importune him with little reproaches and warnings he would keep

slowly shaking his head for a quarter of an hour with his eyes

closed and refusing to get up. Gregor's mother would tug at his

sleeve, whisper endearments into his ear, Gregor's sister would

leave her work to help her mother, but nothing would have any effect

on him. He would just sink deeper into his chair. Only when the

two women took him under the arms he would abruptly open his eyes,

look at them one after the other and say: "What a life! This is what

peace I get in my old age!" And supported by the two women he would

lift himself up carefully as if he were carrying the greatest load

himself, let the women take him to the door, send them off and carry

on by himself while Gregor's mother would throw down her needle and

his sister her pen so that they could run after his father and

continue being of help to him.



Who, in this tired and overworked family, would have had time to

give more attention to Gregor than was absolutely necessary? The

household budget became even smaller; so now the maid was dismissed;

an enormous, thick-boned charwoman with white hair that flapped

around her head came every morning and evening to do the heaviest

work; everything else was looked after by Gregor's mother on top of

the large amount of sewing work she did. Gregor even learned,

listening to the evening conversation about what price they had

hoped for, that several items of jewellery belonging to the family

had been sold, even though both mother and sister had been very fond

of wearing them at functions and celebrations. But the loudest

complaint was that although the flat was much too big for their

present circumstances, they could not move out of it, there was no

imaginable way of transferring Gregor to the new address. He could

see quite well, though, that there were more reasons than

consideration for him that made it difficult for them to move, it

would have been quite easy to transport him in any suitable crate

with a few air holes in it; the main thing holding the family back

from their decision to move was much more to do with their total

despair, and the thought that they had been struck with a misfortune

unlike anything experienced by anyone else they knew or were related

to. They carried out absolutely everything that the world expects

from poor people, Gregor's father brought bank employees their

breakfast, his mother sacrificed herself by washing clothes for

strangers, his sister ran back and forth behind her desk at the

behest of the customers, but they just did not have the strength to

do any more. And the injury in Gregor's back began to hurt as much

as when it was new. After they had come back from taking his father

to bed Gregor's mother and sister would now leave their work where

it was and sit close together, cheek to cheek; his mother would

point to Gregor's room and say "Close that door, Grete", and then,

when he was in the dark again, they would sit in the next room and

their tears would mingle, or they would simply sit there staring

dry-eyed at the table.



Gregor hardly slept at all, either night or day. Sometimes he would

think of taking over the family's affairs, just like before, the

next time the door was opened; he had long forgotten about his boss

and the chief clerk, but they would appear again in his thoughts,

the salesmen and the apprentices, that stupid teaboy, two or three

friends from other businesses, one of the chambermaids from a

provincial hotel, a tender memory that appeared and disappeared

again, a cashier from a hat shop for whom his attention had been

serious but too slow, - all of them appeared to him, mixed together

with strangers and others he had forgotten, but instead of helping

him and his family they were all of them inaccessible, and he was

glad when they disappeared. Other times he was not at all in the

mood to look after his family, he was filled with simple rage about

the lack of attention he was shown, and although he could think of

nothing he would have wanted, he made plans of how he could get into

the pantry where he could take all the things he was entitled to,

even if he was not hungry. Gregor's sister no longer thought about

how she could please him but would hurriedly push some food or other

into his room with her foot before she rushed out to work in the

morning and at midday, and in the evening she would sweep it away

again with the broom, indifferent as to whether it had been eaten or

- more often than not - had been left totally untouched. She still

cleared up the room in the evening, but now she could not have been

any quicker about it. Smears of dirt were left on the walls, here

and there were little balls of dust and filth. At first, Gregor

went into one of the worst of these places when his sister arrived

as a reproach to her, but he could have stayed there for weeks

without his sister doing anything about it; she could see the dirt

as well as he could but she had simply decided to leave him to it.

