Kafka’s Metamorphosis and the Human Condition: The Struggle for Identity

Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis is a text often read in isolation, a tale of a man who wakes up one morning to find himself transformed into a monstrous vermin. Yet beneath the surface, this peculiar narrative holds a profound commentary on the human condition, particularly on the struggle for identity. The story might leave you wondering whether Gregor Samsa’s transformation is a reflection of his own inner turmoil or a manifestation of the absurdity of the human experience. It’s almost as if Kafka, with his peculiar knack for turning the ordinary into the bizarre, is urging us to examine our own lives. Are we, too, crawling around in a society that refuses to understand our true selves? And honestly, after reading The Metamorphosis when I was knee-deep into philosophy at 14, I can’t help but feel like Gregor’s situation, though extreme, mirrors the often unspoken struggle we all experience in our search for identity.

A Transformation Into What? The Self as a Cockroach

Gregor Samsa, waking up to find himself transformed into a "gigantic insect," is confronted with a bizarre yet potent symbol of the self. This grotesque change doesn’t just symbolise physical transformation; it’s the unraveling of his identity. Who is Gregor now? Is he a man trapped in the body of an insect, or an insect with human memories? Kafka’s genius lies in how he uses this metamorphosis to explore the instability of identity in modern life. In a way, I think this is one of the most unsettling elements of The Metamorphosis — the way identity is something so fragile, so easily peeled away.

At first glance, Gregor’s predicament seems ridiculous, perhaps even laughable. Yet, Kafka’s humour: dark, subtle, and at times absurd, carries a deep existential resonance. Imagine waking up one day to discover that you’ve turned into something that no one can recognise, not even yourself. If that’s not the ultimate metaphor for the human experience in a world where we constantly try to align our inner and outer selves, I don’t know what is.

In Kafka’s world, identity is a slippery thing, like trying to catch a fly with chopsticks. Gregor’s inability to communicate in his new form forces him into a position where he must confront who he really is. The people around him, though, remain indifferent, even hostile, to his plight. His family, who once relied on him for their livelihood, grows increasingly repulsed by his appearance. This transformation is less about a literal change and more about the social alienation that we all face at some point. Are we, too, like Gregor, trapped in roles that others impose upon us? Are we ever fully able to escape the expectations of family, society, and self? It’s hard to deny that Kafka’s portrayal of Gregor feels almost painfully familiar. It’s like the more you try to be who you really are, the more the world pushes back against you. It's like trying to show up to a fancy dinner party wearing your highest heels and delicate dresses — you just don’t fit in, no matter how hard you try. And that’s okay.

The Role of Family: Love, Duty, and Dehumanization

Gregor’s family represents the complex tension between love, duty, and dehumanization. At the outset, we are led to believe that Gregor’s dedication to his family is born of genuine love. He works tirelessly to pay off his father’s debts, often sacrificing his own happiness and well-being. His family, in turn, should be grateful, shouldn’t they? Yet, when Gregor turns into a creature of the night, his family’s affection dissipates. The very people who should offer him solace now view him as a burden, an inconvenience — a literal and figurative insect.

The family’s response is not just a reflection of their inability to cope with Gregor’s new form; it’s also an indictment of the transactional nature of familial relationships in modern society. The Samsa family’s shift from reliance to rejection mirrors the social pressures that turn love into something conditional. Gregor’s transformation exposes the underlying fragility of these bonds. What happens to love when the person you depend on can no longer fulfill their role?

Yet, despite this abandonment, Gregor still clings to his desire to serve his family. In one of the more tragicomic moments of the story, he struggles to provide his sister, Grete, with food, dragging himself across the floor like a grotesque insect trying to do what once came naturally, caring for those he loved. There’s something deeply tragic yet oddly humorous in this scene, as it mirrors how many of us continue to give even when we’re met with indifference, or worse, rejection. Perhaps Kafka is playing a cruel joke on us all — reminding us that even when we’re at our lowest, we’re still somehow expected to carry on, regardless of how society sees us. It’s moments like these that make me think about how we sometimes keep trying to fulfil roles we’ve been assigned, even when they’re clearly no longer possible. The absurdity of Gregor crawling around trying to serve his family, despite everything, seems almost too familiar.

