In a recent google hole of mine (looking up atheists because why not?), I found myself on atheist-faq.com on their page answering the question “If you think we’re just animals, why not act like it?”. Normally this kind of question would not do anything for me, but with Franz Kafka on the brain, it really got my Spidey senses tingling. Kafka, a self-proclaimed atheist in adolescence, wrote much of his work on absurd tales of protagonists faced with surreal situations, often either animalistic or bureaucratic (Gilman, 31). With this in mind, it is not hard to see why the question might be somewhat relevant to any Kafka-related material. Two of his short stories in particular, The Metamorphosis and A Report to an Academy, exemplify how Kafka might attempt to tackle it, given that the former is essentially about a person turning into an animal and the latter is vice versa.
For context, The Metamorphosis is about a man, Gregor Samsa, who wakes up one morning to find that he has turned into a human-sized, unidentifiable insect. The story goes on to explain how the insect previously known as Gregor, emphasizing his role as the previous financial head of the household, is treated by his family following the change into a useless and horrifying insect. Much of the story is spent on Gregor’s introspective analysis–as he still thinks as Gregor but his body suggests otherwise–which demonstrates how Gregor is in the process of metamorphosis.
On the other hand, A Report to an Academy is about the transformation of an ape named Red Peter into a being that can behave like a human, essentially assimilating into human society. It is delivered as a personal account from Red Peter, given to an unnamed academy as the name suggests. This human/animal dynamic Kafka often wrote about pulls from various sources of inspiration in his life–a lot of it being deeply rooted in anxiety and alienation, his relationships, and some in his interest in Eastern philosophy. By examining these influences, the feelings akin to species dysphoria in The Metamorphosis and A Report to an Academy emphasize Kafka’s belief that the nature of humanity is fickle. He believes people value others for what they readily offer–anything can be a “person” if it can valuably assimilate, and if it cannot, it has no value and cannot be a person.
Kafka had apparently acquired these kinds of cynical beliefs from a young age. He was born in Prague, which was then in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, on July 3, 1883, to a Jewish family, and raised amongst the minority of middle-class intellectual German-speakers. Due to rampant anti-Semitism within the Austro-Hungarian Empire, he and his family were often marginalized and alienated. This isolation would seat itself deeply into Kafka’s work during his career and would manifest in various stories with alienation and assimilation themes, especially The Metamorphosis and A Report to an Academy (Strathern, 15).
Along with this societal alienation, Franz Kafka had what one might call “daddy issues”. His father Hermann was a middle-class man who expected his first son to be much more than what he got with Franz. Franz was born a small guy–he was physically weak and erred on the bookish side–which was a huge disappointment for Hermann. This inadequacy manifested in intense guilt for Franz, which would eventually add to his self-loathing and depression (Strathern, 19). Although perhaps this may not have helped Kafka in the long run, his writing career surprisingly benefited from his often debilitating psychological state. The introspective objectivity he acquired from living through it enabled him to examine his psyche for the parts that may best translate for a wider audience and found the best vehicle for those darker thoughts in animalistic metaphors (Strathern, 20).
Just as angst and depression become identifiable staples in Kafka’s life and work, the more obvious therianthropic (part human, part animal) qualities within his work can be found within his upbringing as well. His own name is an example of the recurring theme, as the Austro-Hungarian Empire had ordered Jews to take Europeanized surnames in the 18th and 19th centuries, and so gave Franz’s ancestors their name: Kafka. Kafka means “bird”, or a more regionally specific, “crow”. Franz was probably often reminded of his name in school, especially because of his dark, bird-like features (Strathern, 22). In any case, Kafka’s name itself is a century-old reflection of the animalistic qualities he attempted to convey and embody, and would later utilize to the fullest extent in his works.
Of course, all information after these base facts has been somewhat influenced by Kafka’s close friendship with a man named Max Brod. Kafka owes basically all of his posthumous popularity to him, who was during their lifetime a much more popular writer, but who held fast to the idea that Kafka was a much more talented writer than he ever was (Strathern, 12). They met at a lecture of Brod’s about how he believed Nietzsche was a “fraud”, which titillated Kafka so much that he could not help but go talk to this guy (Strathern, 7). The two became incredibly close friends, inspiring each other especially in writing, although Kafka’s literary career had never taken off as Brod’s did during his lifetime (Strathern, 30). Kafka pretty much took this as a sign that all of his work was crap, and fell even further into a angsty state of mind, so much so that when he sent his last will to Brod in 1922, he stipulated that he wanted Brod to “burn” all of his work, “preferably unread” (Strathern, 13). Following Kafka’s death in 1924 at 40 to tuberculosis, Brod took on the enormous task of totally disregarding Kafka’s last will and attempting to publish basically everything that Kafka had written, even going so far as to write a biography of his late friend (which is where the world gets much of the original information about Kafka’s life aside from Kafka’s own diary entries) (Strathern, 14). In short, Franz Kafka’s work and posthumous popularity is all thanks to his friend’s inspiration, and inability to stand by and respect a will, thankfully.
