Chapter 1

One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found
himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his
armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his
brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections.
The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off
any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the
rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked.

“What’s happened to me?” he thought. It wasn’t a dream. His room, a
proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between
its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples lay spread out
on the table—Samsa was a travelling salesman—and above it there hung a
picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and
housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed a lady fitted out with a fur
hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered
the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer.

Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. Drops of
rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad.
“How about if I sleep a little bit longer and forget all this
nonsense”, he thought, but that was something he was unable to do
because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state
couldn’t get into that position. However hard he threw himself onto his
right, he always rolled back to where he was. He must have tried it a
hundred times, shut his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to look at the
floundering legs, and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull
pain there that he had never felt before.

“Oh, God”, he thought, “what a strenuous career it is that I’ve chosen!
Travelling day in and day out. Doing business like this takes much more
effort than doing your own business at home, and on top of that there’s
the curse of travelling, worries about making train connections, bad
and irregular food, contact with different people all the time so that
you can never get to know anyone or become friendly with them. It can
all go to Hell!” He felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself
slowly up on his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his
head better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with
lots of little white spots which he didn’t know what to make of; and
when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly
back because as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold
shudder.

He slid back into his former position. “Getting up early all the time”,
he thought, “it makes you stupid. You’ve got to get enough sleep. Other
travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. For instance, whenever I go
back to the guest house during the morning to copy out the contract,
these gentlemen are always still sitting there eating their breakfasts.
I ought to just try that with my boss; I’d get kicked out on the spot.
But who knows, maybe that would be the best thing for me. If I didn’t
have my parents to think about I’d have given in my notice a long time
ago, I’d have gone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell
him everything I would, let him know just what I feel. He’d fall right
off his desk! And it’s a funny sort of business to be sitting up there
at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there,
especially when you have to go right up close because the boss is hard
of hearing. Well, there’s still some hope; once I’ve got the money
together to pay off my parents’ debt to him—another five or six years I
suppose—that’s definitely what I’ll do. That’s when I’ll make the big
change. First of all though, I’ve got to get up, my train leaves at
five.”

And he looked over at the alarm clock, ticking on the chest of drawers.
“God in Heaven!” he thought. It was half past six and the hands were
quietly moving forwards, it was even later than half past, more like
quarter to seven. Had the alarm clock not rung? He could see from the
bed that it had been set for four o’clock as it should have been; it
certainly must have rung. Yes, but was it possible to quietly sleep
through that furniture-rattling noise? True, he had not slept
peacefully, but probably all the more deeply because of that. What
should he do now? The next train went at seven; if he were to catch
that he would have to rush like mad and the collection of samples was
still not packed, and he did not at all feel particularly fresh and
lively. And even if he did catch the train he would not avoid his
boss’s anger as the office assistant would have been there to see the
five o’clock train go, he would have put in his report about Gregor’s
not being there a long time ago. The office assistant was the boss’s
man, spineless, and with no understanding. What about if he reported
sick? But that would be extremely strained and suspicious as in five
years of service Gregor had never once yet been ill. His boss would
certainly come round with the doctor from the medical insurance
company, accuse his parents of having a lazy son, and accept the
doctor’s recommendation not to make any claim as the doctor believed
that no-one was ever ill but that many were workshy. And what’s more,
would he have been entirely wrong in this case? Gregor did in fact,
apart from excessive sleepiness after sleeping for so long, feel
completely well and even felt much hungrier than usual.