At the same time she became touchy in a way that was quite new for

her and which everyone in the family understood - cleaning up

Gregor's room was for her and her alone. Gregor's mother did once

thoroughly clean his room, and needed to use several bucketfuls of

water to do it - although that much dampness also made Gregor ill

and he lay flat on the couch, bitter and immobile. But his mother

was to be punished still more for what she had done, as hardly had

his sister arrived home in the evening than she noticed the change

in Gregor's room and, highly aggrieved, ran back into the living

room where, despite her mothers raised and imploring hands, she

broke into convulsive tears. Her father, of course, was startled

out of his chair and the two parents looked on astonished and

helpless; then they, too, became agitated; Gregor's father, standing

to the right of his mother, accused her of not leaving the cleaning

of Gregor's room to his sister; from her left, Gregor's sister

screamed at her that she was never to clean Gregor's room again;

while his mother tried to draw his father, who was beside himself

with anger, into the bedroom; his sister, quaking with tears,

thumped on the table with her small fists; and Gregor hissed in

anger that no-one had even thought of closing the door to save him

the sight of this and all its noise.



Gregor's sister was exhausted from going out to work, and looking

after Gregor as she had done before was even more work for her, but

even so his mother ought certainly not to have taken her place.

Gregor, on the other hand, ought not to be neglected. Now, though,

the charwoman was here. This elderly widow, with a robust bone

structure that made her able to withstand the hardest of things in

her long life, wasn't really repelled by Gregor. Just by chance one

day, rather than any real curiosity, she opened the door to Gregor's

room and found herself face to face with him. He was taken totally

by surprise, no-one was chasing him but he began to rush to and fro

while she just stood there in amazement with her hands crossed in

front of her. From then on she never failed to open the door

slightly every evening and morning and look briefly in on him. At

first she would call to him as she did so with words that she

probably considered friendly, such as "come on then, you old

dung-beetle!", or "look at the old dung-beetle there!" Gregor never

responded to being spoken to in that way, but just remained where he

was without moving as if the door had never even been opened. If

only they had told this charwoman to clean up his room every day

instead of letting her disturb him for no reason whenever she felt

like it! One day, early in the morning while a heavy rain struck the

windowpanes, perhaps indicating that spring was coming, she began to

speak to him in that way once again. Gregor was so resentful of it

that he started to move toward her, he was slow and infirm, but it

was like a kind of attack. Instead of being afraid, the charwoman

just lifted up one of the chairs from near the door and stood there

with her mouth open, clearly intending not to close her mouth until

the chair in her hand had been slammed down into Gregor's back.

"Aren't you coming any closer, then?", she asked when Gregor turned

round again, and she calmly put the chair back in the corner.



Gregor had almost entirely stopped eating. Only if he happened to

find himself next to the food that had been prepared for him he

might take some of it into his mouth to play with it, leave it there

a few hours and then, more often than not, spit it out again. At

first he thought it was distress at the state of his room that

stopped him eating, but he had soon got used to the changes made

there. They had got into the habit of putting things into this room

that they had no room for anywhere else, and there were now many

such things as one of the rooms in the flat had been rented out to

three gentlemen. These earnest gentlemen - all three of them had

full beards, as Gregor learned peering through the crack in the door

one day - were painfully insistent on things' being tidy. This

meant not only in their own room but, since they had taken a room in

this establishment, in the entire flat and especially in the

kitchen. Unnecessary clutter was something they could not tolerate,

especially if it was dirty. They had moreover brought most of their

own furnishings and equipment with them. For this reason, many

things had become superfluous which, although they could not be

sold, the family did not wish to discard. All these things found

their way into Gregor's room. The dustbins from the kitchen found

their way in there too. The charwoman was always in a hurry, and

anything she couldn't use for the time being she would just chuck in

there. He, fortunately, would usually see no more than the object

and the hand that held it. The woman most likely meant to fetch the

things back out again when she had time and the opportunity, or to

throw everything out in one go, but what actually happened was that

they were left where they landed when they had first been thrown

unless Gregor made his way through the junk and moved it somewhere

else. At first he moved it because, with no other room free where

he could crawl about, he was forced to, but later on he came to

enjoy it although moving about in the way left him sad and tired to

death and he would remain immobile for hours afterwards.



The gentlemen who rented the room would sometimes take their evening

meal at home in the living room that was used by everyone, and so

the door to this room was often kept closed in the evening. But

Gregor found it easy to give up having the door open, he had, after

all, often failed to make use of it when it was open and, without

the family having noticed it, lain in his room in its darkest

corner. One time, though, the charwoman left the door to the living

room slightly open, and it remained open when the gentlemen who

rented the room came in in the evening and the light was put on.

