The beauty of this book stems from something I now relate to Kafka i.e. the nonchalant acceptance of something surreal. The story begins with the transformation of an ordinary man into what most translators agree, is a “monstrous vermin” (Kafka wrote one German). However, the subtle messaging of book goes beyond this radical “metamorphosis”. It might has well have been a paralysed member of the family or a breadwinner made invalid by old age. For me, the book captured what we all perhaps know, but refuse to explicitly acknowledge about family and society. You’re worth what you bring to the table, and emotional bonds can only offset this principle barely.
Frankly, the simplicity of what the book sends out as a message, and simultaneously it’s scope for multiple interpretations make for a good read, but not a satisfying one.
Cross-Posted at The Standing Coin