He was still hurriedly thinking all this through, unable to decide to
get out of the bed, when the clock struck quarter to seven. There was a
cautious knock at the door near his head. “Gregor”, somebody called—it
was his mother—“it’s quarter to seven. Didn’t you want to go
somewhere?” That gentle voice! Gregor was shocked when he heard his own
voice answering, it could hardly be recognised as the voice he had had
before. As if from deep inside him, there was a painful and
uncontrollable squeaking mixed in with it, the words could be made out
at first but then there was a sort of echo which made them unclear,
leaving the hearer unsure whether he had heard properly or not. Gregor
had wanted to give a full answer and explain everything, but in the
circumstances contented himself with saying: “Yes, mother, yes,
thank-you, I’m getting up now.” The change in Gregor’s voice probably
could not be noticed outside through the wooden door, as his mother was
satisfied with this explanation and shuffled away. But this short
conversation made the other members of the family aware that Gregor,
against their expectations was still at home, and soon his father came
knocking at one of the side doors, gently, but with his fist. “Gregor,
Gregor”, he called, “what’s wrong?” And after a short while he called
again with a warning deepness in his voice: “Gregor! Gregor!” At the
other side door his sister came plaintively: “Gregor? Aren’t you well?
Do you need anything?” Gregor answered to both sides: “I’m ready, now”,
making an effort to remove all the strangeness from his voice by
enunciating very carefully and putting long pauses between each,
individual word. His father went back to his breakfast, but his sister
whispered: “Gregor, open the door, I beg of you.” Gregor, however, had
no thought of opening the door, and instead congratulated himself for
his cautious habit, acquired from his travelling, of locking all doors
at night even when he was at home.

The first thing he wanted to do was to get up in peace without being
disturbed, to get dressed, and most of all to have his breakfast. Only
then would he consider what to do next, as he was well aware that he
would not bring his thoughts to any sensible conclusions by lying in
bed. He remembered that he had often felt a slight pain in bed, perhaps
caused by lying awkwardly, but that had always turned out to be pure
imagination and he wondered how his imaginings would slowly resolve
themselves today. He did not have the slightest doubt that the change
in his voice was nothing more than the first sign of a serious cold,
which was an occupational hazard for travelling salesmen.

It was a simple matter to throw off the covers; he only had to blow
himself up a little and they fell off by themselves. But it became
difficult after that, especially as he was so exceptionally broad. He
would have used his arms and his hands to push himself up; but instead
of them he only had all those little legs continuously moving in
different directions, and which he was moreover unable to control. If
he wanted to bend one of them, then that was the first one that would
stretch itself out; and if he finally managed to do what he wanted with
that leg, all the others seemed to be set free and would move about
painfully. “This is something that can’t be done in bed”, Gregor said
to himself, “so don’t keep trying to do it”.

The first thing he wanted to do was get the lower part of his body out
of the bed, but he had never seen this lower part, and could not
imagine what it looked like; it turned out to be too hard to move; it
went so slowly; and finally, almost in a frenzy, when he carelessly
shoved himself forwards with all the force he could gather, he chose
the wrong direction, hit hard against the lower bedpost, and learned
from the burning pain he felt that the lower part of his body might
well, at present, be the most sensitive.

So then he tried to get the top part of his body out of the bed first,
carefully turning his head to the side. This he managed quite easily,
and despite its breadth and its weight, the bulk of his body eventually
followed slowly in the direction of the head. But when he had at last
got his head out of the bed and into the fresh air it occurred to him
that if he let himself fall it would be a miracle if his head were not
injured, so he became afraid to carry on pushing himself forward the
same way. And he could not knock himself out now at any price; better
to stay in bed than lose consciousness.

It took just as much effort to get back to where he had been earlier,
but when he lay there sighing, and was once more watching his legs as
they struggled against each other even harder than before, if that was
possible, he could think of no way of bringing peace and order to this
chaos. He told himself once more that it was not possible for him to
stay in bed and that the most sensible thing to do would be to get free
of it in whatever way he could at whatever sacrifice. At the same time,
though, he did not forget to remind himself that calm consideration was
much better than rushing to desperate conclusions. At times like this
he would direct his eyes to the window and look out as clearly as he
could, but unfortunately, even the other side of the narrow street was
enveloped in morning fog and the view had little confidence or cheer to
offer him. “Seven o’clock, already”, he said to himself when the clock
struck again, “seven o’clock, and there’s still a fog like this.” And
he lay there quietly a while longer, breathing lightly as if he perhaps
expected the total stillness to bring things back to their real and
natural state.

But then he said to himself: “Before it strikes quarter past seven I’ll
definitely have to have got properly out of bed. And by then somebody
will have come round from work to ask what’s happened to me as well, as
they open up at work before seven o’clock.” And so he set himself to
the task of swinging the entire length of his body out of the bed all
at the same time. If he succeeded in falling out of bed in this way and
kept his head raised as he did so he could probably avoid injuring it.
His back seemed to be quite hard, and probably nothing would happen to
it falling onto the carpet. His main concern was for the loud noise he
was bound to make, and which even through all the doors would probably
raise concern if not alarm. But it was something that had to be risked.