Despite his angst, Kafka managed to make a few friends other than Max Brod. One of these friends was 17-year-old Gustav Janouch, who Kafka used as a confidant in the last four years of his life. They would take long walks through Prague, talking about their interests, and so Kafka found in Janouch an amiable companion. Janouch took these conversations rather seriously, even going so far as to publish a book entirely about his recollections and notes of them, entitled Conversations with Kafka, which would convey an incredible first-hand account of Kafka and his thoughts that could possibly only be beaten out by Kafka’s own diary. The book contains various observations about Kafka’s interests and general vibe that paint a very clear picture about who he might have actually been as a person–rather charismatic and friendly, contrary to what one might assume, but also a man easy to retreat into solitude if uncomfortable. The first time they had ever met, Janouch recalls that they had been talking about how light is somewhat disturbing while trying to write. In response, Kafka allegedly says, “Perhaps it distracts from the darkness within. It is good when the light overpowers one. If it were not for horrible sleepless nights, I would never write at all. But they always recall me again to my own dark solitude” (Janouch, 14). This confession, understandably, is a little bit much for Janouch and Kafka’s first meeting, and Janouch ends up admitting that he was glad to leave, but not before thinking about how Kafka truly was the insectoid Gregor Samsa that he had created for The Metamorphosis (Janouch, 14)
Despite the discomfort of their first meeting, their rapport continues, and Kafka indulges in confessing inspirations for his work. Among these fascinations, Kafka admits, is Taoism–a loosely-defined Chinese philosophy that focuses on the natural world and the human place within it and is based on the writings of Lao-Tzu in books like the Dao Te Ching. It advocates accepting yourself and living as is in your nature. This concept was extremely attractive to Kafka, as in one occasion with Janouch he explains the only way to live according to that vein of Eastern philosophy:
There is no route map of the way to truth. The only thing that counts is to make the venture of total dedication. A prescription would already imply a withdrawal, mistrust, and therewith the beginning of a false path. One must accept everything patiently and fearlessly. Man is condemned to life, not to death. One who is afraid should not go into the wood. But we are all in the wood. Everyone in a different way and in a different place. There’s only one thing certain. That is one’s own inadequacy. One must start from that. (Janouch, 156)
This passage is rather telling for Kafka’s character and the values he holds. He believes that people begin and end with themselves–their being is contingent upon their own mentality and ability to examine themselves objectively (a quality he himself had mastered) and build from that to create a person you value within yourself. This concept both influences Kafka’s writing, and can affect how one reads his body of work as a whole in knowing that Kafka instills in all of his characters a sense of critical introspective objectivity. The objectivity within these characters emphasizes their pure nature–what the reader sees is what they get in any given moment in the characters he allows to be seen introspectively.
With these influences in mind, certain themes within The Metamorphosis about the nature of humanity, namely Gregor and his family’s, become paramount to any accurate critical reading of the short story. To reiterate, the story is about Gregor Samsa and his metamorphosis into an insect. The title, The Metamorphosis, perhaps does more than anything in providing an explanation for the focus of the story–Samsa is in the process of a metamorphosis. He has not fully transformed, although his body implies the contrary to his family, and his mind remains that of the human Gregor. The format of the story is dependent upon the fact that his mind has not fully transformed yet, as he makes human thoughts and decisions that are mostly for the benefit of his family in their care for him in his insect state. Through these events, though, the real antagonist of the story arises in Gregor’s family. Prior to his transformation he was the very successful breadwinner of the family yet following his transformation his usefulness has disappeared and his family begins seeing him as a disgusting drain on their resources and mental health. Near the end of the story, his sister has completely given up on him. She says, “He must go…that’s the only solution, Father. You must try to get rid of the idea that this is Gregor. The fact that we’ve believed it for so long is the root of all our trouble” (Kafka, 48). And yet Gregor has tried to make his human sentience known through the whole of the story–his family has merely stopped trying to interpret him as the person that they knew because he has stopped being what he used to be for them: the breadwinner.