They sat up at the table where, formerly, Gregor had taken his meals

with his father and mother, they unfolded the serviettes and picked

up their knives and forks. Gregor's mother immediately appeared in

the doorway with a dish of meat and soon behind her came his sister

with a dish piled high with potatoes. The food was steaming, and

filled the room with its smell. The gentlemen bent over the dishes

set in front of them as if they wanted to test the food before

eating it, and the gentleman in the middle, who seemed to count as

an authority for the other two, did indeed cut off a piece of meat

while it was still in its dish, clearly wishing to establish whether

it was sufficiently cooked or whether it should be sent back to the

kitchen. It was to his satisfaction, and Gregor's mother and

sister, who had been looking on anxiously, began to breathe again

and smiled.



The family themselves ate in the kitchen. Nonetheless, Gregor's

father came into the living room before he went into the kitchen,

bowed once with his cap in his hand and did his round of the table.

The gentlemen stood as one, and mumbled something into their beards.

Then, once they were alone, they ate in near perfect silence. It

seemed remarkable to Gregor that above all the various noises of

eating their chewing teeth could still be heard, as if they had

wanted to Show Gregor that you need teeth in order to eat and it was

not possible to perform anything with jaws that are toothless

however nice they might be. "I'd like to eat something", said

Gregor anxiously, "but not anything like they're eating. They do

feed themselves. And here I am, dying!"



Throughout all this time, Gregor could not remember having heard the

violin being played, but this evening it began to be heard from the

kitchen. The three gentlemen had already finished their meal, the

one in the middle had produced a newspaper, given a page to each of

the others, and now they leant back in their chairs reading them and

smoking. When the violin began playing they became attentive, stood

up and went on tip-toe over to the door of the hallway where they

stood pressed against each other. Someone must have heard them in

the kitchen, as Gregor's father called out: "Is the playing perhaps

unpleasant for the gentlemen? We can stop it straight away." "On

the contrary", said the middle gentleman, "would the young lady not

like to come in and play for us here in the room, where it is, after

all, much more cosy and comfortable?" "Oh yes, we'd love to",

called back Gregor's father as if he had been the violin player

himself. The gentlemen stepped back into the room and waited.

Gregor's father soon appeared with the music stand, his mother with

the music and his sister with the violin. She calmly prepared

everything for her to begin playing; his parents, who had never

rented a room out before and therefore showed an exaggerated

courtesy towards the three gentlemen, did not even dare to sit on

their own chairs; his father leant against the door with his right

hand pushed in between two buttons on his uniform coat; his mother,

though, was offered a seat by one of the gentlemen and sat - leaving

the chair where the gentleman happened to have placed it - out of

the way in a corner.



His sister began to play; father and mother paid close attention,

one on each side, to the movements of her hands. Drawn in by the

playing, Gregor had dared to come forward a little and already had

his head in the living room. Before, he had taken great pride in

how considerate he was but now it hardly occurred to him that he had

become so thoughtless about the others. What's more, there was now

all the more reason to keep himself hidden as he was covered in the

dust that lay everywhere in his room and flew up at the slightest

movement; he carried threads, hairs, and remains of food about on

his back and sides; he was much too indifferent to everything now to

lay on his back and wipe himself on the carpet like he had used to

do several times a day. And despite this condition, he was not too

shy to move forward a little onto the immaculate floor of the living

room.