When Gregor was already sticking half way out of the bed—the new method
was more of a game than an effort, all he had to do was rock back and
forth—it occurred to him how simple everything would be if somebody
came to help him. Two strong people—he had his father and the maid in
mind—would have been more than enough; they would only have to push
their arms under the dome of his back, peel him away from the bed, bend
down with the load and then be patient and careful as he swang over
onto the floor, where, hopefully, the little legs would find a use.
Should he really call for help though, even apart from the fact that
all the doors were locked? Despite all the difficulty he was in, he
could not suppress a smile at this thought.

After a while he had already moved so far across that it would have
been hard for him to keep his balance if he rocked too hard. The time
was now ten past seven and he would have to make a final decision very
soon. Then there was a ring at the door of the flat. “That’ll be
someone from work”, he said to himself, and froze very still, although
his little legs only became all the more lively as they danced around.
For a moment everything remained quiet. “They’re not opening the door”,
Gregor said to himself, caught in some nonsensical hope. But then of
course, the maid’s firm steps went to the door as ever and opened it.
Gregor only needed to hear the visitor’s first words of greeting and he
knew who it was—the chief clerk himself. Why did Gregor have to be the
only one condemned to work for a company where they immediately became
highly suspicious at the slightest shortcoming? Were all employees,
every one of them, louts, was there not one of them who was faithful
and devoted who would go so mad with pangs of conscience that he
couldn’t get out of bed if he didn’t spend at least a couple of hours
in the morning on company business? Was it really not enough to let one
of the trainees make enquiries—assuming enquiries were even
necessary—did the chief clerk have to come himself, and did they have
to show the whole, innocent family that this was so suspicious that
only the chief clerk could be trusted to have the wisdom to investigate
it? And more because these thoughts had made him upset than through any
proper decision, he swang himself with all his force out of the bed.
There was a loud thump, but it wasn’t really a loud noise. His fall was
softened a little by the carpet, and Gregor’s back was also more
elastic than he had thought, which made the sound muffled and not too
noticeable. He had not held his head carefully enough, though, and hit
it as he fell; annoyed and in pain, he turned it and rubbed it against
the carpet.

“Something’s fallen down in there”, said the chief clerk in the room on
the left. Gregor tried to imagine whether something of the sort that
had happened to him today could ever happen to the chief clerk too; you
had to concede that it was possible. But as if in gruff reply to this
question, the chief clerk’s firm footsteps in his highly polished boots
could now be heard in the adjoining room. From the room on his right,
Gregor’s sister whispered to him to let him know: “Gregor, the chief
clerk is here.” “Yes, I know”, said Gregor to himself; but without
daring to raise his voice loud enough for his sister to hear him.

“Gregor”, said his father now from the room to his left, “the chief
clerk has come round and wants to know why you didn’t leave on the
early train. We don’t know what to say to him. And anyway, he wants to
speak to you personally. So please open up this door. I’m sure he’ll be
good enough to forgive the untidiness of your room.” Then the chief
clerk called “Good morning, Mr. Samsa”. “He isn’t well”, said his
mother to the chief clerk, while his father continued to speak through
the door. “He isn’t well, please believe me. Why else would Gregor have
missed a train! The lad only ever thinks about the business. It nearly
makes me cross the way he never goes out in the evenings; he’s been in
town for a week now but stayed home every evening. He sits with us in
the kitchen and just reads the paper or studies train timetables. His
idea of relaxation is working with his fretsaw. He’s made a little
frame, for instance, it only took him two or three evenings, you’ll be
amazed how nice it is; it’s hanging up in his room; you’ll see it as
soon as Gregor opens the door. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here; we
wouldn’t have been able to get Gregor to open the door by ourselves;
he’s so stubborn; and I’m sure he isn’t well, he said this morning that
he is, but he isn’t.” “I’ll be there in a moment”, said Gregor slowly
and thoughtfully, but without moving so that he would not miss any word
of the conversation. “Well I can’t think of any other way of explaining
it, Mrs. Samsa”, said the chief clerk, “I hope it’s nothing serious.
But on the other hand, I must say that if we people in commerce ever
become slightly unwell then, fortunately or unfortunately as you like,
we simply have to overcome it because of business considerations.” “Can
the chief clerk come in to see you now then?”, asked his father
impatiently, knocking at the door again. “No”, said Gregor. In the room
on his right there followed a painful silence; in the room on his left
his sister began to cry.

