Kafka wishes to demonstrate, and the unfathomable control that the mind, whether biochemical or metaphysical, has over the rest of the body. It is striking, in fact, how oblivious Gregor appears to be to the repulsiveness of the situation. One aspect of him still conceives of himself as human enough and attempts to explain his condition to the head clerk who has come to investigate his absence at work and to assuage his familyʼs concerns and horror as they initially view his condition; the other part of Gregor is the condition, an insect lacking any appearance of humanity whatsoever, even without the power of speech. The reader then must question why Gregor has become an insect, and the reasons unfold as the story progresses. The father, never referred to in the possessive sense by Gregor himself, is domineering and almost tyrannical, first in his initial frailty, then in his increasing monopoly over the two women who comprise the rest of his family. Gregor in his musings reveals a deep sense of familial duty, which is only haltingly returned by the two women. His sister takes over Gregorʼs daily needs, attempting to cater to his needs and returning that familial devotion which Gregor feels so strongly. Gregorʼs mother, although confused, afraid, and appalled at Gregorʼs complete and grotesque change, still clings to the hope that deep within the creature which now inhabits this one room in the house resides some part of her son. Gregor himself remains two separate entities; one of which, the greater part, could be considered to be not Gregor or a ʻhim,ʼ but rather an It or Thing, since the author refrains from specifically characterizing the nature of the insect. The human Gregor is only barely present, a small corner of the mind which remains and appears to be somewhat normal and rational, but really is sickening in his inability to comprehend that his situation is unbearable. He raises no real questions as to why he has transformed, when he may turn back into a functioning member of the family, or how he has come to be this way. His family view the metamorphosis almost as a repulsive indulgence on his part, acting as if he has done it on purpose in order to make things more difficult for them. Clear and precise language, combined with Gregorʼs seemingly human and familial concerns for his job and his familyʼs welfare superficially cover over a deeply disturbed sense of self and horribly engrossing mental illness. Gregor projects his concept of self as a Thing or insect upon his family and the reader; a small part of him remains sequestered and sane enough to monitor the changes, but not enough of him remains to truly conceive of the enormity of the grotesqueness of the situation.
Interestingly enough, the two outside characters do not view him with any disgust or great unhappiness, but with pity or anger.
The first of these characters is the charwoman, whose matter-of-factness in dealing with his needs and presence convey greater acceptance of Gregorʼs infirmity than his family could ever muster. In fact, her attitude is one of disgust, but not at his appearance; rather, it is Gregorʼs allowance of his loss of humanity that mildly disgusts her, as if she has contempt that he could not gather the will to regain himself. He is pitiable to her in his inability to keep his humanity and his nearly complete acceptance of his present state. The other character, the three boarders who function as a single entity, unknowingly reside alongside the pitiful wreck for some time before that evening, when Gregor scuttles out to hear his sister play the violin. This scene reveals something of the nature of Gregorʼs true need and hunger, as he jealously regards the three boarders who take for granted the family in which they participate, and for which he has had greater and greater need, though without fully realizing that need. When they catch sight of him, they are angered, and regard him as pitiful. He is to them a monstrous family secret, but they react to him like another boarder would react to find out that prostitution was occurring in the same house, or the family were hiding an alcoholic or derelict. Gregor himself rapidly diminishes. At the beginning he finds himself in this insect-like condition because of his inability to connect with the family to which he is devoted, but who have taken him for granted. His persistent condition and fading human self serve to further isolate him by repulsing his family members one by one, as first his father shuts him out, then gradually his mother and even the sister that he once adored. It could be argued that on some level, Gregor has intentionally shut himself away within this new armor and purposely cut himself
off from even basic conversation. In a sense, the entire progression has the appearance of a slow suicide. His mind, whether by means of an extreme chemical imbalance or some other force, has firmly and decisively shut away every ability to relate to the rest of humanity, and such a shutoff starves the soul, which many believe animals and insects do not have. Gregor muses, “Iʼm hungry enough…but not for these things. How these boarders stuff themselves and here I am starving to death!” How much of that starvation was self-inflicted is unclear, and whether the creature he has become is pitiful or pitiable is likewise unclear and up to the individual interpretation of the reader. At this point, Gregorʼs mind that is Gregor has accepted the reality that some other part of Gregor has created, and his demise is certainly imminent, as this last attempt to reach out to fellow human beings is completely unsuccessful for Gregorʼs salvation, and completely successful in uniting the family against him once and for all. Gregor can finish essentially decaying now that the family has turned away completely, and his loss is total when the sister gives him up. When all the strings are cut, he can finish dying in his dark room, alone.