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Metamorphosis (Kafka)

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Haruki Murakami: “Samsa in Love” He woke to discover that he had undergone a metamorphosis and become Gregor Samsa.

Haruki Murakami: “Samsa in Love”

He lay flat on his back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. It took time for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. The ceiling seemed to be a common, everyday ceiling of the sort one might find anywhere. Once, it had been painted white, or possibly a pale cream. Years of dust and dirt, however, had given it the color of spoiled milk.

There was a tall window on one side of the room, to his left, but its curtain had been removed and thick boards nailed across the frame. Still on his back, he slowly turned his head and examined the rest of the room. The room had perhaps once served as a normal bedroom. Samsa had no idea where he was, or what he should do. The moment he began contemplating that question, however, something like a black column of mosquitoes swirled up in his head. In any case, he had to learn how to move his body. It took Samsa some time to realize that the pain was hunger. On Translating Kafka's 'The Metamorphosis' This essay is adapted from the afterword to the author’s new translation of “The Metamorphosis,” by Franz Kafka.

On Translating Kafka's 'The Metamorphosis'

Kafka’s celebrated novella The Metamorphosis (Die Verwandlung) was written a century ago, in late 1912, during a period in which he was having difficulty making progress on his first novel. On November 17, 1912, Kafka wrote to his fiancée Felice Bauer that he was working on a story that “came to me in my misery lying in bed” and now was haunting him. He hoped to get it written down quickly—he hadn’t yet realized how long it would be—as he felt it would turn out best if he could write it in just one or two long sittings. But there were many interruptions, and he complained to Felice several times that the delays were damaging the story.

Three weeks later, on December 7, it was finished, though it would be another three years before the story saw print. Kafka books: Susan Bernofsky translation of The Metamorphosis and Jay Cantor’s Forgiving the Angel, reviewed. Illustration by Matthew Roberts Franz Kafka has been dead for nearly 90 years, which I suppose has given him ample time to get very good at haunting people.

Kafka books: Susan Bernofsky translation of The Metamorphosis and Jay Cantor’s Forgiving the Angel, reviewed.

Such as, for example, Susan Bernofsky, author of a fastidious new translation of The Metamorphosis, and Jay Cantor, whose provocative story collection Forgiving the Angel dedicates itself to the gaunt specter of modernism. The books express their authors’ continuing fascination with Kafka from nominally opposite sides of the literary spectrum. Bernofsky aims to bring Kafka’s most beloved work into English once more, this time in a manner both fiercely loyal to his German and unapologetically of our place and time; Cantor splices together memoir and correspondence from those in Kafka’s orbit to create a new take on fan fiction, one both nuanced and literarily sophisticated. Also given its due is Kafka’s wickedly dark and dry sense of humor. Courtesy of Caroline White Instead, he haunts everyone and everything he touches. Nabokov's Metamorphosis. Vladimir Nabokov's Lecture on "The Metamorphosis" Click here to see the first page of Nabokov's teaching copy of 'The Metamorphosis.

Nabokov's Metamorphosis

" Of course, no matter how keenly, how admirably, a story, a piece of music, a picture is discussed and analyzed, there will be minds that remain blank and spines that remain unkindled. "To take upon us the mystery of things"what King Lear so wistfully says for himself and for Cordeliathis is also my suggestion for everyone who takes art seriously. A poor man is robbed of his overcoat (Gogol's "The Greatcoat," or more correctly "The Carrick"); another poor fellow is turned into a beetle (Kafka's "The Metamorphosis)so what?

There is no rational answer to "so what. " I want to discuss fantasy and reality, and their mutual relationship. The story of Jekyll and Hyde is beautifully constructed, but it is an old one. "The Carrick," "Dr. Let us take three types of men walking through the same landscape. The greatest literary influence upon Kafka was Flaubert's.

The Metamorphosis, a Study: Nabokov on Kafka (1989) Vladimir Nabokov - The Metamorphosis. Lecture on "The Metamorphosis" by Vladimir Nabokov. Of course, no matter how keenly, how admirably, a story, a piece of music, a picture is discussed and analyzed, there will be minds that remain blank and spines that remain unkindled.

Lecture on "The Metamorphosis" by Vladimir Nabokov

"To take upon us the mystery of things"—what King Lear so wistfully says for himself and for Cordelia—this is also my suggestion for everyone who takes art seriously. A poor man is robbed of his overcoat (Gogol's "The Greatcoat," or more correctly "The Carrick"); another poor fellow is turned into a beetle (Kafka's "The Metamorphosis)—so what? There is no rational answer to "so what. " We can take the story apart, we can find out how the bits fit, how one part of the pattern responds to the other; but you have to have in you some cell, some gene, some germ that will vibrate in answer to sensations that you can neither define, nor dismiss. Beauty plus pity—that is the closest we can get to a definition of art. I want to discuss fantasy and reality, and their mutual relationship.