So why did his sister not go and join the others? She had probably only
just got up and had not even begun to get dressed. And why was she
crying? Was it because he had not got up, and had not let the chief
clerk in, because he was in danger of losing his job and if that
happened his boss would once more pursue their parents with the same
demands as before? There was no need to worry about things like that
yet. Gregor was still there and had not the slightest intention of
abandoning his family. For the time being he just lay there on the
carpet, and no-one who knew the condition he was in would seriously
have expected him to let the chief clerk in. It was only a minor
discourtesy, and a suitable excuse could easily be found for it later
on, it was not something for which Gregor could be sacked on the spot.
And it seemed to Gregor much more sensible to leave him now in peace
instead of disturbing him with talking at him and crying. But the
others didn’t know what was happening, they were worried, that would
excuse their behaviour.

The chief clerk now raised his voice, “Mr. Samsa”, he called to him,
“what is wrong? You barricade yourself in your room, give us no more
than yes or no for an answer, you are causing serious and unnecessary
concern to your parents and you fail—and I mention this just by the
way—you fail to carry out your business duties in a way that is quite
unheard of. I’m speaking here on behalf of your parents and of your
employer, and really must request a clear and immediate explanation. I
am astonished, quite astonished. I thought I knew you as a calm and
sensible person, and now you suddenly seem to be showing off with
peculiar whims. This morning, your employer did suggest a possible
reason for your failure to appear, it’s true—it had to do with the
money that was recently entrusted to you—but I came near to giving him
my word of honour that that could not be the right explanation. But now
that I see your incomprehensible stubbornness I no longer feel any wish
whatsoever to intercede on your behalf. And nor is your position all
that secure. I had originally intended to say all this to you in
private, but since you cause me to waste my time here for no good
reason I don’t see why your parents should not also learn of it. Your
turnover has been very unsatisfactory of late; I grant you that it’s
not the time of year to do especially good business, we recognise that;
but there simply is no time of year to do no business at all, Mr.
Samsa, we cannot allow there to be.”

“But Sir”, called Gregor, beside himself and forgetting all else in the
excitement, “I’ll open up immediately, just a moment. I’m slightly
unwell, an attack of dizziness, I haven’t been able to get up. I’m
still in bed now. I’m quite fresh again now, though. I’m just getting
out of bed. Just a moment. Be patient! It’s not quite as easy as I’d
thought. I’m quite alright now, though. It’s shocking, what can
suddenly happen to a person! I was quite alright last night, my parents
know about it, perhaps better than me, I had a small symptom of it last
night already. They must have noticed it. I don’t know why I didn’t let
you know at work! But you always think you can get over an illness
without staying at home. Please, don’t make my parents suffer! There’s
no basis for any of the accusations you’re making; nobody’s ever said a
word to me about any of these things. Maybe you haven’t read the latest
contracts I sent in. I’ll set off with the eight o’clock train, as
well, these few hours of rest have given me strength. You don’t need to
wait, sir; I’ll be in the office soon after you, and please be so good
as to tell that to the boss and recommend me to him!”

And while Gregor gushed out these words, hardly knowing what he was
saying, he made his way over to the chest of drawers—this was easily
done, probably because of the practise he had already had in bed—where
he now tried to get himself upright. He really did want to open the
door, really did want to let them see him and to speak with the chief
clerk; the others were being so insistent, and he was curious to learn
what they would say when they caught sight of him. If they were shocked
then it would no longer be Gregor’s responsibility and he could rest.
If, however, they took everything calmly he would still have no reason
to be upset, and if he hurried he really could be at the station for
eight o’clock. The first few times he tried to climb up on the smooth
chest of drawers he just slid down again, but he finally gave himself
one last swing and stood there upright; the lower part of his body was
in serious pain but he no longer gave any attention to it. Now he let
himself fall against the back of a nearby chair and held tightly to the
edges of it with his little legs. By now he had also calmed down, and
kept quiet so that he could listen to what the chief clerk was saying.