The Absurdity of Existence: A World That Does Not Care

In The Metamorphosis, Kafka does not present a world that offers solace or resolution. Gregor’s transformation is not a metaphor for an isolated experience but a reflection of the universal absurdity of existence. The absurd, as Albert Camus would argue, is the tension between our desire for meaning and the indifferent universe that offers none. Gregor’s metamorphosis into an insect can be seen as an absurd act of fate, a random twist of the cosmic wheel that bears no deeper purpose. In this sense, Kafka is tapping into an existential theme that’s far from funny. However, his subtle use of humour through absurdity, irony, and the strange, turns this grimness into something that’s eerily relatable. The humour lies not in the transformation itself, but in the way Gregor’s family and society respond to it.

Imagine, for a moment, being Gregor, waking up as an insect, and not knowing whether to be devastated or simply resigned to the situation. It’s a situation so ludicrous it almost demands laughter, if only to cover up the uncomfortable reality of how little control we have over our own fates. It’s like being trapped in a joke you didn’t tell, but you’re still expected to laugh at. Kafka’s absurdity forces us to face the fact that life is often random and cruel, but it also reminds us that we might find solace in laughter. After all, what else is there to do when confronted with a world that seems to care so little about our existence?

Franz Kafka (Source: Unknown)

From my perspective, Kafka’s exploration of absurdity resonates deeply because of how much we see this in our everyday lives. It's like when you try your best at something, but it all falls apart in the most ridiculous way. Kafka is brutally honest in his portrayal of a world that doesn’t hand us explanations, leaving us with absurdity. But maybe that’s where the humour lies — not in the joke itself, but in how we choose to react to the randomness of life. The struggle is real, yes, but so is the possibility of finding humour in the chaos.

The Role of Work: The Death of the Self in Capitalism

Gregor’s transformation also serves as a stark critique of modern capitalism. Prior to his metamorphosis, Gregor was the breadwinner of the family, enslaved by his job as a traveling salesman. He was, as Kafka would have it, a cog in the machine: unseen, unappreciated, and ultimately disposable. When Gregor is unable to go to work due to his new physical form, his employer sends a representative to check on him, and the result is a cruel reflection of how society views individuals as nothing more than workers. Gregor is of no value to the world unless he can produce, unless he can work.

Kafka’s portrayal of work as the primary means of self-worth is a biting critique of how modern societies value individuals. It’s no accident that Gregor’s transformation into an insect makes him physically incapable of fulfilling his role. The same society that demands productivity does not care for the well-being of its workers. Gregor’s collapse into alienation, both physically and emotionally, mirrors the dehumanising effects of a capitalist system that exploits workers and reduces them to their labor value.

Yet, even in this situation, Gregor’s desire to fulfil his role persists. The story’s dark humour shines here as we watch Gregor, an insect, desperately attempt to communicate with his employer, hoping to maintain his position. This desperate hope to retain his place in a system that no longer sees him as human is absurd, but it’s also deeply tragic. It’s the kind of irony that only Kafka could orchestrate so perfectly — there’s a sting to it, but it’s one we can all relate to. How often do we continue to strive for acceptance, even when we know that the system is fundamentally flawed and indifferent to us? I find myself thinking about how many of us, myself included, continue to try and meet expectations even when we know they aren’t designed to benefit us. The absurdity is in how deeply ingrained the need to “fit in" becomes, even if it means sacrificing our true selves in the process.

In Search of the Self in an Indifferent World

Kafka’s The Metamorphosis is not just a story about a man who turns into an insect; it is a story about identity, alienation, and the absurdity of existence. Gregor Samsa’s transformation forces us to confront the fragility of our sense of self in a world that is often indifferent to our struggles. The story’s dark humour reminds us that, despite the overwhelming absurdity of life, we can still find moments of recognition, moments that resonate deeply within us. Kafka’s message is clear: the struggle for identity is real, and it is not something that can be easily defined or understood.

In the end, Gregor’s tragic fate is both a reflection of his inability to connect with others and an existential statement on the isolation we all feel at some point in our lives. Kafka doesn’t offer us easy answers, but his strange, absurd world offers something even more valuable: the reminder that the search for meaning, no matter how bizarre or futile it may seem, is what makes us human. And perhaps the best we can do in an indifferent world is to laugh at the absurdity of it all. After reading this, I can’t help but wonder: maybe the real metamorphosis we all undergo is not in how we physically change, but in how we learn to cope with the absurdity of life itself.

S xoxo

Written in Geneva, Switzerland

10th March 2025