No-one noticed him, though. The family was totally preoccupied with

the violin playing; at first, the three gentlemen had put their

hands in their pockets and come up far too close behind the music

stand to look at all the notes being played, and they must have

disturbed Gregor's sister, but soon, in contrast with the family,

they withdrew back to the window with their heads sunk and talking

to each other at half volume, and they stayed by the window while

Gregor's father observed them anxiously. It really now seemed very

obvious that they had expected to hear some beautiful or

entertaining violin playing but had been disappointed, that they had

had enough of the whole performance and it was only now out of

politeness that they allowed their peace to be disturbed. It was

especially unnerving, the way they all blew the smoke from their

cigarettes upwards from their mouth and noses. Yet Gregor's sister

was playing so beautifully. Her face was leant to one side,

following the lines of music with a careful and melancholy

expression. Gregor crawled a little further forward, keeping his

head close to the ground so that he could meet her eyes if the

chance came. Was he an animal if music could captivate him so? It

seemed to him that he was being shown the way to the unknown

nourishment he had been yearning for. He was determined to make his

way forward to his sister and tug at her skirt to show her she might

come into his room with her violin, as no-one appreciated her

playing here as much as he would. He never wanted to let her out of

his room, not while he lived, anyway; his shocking appearance

should, for once, be of some use to him; he wanted to be at every

door of his room at once to hiss and spit at the attackers; his

sister should not be forced to stay with him, though, but stay of

her own free will; she would sit beside him on the couch with her

ear bent down to him while he told her how he had always intended to

send her to the conservatory, how he would have told everyone about

it last Christmas - had Christmas really come and gone already? - if

this misfortune hadn't got in the way, and refuse to let anyone

dissuade him from it. On hearing all this, his sister would break

out in tears of emotion, and Gregor would climb up to her shoulder

and kiss her neck, which, since she had been going out to work, she

had kept free without any necklace or collar.



"Mr. Samsa!", shouted the middle gentleman to Gregor's father,

pointing, without wasting any more words, with his forefinger at

Gregor as he slowly moved forward. The violin went silent, the

middle of the three gentlemen first smiled at his two friends,

shaking his head, and then looked back at Gregor. His father seemed

to think it more important to calm the three gentlemen before

driving Gregor out, even though they were not at all upset and

seemed to think Gregor was more entertaining than the violin playing

had been. He rushed up to them with his arms spread out and

attempted to drive them back into their room at the same time as

trying to block their view of Gregor with his body. Now they did

become a little annoyed, and it was not clear whether it was his

father's behaviour that annoyed them or the dawning realisation that

they had had a neighbour like Gregor in the next room without

knowing it. They asked Gregor's father for explanations, raised

their arms like he had, tugged excitedly at their beards and moved

back towards their room only very slowly. Meanwhile Gregor's sister

had overcome the despair she had fallen into when her playing was

suddenly interrupted. She had let her hands drop and let violin and

bow hang limply for a while but continued to look at the music as if

still playing, but then she suddenly pulled herself together, lay

the instrument on her mother's lap who still sat laboriously

struggling for breath where she was, and ran into the next room

which, under pressure from her father, the three gentlemen were more

quickly moving toward. Under his sister's experienced hand, the

pillows and covers on the beds flew up and were put into order and

she had already finished making the beds and slipped out again

before the three gentlemen had reached the room. Gregor's father

seemed so obsessed with what he was doing that he forgot all the

respect he owed to his tenants. He urged them and pressed them

until, when he was already at the door of the room, the middle of

the three gentlemen shouted like thunder and stamped his foot and

thereby brought Gregor's father to a halt. "I declare here and

now", he said, raising his hand and glancing at Gregor's mother and

sister to gain their attention too, "that with regard to the

repugnant conditions that prevail in this flat and with this family"

- here he looked briefly but decisively at the floor - "I give

immediate notice on my room. For the days that I have been living

here I will, of course, pay nothing at all, on the contrary I will

consider whether to proceed with some kind of action for damages

from you, and believe me it would be very easy to set out the

grounds for such an action." He was silent and looked straight

ahead as if waiting for something. And indeed, his two friends

joined in with the words: "And we also give immediate notice." With

that, he took hold of the door handle and slammed the door.



Gregor's father staggered back to his seat, feeling his way with his

hands, and fell into it; it looked as if he was stretching himself

out for his usual evening nap but from the uncontrolled way his head

kept nodding it could be seen that he was not sleeping at all.

Throughout all this, Gregor had lain still where the three gentlemen

had first seen him. His disappointment at the failure of his plan,

and perhaps also because he was weak from hunger, made it impossible

for him to move. He was sure that everyone would turn on him any

moment, and he waited. He was not even startled out of this state

when the violin on his mother's lap fell from her trembling fingers

and landed loudly on the floor.



"Father, Mother", said his sister, hitting the table with her hand

as introduction, "we can't carry on like this. Maybe you can't see

it, but I can. I don't want to call this monster my brother, all I

can say is: we have to try and get rid of it. We've done all that's

humanly possible to look after it and be patient, I don't think

anyone could accuse us of doing anything wrong."



