The complexities of Kafka’s The Metamorphosis makes it impossible to analyze without spendings hours on imagery alone, but for the sake of sanity on everyone’s behalf, I’m only going to focus on three distinct images: Gregor’s bed, his magazine clipping, and the apple that ends up lodged in his back. At first glance, these three objects seem unrelated – and potential insignificant to the story of Gregor’s transformation – but they do share a commonality in how they showcase the underlying struggle between Gregor and his family.
We first stumble across Gregor on the morning following his change, just waking up from a bad dream in his bed. His covers are darkly noted as being “forever on the point of slipping off entirely” (210). The choice of describing the falling covers as having been so “forever” suggests that they had been in that situation even when Gregor was still “human.” In the analysis of symbols in dreams, a study associated with Freud – who’s mentioned as having had an influence on Kafka’s work – the bed represents something along the lines of security and personality. The bed is a safe haven, a place where Gregor is free to be without family or work, where he is simply Gregor. Not “Gregor the Son,” or “Gregor the Brother,” or “Gregor the Traveling Salesman,” but “Simply Gregor.” To have the covers of his bed be always in a position where they may very well fall off carries the notion that Gregor is edging closer and closer to having no real personality of his own, and instead become an entity with the singular focus on providing for his family.
Once Gregor becomes aware of his new body, and of his impending trouble over being late to work, he begins a series of maneuvers to try and get himself out of his bed. He twists and turns, and it’s several pages before he’s actually able to fall out of bed. His only reasoning for getting out of bed is because he has to get to work, and he doesn’t seem to realize that he can’t exactly do any kind of work because he’s now an insect. There’s no shock and panic from Gregor due to his new form, only for his job. He keeps thinking about the time and what train he’s going to have to catch, and so he does whatever he can to get out of bed, thinking: “that the most sensible solution was to try anything that offered even the smallest chance of getting free of his bed” (213). It’s funny how now that Gregor’s no longer in a condition to provide for his family, he’s having trouble getting out of bed – he’s free from the overpowering motive behind him taking a job he clearly dislikes, and he’s technically now able to define himself as something other than a man working in the shadow of his parents’ debts. Literally. He’s become an insect, and yet all he’s preoccupied with is getting away from the one space where he can be himself.
All this isn’t to say that Gregor has already given up on being his own person, for right after we read about the tottering covers on his bed, we notice a picture of a woman in fur hung on his bedroom wall, something that Gregor “had only recently clipped from a magazine, and set in an attractive gilt frame” (210). We’re given no explanation for why Gregor would clip this particular picture, but it remains as an object that Gregor has apparently liked and wished to retain. The clipping is something Gregor himself enjoys, not something work or family related. What this clipping represents about Gregor’s personality isn’t important, because its presence alone reminds us that there may still be something within Gregor that wants to separate himself from the relationships he’s currently buried in.
Gregor’s lack of personality becomes a more pressing issue for him as he grows accustomed to living in his new body, and while the thoughts of how his parents are going to support themselves now that Gregor’s not able to do so never leave his mind, Gregor’s mind is free to wander. When his sister and mother begin removing furniture from his room because they believe that he’d like all the empty space to crawl around in, Gregor quickly becomes angry and possessive. The removal of his furniture at the hands of his family is representative of how his family’s burdens have stripped Gregor of his own identity, and this act finally allows Gregor to realize this himself. As a response, Gregor becomes determined to save anything of his belongings, and in his mad dash he ends up crawling onto the wall to rest upon the very same magazine clipping from before. His choice to save the picture, whether subconscious or not, highlights the realized struggle to retain a separate identity from his family, for the picture is unique from the other furniture pieces in that it is something that belongs to solely Gregor.
Tensions between Gregor and his family only escalate from this point onward, and reach a depressing high when his own father begins to pelt him with apples in an attempt to scare Gregor back into his room and away from the family. After one apple hits Gregor and rolls off, another ends up stuck in his back:
…it remained embedded in his flesh, as a visible memento–seemed to have reminded even his father that in spite of his current sorry and loathsome form, Gregor remained a member of the family, and not treated like an enemy, but as someone whom–all revulsion to the contrary–family duty compelled one to choke down, and who must be tolerated, simply tolerated (231).
Kafka makes it easy and flat-out tells us what the imagery of this stuck apple means, but turns the idea that the apple would serve as a rejection of Gregor by his family into a beacon of hope for Gregor – because the presence of that apple reminds his family that even though he may have a different appearance, he’s still one of them, and part of the family unit. Since Gregor’s position as family provider has been taken away, Gregor has no other actual relation to his family, but the apple keeps them from taking any action to remove him from the house, because on some level they do still recognize that this giant insect is related to them. They don’t accept him by any means, but they at least “tolerate” him. He may serve no purpose to them in his current state, but by attempting to reject him with the apples, they inadvertently give Gregor the new identity as the “sorry and loathsome form.”
This new identity only lasts for a short while, and the choice of an apple to become stuck to Gregor becomes more obvious towards the end of the story: “The rotten apple in his back and the inflammation all round it … he barely felt any more” (239). The apple has gone rotten, much like his relationship with his family who can hardly bare to acknowledge his existence anymore. They’ve discussed moving to a new apartment, and even his sister has grown wary of entering Gregor’s room to clean. The pain of his old-new relationship with them is hardly felt by Gregor in these last pages, and Gregor is once again found without an identity in relation to anyone or anything other than himself. Sadly, he never comprehends this, and his dutiful existence ends with him dying in what appears to be a final act to make things easier for his family…
But did he have to?