“Did you understand a word of all that?” the chief clerk asked his
parents, “surely he’s not trying to make fools of us”. “Oh, God!”
called his mother, who was already in tears, “he could be seriously ill
and we’re making him suffer. Grete! Grete!” she then cried. “Mother?”
his sister called from the other side. They communicated across
Gregor’s room. “You’ll have to go for the doctor straight away. Gregor
is ill. Quick, get the doctor. Did you hear the way Gregor spoke just
now?” “That was the voice of an animal”, said the chief clerk, with a
calmness that was in contrast with his mother’s screams. “Anna! Anna!”
his father called into the kitchen through the entrance hall, clapping
his hands, “get a locksmith here, now!” And the two girls, their skirts
swishing, immediately ran out through the hall, wrenching open the
front door of the flat as they went. How had his sister managed to get
dressed so quickly? There was no sound of the door banging shut again;
they must have left it open; people often do in homes where something
awful has happened.

Gregor, in contrast, had become much calmer. So they couldn’t
understand his words any more, although they seemed clear enough to
him, clearer than before—perhaps his ears had become used to the sound.
They had realised, though, that there was something wrong with him, and
were ready to help. The first response to his situation had been
confident and wise, and that made him feel better. He felt that he had
been drawn back in among people, and from the doctor and the locksmith
he expected great and surprising achievements—although he did not
really distinguish one from the other. Whatever was said next would be
crucial, so, in order to make his voice as clear as possible, he
coughed a little, but taking care to do this not too loudly as even
this might well sound different from the way that a human coughs and he
was no longer sure he could judge this for himself. Meanwhile, it had
become very quiet in the next room. Perhaps his parents were sat at the
table whispering with the chief clerk, or perhaps they were all pressed
against the door and listening.

Gregor slowly pushed his way over to the door with the chair. Once
there he let go of it and threw himself onto the door, holding himself
upright against it using the adhesive on the tips of his legs. He
rested there a little while to recover from the effort involved and
then set himself to the task of turning the key in the lock with his
mouth. He seemed, unfortunately, to have no proper teeth—how was he,
then, to grasp the key?—but the lack of teeth was, of course, made up
for with a very strong jaw; using the jaw, he really was able to start
the key turning, ignoring the fact that he must have been causing some
kind of damage as a brown fluid came from his mouth, flowed over the
key and dripped onto the floor. “Listen”, said the chief clerk in the
next room, “he’s turning the key.” Gregor was greatly encouraged by
this; but they all should have been calling to him, his father and his
mother too: “Well done, Gregor”, they should have cried, “keep at it,
keep hold of the lock!” And with the idea that they were all excitedly
following his efforts, he bit on the key with all his strength, paying
no attention to the pain he was causing himself. As the key turned
round he turned around the lock with it, only holding himself upright
with his mouth, and hung onto the key or pushed it down again with the
whole weight of his body as needed. The clear sound of the lock as it
snapped back was Gregor’s sign that he could break his concentration,
and as he regained his breath he said to himself: “So, I didn’t need
the locksmith after all”. Then he lay his head on the handle of the
door to open it completely.

Because he had to open the door in this way, it was already wide open
before he could be seen. He had first to slowly turn himself around one
of the double doors, and he had to do it very carefully if he did not
want to fall flat on his back before entering the room. He was still
occupied with this difficult movement, unable to pay attention to
anything else, when he heard the chief clerk exclaim a loud “Oh!”,
which sounded like the soughing of the wind. Now he also saw him—he was
the nearest to the door—his hand pressed against his open mouth and
slowly retreating as if driven by a steady and invisible force.
Gregor’s mother, her hair still dishevelled from bed despite the chief
clerk’s being there, looked at his father. Then she unfolded her arms,
took two steps forward towards Gregor and sank down onto the floor into
her skirts that spread themselves out around her as her head
disappeared down onto her breast. His father looked hostile, and
clenched his fists as if wanting to knock Gregor back into his room.
Then he looked uncertainly round the living room, covered his eyes with
his hands and wept so that his powerful chest shook.