"She's absolutely right", said Gregor's father to himself. His

mother, who still had not had time to catch her breath, began to

cough dully, her hand held out in front of her and a deranged

expression in her eyes.



Gregor's sister rushed to his mother and put her hand on her

forehead. Her words seemed to give Gregor's father some more

definite ideas. He sat upright, played with his uniform cap between

the plates left by the three gentlemen after their meal, and

occasionally looked down at Gregor as he lay there immobile.



"We have to try and get rid of it", said Gregor's sister, now

speaking only to her father, as her mother was too occupied with

coughing to listen, "it'll be the death of both of you, I can see it

coming. We can't all work as hard as we have to and then come home

to be tortured like this, we can't endure it. I can't endure it any

more." And she broke out so heavily in tears that they flowed down

the face of her mother, and she wiped them away with mechanical hand

movements.



"My child", said her father with sympathy and obvious understanding,

"what are we to do?"



His sister just shrugged her shoulders as a sign of the helplessness

and tears that had taken hold of her, displacing her earlier

certainty.



"If he could just understand us", said his father almost as a

question; his sister shook her hand vigorously through her tears as

a sign that of that there was no question.



"If he could just understand us", repeated Gregor's father, closing

his eyes in acceptance of his sister's certainty that that was quite

impossible, "then perhaps we could come to some kind of arrangement

with him. But as it is ..."



"It's got to go", shouted his sister, "that's the only way, Father.

You've got to get rid of the idea that that's Gregor. We've only

harmed ourselves by believing it for so long. How can that be

Gregor? If it were Gregor he would have seen long ago that it's not

possible for human beings to live with an animal like that and he

would have gone of his own free will. We wouldn't have a brother

any more, then, but we could carry on with our lives and remember

him with respect. As it is this animal is persecuting us, it's

driven out our tenants, it obviously wants to take over the whole

flat and force us to sleep on the streets. Father, look, just

look", she suddenly screamed, "he's starting again!" In her alarm,

which was totally beyond Gregor's comprehension, his sister even

abandoned his mother as she pushed herself vigorously out of her

chair as if more willing to sacrifice her own mother than stay

anywhere near Gregor. She rushed over to behind her father, who had

become excited merely because she was and stood up half raising his

hands in front of Gregor's sister as if to protect her.



But Gregor had had no intention of frightening anyone, least of all

his sister. All he had done was begin to turn round so that he

could go back into his room, although that was in itself quite

startling as his pain-wracked condition meant that turning round

required a great deal of effort and he was using his head to help

himself do it, repeatedly raising it and striking it against the

floor. He stopped and looked round. They seemed to have realised

his good intention and had only been alarmed briefly. Now they all

looked at him in unhappy silence. His mother lay in her chair with

her legs stretched out and pressed against each other, her eyes

nearly closed with exhaustion; his sister sat next to his father

with her arms around his neck.



"Maybe now they'll let me turn round", thought Gregor and went back

to work. He could not help panting loudly with the effort and had

sometimes to stop and take a rest. No-one was making him rush any

more, everything was left up to him. As soon as he had finally

finished turning round he began to move straight ahead. He was

amazed at the great distance that separated him from his room, and

could not understand how he had covered that distance in his weak

state a little while before and almost without noticing it. He

concentrated on crawling as fast as he could and hardly noticed that

there was not a word, not any cry, from his family to distract him.

He did not turn his head until he had reached the doorway. He did

not turn it all the way round as he felt his neck becoming stiff,

but it was nonetheless enough to see that nothing behind him had

changed, only his sister had stood up. With his last glance he saw

that his mother had now fallen completely asleep.



He was hardly inside his room before the door was hurriedly shut,

bolted and locked. The sudden noise behind Gregor so startled him

that his little legs collapsed under him. It was his sister who had

been in so much of a rush. She had been standing there waiting and

sprung forward lightly, Gregor had not heard her coming at all, and

as she turned the key in the lock she said loudly to her parents "At

last!".



