was no tragedy—some thought not, and they are not allowed to supper with us fashionable felines. When our first fathers turned from men to animals they doubtless had no notion that their aberration was to be an endless one; they could still see, literally,the crossroads where something could have been taken back, made other than it was. It seemed an easy task to turn back whenever they pleased, and if they did not immediately ring Parliament and demand that a health committee be convened on their behalf and an epidemic declared, it was merely because they fancied it would be pleasant to enjoy a cat’s life for a little while longer; it was not yet a genuine cat’s life, though it had become already intoxicatingly beautiful to them, and so they strayed farther into the streets and discovered the pleasures of hunting and breeding queens and kipper-heads tossed out with as little care as a girl plucking petals. They did not yet know what we can guess at, contemplating the course of all our histories: that change begins in the soul before it appears in ordinary existence, and that, when they began to enjoy a cat’s life, they must already have begun to possess cats’ souls and were by no means so near their starting point as they had once thought, or as their eyes feasting on all kittenish joys might try to persuade them.
“But what has all this to do with Gregor S? I do not try to be mysterious. I see you nodding—you know what I know. What testimony do we need to know: he is a miserable bastard and has no more good instinct than a hound raced half to death. Change begins in the soul, and he must have had a cat’s soul somewhere, a cat’s soul that was being crushed by the attentionsof his ungrateful, brutish family who wish to catch him up in their arms even when he did not wish to be cuddled or coddled at all and squeeze him to death for their own pleasure. And yet he bore it, he bore it all, without a scratch or a hiss or the smallest standing up for his pride, and with as little joy or affect as he shows us now, even though he has a fine coat and a shapely tail and, given time, could have any queen here; he owns no liveliness or vigor. He did violence to his feline self in that apartment, and violence to his soul now—can nothing rouse this man? He shows his throat when no one’s growled at him to do it! I am his prosecutor. In one paw I weigh him and in the other, well, I dare not show the counterweight. He stands accused—”
And Gregor felt great alarm, for he sensed the ending of the proceedings when they had not rightly even begun.
“Of what? Of what am I accused?” he cried piteously.
“He stands accused,” the tabby Josef K went on unperturbed as if he had not spoken. “How do you find him, my fellow Academy members?”
“GUILTY,” came the answering howl, and then all went silent.
IV.
Someone must have been telling lies about Gregor Samsa; he knew he had done nothing wrong.
He purred miserably to himself and gnawed briefly at a scrap of mouse that had been brought for him. “It has all gone so horribly wrong.” He addressed himself only to Franz’s ample, silky backside, which was turned firmly toward him as a kind of jail door. Other cats milled about somewhere beyond his well-padded rump, enervated after the excitement of the trial. “I’m not trying to be a grand orator and arouse your pity; that’s probably more than I’m capable of anyway. I’m sure my defense can speak far better than I can; it is part of the job of a defense in general to do so. And I’m sure I shall have a defense,even though the verdict has already been read. It’s not a trial without a defense. The prosecution came before the accusation, after all. Perhaps this is merely how cats understand the law? All that I want is a public discussion of a public wrong. Listen: Ten days ago I was changed utterly—this whole trial itself is something I laugh about when you put it beside the essential point of my being
“But what has all this to do with Gregor S? I do not try to be mysterious. I see you nodding—you know what I know. What testimony do we need to know: he is a miserable bastard and has no more good instinct than a hound raced half to death. Change begins in the soul, and he must have had a cat’s soul somewhere, a cat’s soul that was being crushed by the attentionsof his ungrateful, brutish family who wish to catch him up in their arms even when he did not wish to be cuddled or coddled at all and squeeze him to death for their own pleasure. And yet he bore it, he bore it all, without a scratch or a hiss or the smallest standing up for his pride, and with as little joy or affect as he shows us now, even though he has a fine coat and a shapely tail and, given time, could have any queen here; he owns no liveliness or vigor. He did violence to his feline self in that apartment, and violence to his soul now—can nothing rouse this man? He shows his throat when no one’s growled at him to do it! I am his prosecutor. In one paw I weigh him and in the other, well, I dare not show the counterweight. He stands accused—”
And Gregor felt great alarm, for he sensed the ending of the proceedings when they had not rightly even begun.
“Of what? Of what am I accused?” he cried piteously.
“He stands accused,” the tabby Josef K went on unperturbed as if he had not spoken. “How do you find him, my fellow Academy members?”
“GUILTY,” came the answering howl, and then all went silent.
IV.
Someone must have been telling lies about Gregor Samsa; he knew he had done nothing wrong.
He purred miserably to himself and gnawed briefly at a scrap of mouse that had been brought for him. “It has all gone so horribly wrong.” He addressed himself only to Franz’s ample, silky backside, which was turned firmly toward him as a kind of jail door. Other cats milled about somewhere beyond his well-padded rump, enervated after the excitement of the trial. “I’m not trying to be a grand orator and arouse your pity; that’s probably more than I’m capable of anyway. I’m sure my defense can speak far better than I can; it is part of the job of a defense in general to do so. And I’m sure I shall have a defense,even though the verdict has already been read. It’s not a trial without a defense. The prosecution came before the accusation, after all. Perhaps this is merely how cats understand the law? All that I want is a public discussion of a public wrong. Listen: Ten days ago I was changed utterly—this whole trial itself is something I laugh about when you put it beside the essential point of my being
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