So Gregor did not go into the room, but leant against the inside of the
other door which was still held bolted in place. In this way only half
of his body could be seen, along with his head above it which he leant
over to one side as he peered out at the others. Meanwhile the day had
become much lighter; part of the endless, grey-black building on the
other side of the street—which was a hospital—could be seen quite
clearly with the austere and regular line of windows piercing its
façade; the rain was still falling, now throwing down large, individual
droplets which hit the ground one at a time. The washing up from
breakfast lay on the table; there was so much of it because, for
Gregor’s father, breakfast was the most important meal of the day and
he would stretch it out for several hours as he sat reading a number of
different newspapers. On the wall exactly opposite there was photograph
of Gregor when he was a lieutenant in the army, his sword in his hand
and a carefree smile on his face as he called forth respect for his
uniform and bearing. The door to the entrance hall was open and as the
front door of the flat was also open he could see onto the landing and
the stairs where they began their way down below.

“Now, then”, said Gregor, well aware that he was the only one to have
kept calm, “I’ll get dressed straight away now, pack up my samples and
set off. Will you please just let me leave? You can see”, he said to
the chief clerk, “that I’m not stubborn and I like to do my job; being
a commercial traveller is arduous but without travelling I couldn’t
earn my living. So where are you going, in to the office? Yes? Will you
report everything accurately, then? It’s quite possible for someone to
be temporarily unable to work, but that’s just the right time to
remember what’s been achieved in the past and consider that later on,
once the difficulty has been removed, he will certainly work with all
the more diligence and concentration. You’re well aware that I’m
seriously in debt to our employer as well as having to look after my
parents and my sister, so that I’m trapped in a difficult situation,
but I will work my way out of it again. Please don’t make things any
harder for me than they are already, and don’t take sides against me at
the office. I know that nobody likes the travellers. They think we earn
an enormous wage as well as having a soft time of it. That’s just
prejudice but they have no particular reason to think better of it. But
you, sir, you have a better overview than the rest of the staff, in
fact, if I can say this in confidence, a better overview than the boss
himself—it’s very easy for a businessman like him to make mistakes
about his employees and judge them more harshly than he should. And
you’re also well aware that we travellers spend almost the whole year
away from the office, so that we can very easily fall victim to gossip
and chance and groundless complaints, and it’s almost impossible to
defend yourself from that sort of thing, we don’t usually even hear
about them, or if at all it’s when we arrive back home exhausted from a
trip, and that’s when we feel the harmful effects of what’s been going
on without even knowing what caused them. Please, don’t go away, at
least first say something to show that you grant that I’m at least
partly right!”

But the chief clerk had turned away as soon as Gregor had started to
speak, and, with protruding lips, only stared back at him over his
trembling shoulders as he left. He did not keep still for a moment
while Gregor was speaking, but moved steadily towards the door without
taking his eyes off him. He moved very gradually, as if there had been
some secret prohibition on leaving the room. It was only when he had
reached the entrance hall that he made a sudden movement, drew his foot
from the living room, and rushed forward in a panic. In the hall, he
stretched his right hand far out towards the stairway as if out there,
there were some supernatural force waiting to save him.

Gregor realised that it was out of the question to let the chief clerk
go away in this mood if his position in the firm was not to be put into
extreme danger. That was something his parents did not understand very
well; over the years, they had become convinced that this job would
provide for Gregor for his entire life, and besides, they had so much
to worry about at present that they had lost sight of any thought for
the future. Gregor, though, did think about the future. The chief clerk
had to be held back, calmed down, convinced and finally won over; the
future of Gregor and his family depended on it! If only his sister were
here! She was clever; she was already in tears while Gregor was still
lying peacefully on his back. And the chief clerk was a lover of women,
surely she could persuade him; she would close the front door in the
entrance hall and talk him out of his shocked state. But his sister was
not there, Gregor would have to do the job himself. And without
considering that he still was not familiar with how well he could move
about in his present state, or that his speech still might not—or
probably would not—be understood, he let go of the door; pushed himself
through the opening; tried to reach the chief clerk on the landing who,
ridiculously, was holding on to the banister with both hands; but
Gregor fell immediately over and, with a little scream as he sought
something to hold onto, landed on his numerous little legs. Hardly had
that happened than, for the first time that day, he began to feel
alright with his body; the little legs had the solid ground under them;
to his pleasure, they did exactly as he told them; they were even
making the effort to carry him where he wanted to go; and he was soon
believing that all his sorrows would soon be finally at an end. He held
back the urge to move but swayed from side to side as he crouched there
on the floor. His mother was not far away in front of him and seemed,
at first, quite engrossed in herself, but then she suddenly jumped up
with her arms outstretched and her fingers spread shouting: “Help, for
pity’s sake, Help!” The way she held her head suggested she wanted to
see Gregor better, but the unthinking way she was hurrying backwards
showed that she did not; she had forgotten that the table was behind
her with all the breakfast things on it; when she reached the table she
sat quickly down on it without knowing what she was doing; without even
seeming to notice that the coffee pot had been knocked over and a gush
of coffee was pouring down onto the carpet.