"What now, then?", Gregor asked himself as he looked round in the

darkness. He soon made the discovery that he could no longer move

at all. This was no surprise to him, it seemed rather that being

able to actually move around on those spindly little legs until then

was unnatural. He also felt relatively comfortable. It is true

that his entire body was aching, but the pain seemed to be slowly

getting weaker and weaker and would finally disappear altogether.

He could already hardly feel the decayed apple in his back or the

inflamed area around it, which was entirely covered in white dust.

He thought back of his family with emotion and love. If it was

possible, he felt that he must go away even more strongly than his

sister. He remained in this state of empty and peaceful rumination

until he heard the clock tower strike three in the morning. He

watched as it slowly began to get light everywhere outside the

window too. Then, without his willing it, his head sank down

completely, and his last breath flowed weakly from his nostrils.



When the cleaner came in early in the morning - they'd often asked

her not to keep slamming the doors but with her strength and in her

hurry she still did, so that everyone in the flat knew when she'd

arrived and from then on it was impossible to sleep in peace - she

made her usual brief look in on Gregor and at first found nothing

special. She thought he was laying there so still on purpose,

playing the martyr; she attributed all possible understanding to

him. She happened to be holding the long broom in her hand, so she

tried to tickle Gregor with it from the doorway. When she had no

success with that she tried to make a nuisance of herself and poked

at him a little, and only when she found she could shove him across

the floor with no resistance at all did she start to pay attention.

She soon realised what had really happened, opened her eyes wide,

whistled to herself, but did not waste time to yank open the bedroom

doors and shout loudly into the darkness of the bedrooms: "Come and

'ave a look at this, it's dead, just lying there, stone dead!"



Mr. and Mrs. Samsa sat upright there in their marriage bed and had

to make an effort to get over the shock caused by the cleaner before

they could grasp what she was saying. But then, each from his own

side, they hurried out of bed. Mr. Samsa threw the blanket over his

shoulders, Mrs. Samsa just came out in her nightdress; and that is

how they went into Gregor's room. On the way they opened the door

to the living room where Grete had been sleeping since the three

gentlemen had moved in; she was fully dressed as if she had never

been asleep, and the paleness of her face seemed to confirm this.

"Dead?", asked Mrs. Samsa, looking at the charwoman enquiringly,

even though she could have checked for herself and could have known

it even without checking. "That's what I said", replied the

cleaner, and to prove it she gave Gregor's body another shove with

the broom, sending it sideways across the floor. Mrs. Samsa made a

movement as if she wanted to hold back the broom, but did not

complete it. "Now then", said Mr. Samsa, "let's give thanks to God

for that". He crossed himself, and the three women followed his

example. Grete, who had not taken her eyes from the corpse, said:

"Just look how thin he was. He didn't eat anything for so long.

The food came out again just the same as when it went in". Gregor's

body was indeed completely dried up and flat, they had not seen it

until then, but now he was not lifted up on his little legs, nor did

he do anything to make them look away.



"Grete, come with us in here for a little while", said Mrs. Samsa

with a pained smile, and Grete followed her parents into the bedroom

but not without looking back at the body. The cleaner shut the door

and opened the window wide. Although it was still early in the

morning the fresh air had something of warmth mixed in with it. It

was already the end of March, after all.



The three gentlemen stepped out of their room and looked round in

amazement for their breakfasts; they had been forgotten about.

"Where is our breakfast?", the middle gentleman asked the cleaner

irritably. She just put her finger on her lips and made a quick and

silent sign to the men that they might like to come into Gregor's

room. They did so, and stood around Gregor's corpse with their

hands in the pockets of their well-worn coats. It was now quite

light in the room.



Then the door of the bedroom opened and Mr. Samsa appeared in his

uniform with his wife on one arm and his daughter on the other. All

of them had been crying a little; Grete now and then pressed her

face against her father's arm.