Kafka utilizes the relationship between Gregor in all of his forms and his family as an extreme example of his beliefs on the nature of humanity. The family is of an animal pack mentality, following each other in choosing factors that monetarily help them, and eliminating factors that do not. Utilizing animals as a catalyst for revealing the true animalistic qualities within people is a staple within Kafka’s work, and the animal inverse of The Metamorphosis, A Report to an Academy, paints these themes extremely clearly. As Gregor changed into an insect and was reviled by those he felt loved him the most, Red Peter is abused as an ape until he transforms himself into one that can mentally pass as a human. In this sense, A Report to an Academy is the opposite of The Metamorphosis, but it is focused on the necessity to change oneself to both fit in and be free in a human world. In one instance, Red Peter makes his intention known with his transformation and says, “there was no attraction for me in imitating human beings; I imitated them because I needed a way out, and for no other reason” (Kafka, 253). Red Peter has been given a choice, and he chose the closest he could get to freedom–giving up his perceived “animal” self and making himself useful to the human world for his own sake. The real kicker is that humans are none the wiser after Red Peter reaches “the cultural level of an average European” (Kafka, 254). He is easily accepted into society, and in the end has only given an impartial report to an unnamed academy on his mental change.
These facts about the narrative of the stories do not even touch the deliberate facts of the points of view in either story. Kafka, as an objectively introspective man, often makes decisions regarding the point of view that would emphasize the main character’s individual objective view of themselves. The Metamorphosis and A Report to an Academy are no exceptions to this tendency. The Metamorphosis is told through a third person narrator that often focuses exclusively on the thoughts and feelings of Gregor Samsa. On the other hand, A Report to an Academy is told in a first-person point of view by Red Peter. The points of view are different, but they also tend to invite the reader to experience the stories as the main characters feel and think about them. This small detail emphasizes a larger point of Kafka’s that people can and should view themselves in a more objective light–seeing themselves as their nature allows and examining the effects they may have on themselves or others. This point is fairly clear given the facts of Kafka’s mentality while writing his stories.
Small interactions that Kafka slips into his narratives also often add to his intention in revealing a certain strange aspect of humans as void of logic and reason, especially observed in some of their fickler decisions. Throughout the two short stories, he observes the fickle nature of the b-character humans he has included. In The Metamorphosis, this may be seen in the lodgers that Gregor’s family takes in. They engage in their own pack mentality, immediately giving “notice on the spot” to Gregor’s family once the alpha has seen Gregor the insect and has decided to do so (Kafka, 46). In A Report to an Academy, this strange fickleness can be seen when Red Peter is being “trained” by one of the men on the boat. He basically tortures Red Peter with a lit pipe, and then immediately puts out the fire he started as though it is a reward. The small interactions Kafka very lightly mentions are often more outwardly telling than the main character’s interactions. With these b-characters, Kafka has created a world for his stories in which the people are strange and cruel. These characters are often the most “normal” in the story too, given that the main characters have almost always undergone some sort of surreal, supernatural change. Kafka has really made a reflection of the world he knows, thus subliminally criticizing the people of the world and the results of their fickle nature.
The man to animal, animal to man dynamic that Kafka utilizes so often vividly illustrates his need to criticize the nature of mankind. His stories are seemingly just surreal situations in which a protagonist has been rendered almost helpless, attempting to find a way out of the craziness they have found themselves in. Beyond The Basic Kafka narratives that are now described in the English lexicon as “Kafkaesque”, he uses a human/animal dynamic to illustrate how humans and animals are similar. To Kafka, it is a fallacy to believe we are so different, yet humans maintain an exclusivity focused on utility. They reject some aspects of their animalistic nature, while choosing a pack mentality that advocates conformity and use. Kafka emphasizes that both Gregor and Red Peter almost forget their previous selves–and yet this fact illustrates so clearly that humans have forgotten to do an objective check of themselves, forcing those that may be “other” to change themselves to appease the perceived majority that have formed an animalistic pack. Long story short, Kafka was no stranger to the fact that humans are weird and exclusive beings in this world. His goal, in most if not all of his absurd stories, was to really make people think about their place in the world–acknowledging their faults as fickle people in an exclusive society and the faults of the society as a whole. Perhaps this somewhat lofty concept contradicts the often dark and depressing stories he wrote, but it may be worthwhile to note that Kafka struggled with his mental health throughout his life. In this light, he was writing what he knew of the world, but just as he may have been reaching for something better in his mind, he was implying that there could be something better in his stories for others.