“Mother, mother”, said Gregor gently, looking up at her. He had
completely forgotten the chief clerk for the moment, but could not help
himself snapping in the air with his jaws at the sight of the flow of
coffee. That set his mother screaming anew, she fled from the table and
into the arms of his father as he rushed towards her. Gregor, though,
had no time to spare for his parents now; the chief clerk had already
reached the stairs; with his chin on the banister, he looked back for
the last time. Gregor made a run for him; he wanted to be sure of
reaching him; the chief clerk must have expected something, as he leapt
down several steps at once and disappeared; his shouts resounding all
around the staircase. The flight of the chief clerk seemed,
unfortunately, to put Gregor’s father into a panic as well. Until then
he had been relatively self controlled, but now, instead of running
after the chief clerk himself, or at least not impeding Gregor as he
ran after him, Gregor’s father seized the chief clerk’s stick in his
right hand (the chief clerk had left it behind on a chair, along with
his hat and overcoat), picked up a large newspaper from the table with
his left, and used them to drive Gregor back into his room, stamping
his foot at him as he went. Gregor’s appeals to his father were of no
help, his appeals were simply not understood, however much he humbly
turned his head his father merely stamped his foot all the harder.
Across the room, despite the chilly weather, Gregor’s mother had pulled
open a window, leant far out of it and pressed her hands to her face. A
strong draught of air flew in from the street towards the stairway, the
curtains flew up, the newspapers on the table fluttered and some of
them were blown onto the floor. Nothing would stop Gregor’s father as
he drove him back, making hissing noises at him like a wild man. Gregor
had never had any practice in moving backwards and was only able to go
very slowly. If Gregor had only been allowed to turn round he would
have been back in his room straight away, but he was afraid that if he
took the time to do that his father would become impatient, and there
was the threat of a lethal blow to his back or head from the stick in
his father’s hand any moment. Eventually, though, Gregor realised that
he had no choice as he saw, to his disgust, that he was quite incapable
of going backwards in a straight line; so he began, as quickly as
possible and with frequent anxious glances at his father, to turn
himself round. It went very slowly, but perhaps his father was able to
see his good intentions as he did nothing to hinder him, in fact now
and then he used the tip of his stick to give directions from a
distance as to which way to turn. If only his father would stop that
unbearable hissing! It was making Gregor quite confused. When he had
nearly finished turning round, still listening to that hissing, he made
a mistake and turned himself back a little the way he had just come. He
was pleased when he finally had his head in front of the doorway, but
then saw that it was too narrow, and his body was too broad to get
through it without further difficulty. In his present mood, it
obviously did not occur to his father to open the other of the double
doors so that Gregor would have enough space to get through. He was
merely fixed on the idea that Gregor should be got back into his room
as quickly as possible. Nor would he ever have allowed Gregor the time
to get himself upright as preparation for getting through the doorway.
What he did, making more noise than ever, was to drive Gregor forwards
all the harder as if there had been nothing in the way; it sounded to
Gregor as if there was now more than one father behind him; it was not
a pleasant experience, and Gregor pushed himself into the doorway
without regard for what might happen. One side of his body lifted
itself, he lay at an angle in the doorway, one flank scraped on the
white door and was painfully injured, leaving vile brown flecks on it,
soon he was stuck fast and would not have been able to move at all by
himself, the little legs along one side hung quivering in the air while
those on the other side were pressed painfully against the ground. Then
his father gave him a hefty shove from behind which released him from
where he was held and sent him flying, and heavily bleeding, deep into
his room. The door was slammed shut with the stick, then, finally, all
was quiet.