"Leave my home. Now!", said Mr. Samsa, indicating the door and

without letting the women from him. "What do you mean?", asked the

middle of the three gentlemen somewhat disconcerted, and he smiled

sweetly. The other two held their hands behind their backs and

continually rubbed them together in gleeful anticipation of a loud

quarrel which could only end in their favour. "I mean just what I

said", answered Mr. Samsa, and, with his two companions, went in a

straight line towards the man. At first, he stood there still,

looking at the ground as if the contents of his head were

rearranging themselves into new positions. "Alright, we'll go

then", he said, and looked up at Mr. Samsa as if he had been

suddenly overcome with humility and wanted permission again from

Mr. Samsa for his decision. Mr. Samsa merely opened his eyes wide

and briefly nodded to him several times. At that, and without

delay, the man actually did take long strides into the front

hallway; his two friends had stopped rubbing their hands some time

before and had been listening to what was being said. Now they

jumped off after their friend as if taken with a sudden fear that

Mr. Samsa might go into the hallway in front of them and break the

connection with their leader. Once there, all three took their hats

from the stand, took their sticks from the holder, bowed without a

word and left the premises. Mr. Samsa and the two women followed

them out onto the landing; but they had had no reason to mistrust

the men's intentions and as they leaned over the landing they saw how

the three gentlemen made slow but steady progress down the many

steps. As they turned the corner on each floor they disappeared and

would reappear a few moments later; the further down they went, the

more that the Samsa family lost interest in them; when a butcher's

boy, proud of posture with his tray on his head, passed them on his

way up and came nearer than they were, Mr. Samsa and the women came

away from the landing and went, as if relieved, back into the flat.



They decided the best way to make use of that day was for relaxation

and to go for a walk; not only had they earned a break from work but

they were in serious need of it. So they sat at the table and wrote

three letters of excusal, Mr. Samsa to his employers, Mrs. Samsa

to her contractor and Grete to her principal. The cleaner came in

while they were writing to tell them she was going, she'd finished

her work for that morning. The three of them at first just nodded

without looking up from what they were writing, and it was only when

the cleaner still did not seem to want to leave that they looked up

in irritation. "Well?", asked Mr. Samsa. The charwoman stood in

the doorway with a smile on her face as if she had some tremendous

good news to report, but would only do it if she was clearly asked

to. The almost vertical little ostrich feather on her hat, which

had been source of irritation to Mr. Samsa all the time she had

been working for them, swayed gently in all directions. "What is it

you want then?", asked Mrs. Samsa, whom the cleaner had the most

respect for. "Yes", she answered, and broke into a friendly laugh

that made her unable to speak straight away, "well then, that thing

in there, you needn't worry about how you're going to get rid of it.

That's all been sorted out." Mrs. Samsa and Grete bent down over

their letters as if intent on continuing with what they were

writing; Mr. Samsa saw that the cleaner wanted to start describing

everything in detail but, with outstretched hand, he made it quite

clear that she was not to. So, as she was prevented from telling

them all about it, she suddenly remembered what a hurry she was in

and, clearly peeved, called out "Cheerio then, everyone", turned

round sharply and left, slamming the door terribly as she went.



"Tonight she gets sacked", said Mr. Samsa, but he received no reply

from either his wife or his daughter as the charwoman seemed to have

destroyed the peace they had only just gained. They got up and went

over to the window where they remained with their arms around each

other. Mr. Samsa twisted round in his chair to look at them and sat

there watching for a while. Then he called out: "Come here, then.

Let's forget about all that old stuff, shall we. Come and give me a

bit of attention". The two women immediately did as he said,

hurrying over to him where they kissed him and hugged him and then

they quickly finished their letters.



After that, the three of them left the flat together, which was

something they had not done for months, and took the tram out to the

open country outside the town. They had the tram, filled with warm

sunshine, all to themselves. Leant back comfortably on their seats,

they discussed their prospects and found that on closer examination

they were not at all bad - until then they had never asked each

other about their work but all three had jobs which were very good

and held particularly good promise for the future. The greatest

improvement for the time being, of course, would be achieved quite

easily by moving house; what they needed now was a flat that was

smaller and cheaper than the current one which had been chosen by

Gregor, one that was in a better location and, most of all, more

practical. All the time, Grete was becoming livelier. With all the

worry they had been having of late her cheeks had become pale, but,

while they were talking, Mr. and Mrs. Samsa were struck, almost

simultaneously, with the thought of how their daughter was

blossoming into a well built and beautiful young lady. They became

quieter. Just from each other's glance and almost without knowing

it they agreed that it would soon be time to find a good man for

her. And, as if in confirmation of their new dreams and good

intentions, as soon as they reached their destination Grete was the

first to get up and stretch out her young body.









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