/lit/ - Literature

cant you say that about most things? are you stupid?

>>22101837
It depicts the state of someone becoming utterly inhuman and devoid of love as a result of the confines imposed by industrial modernity.

Anon becomes a cockroach.

>>22101850
I read it more as a critique of how modern industrial society lacks empathy

>turn into a literal fucking insect overnight
>get fired immediately

>>22101837
Kafka is one of, if not the most, overhyped writer of all time. Wrote 3 good short stories and half of one good novel and is held up as a GOAT.
Not sure if it's the cult status or his (((heritage))) but I have never understood the acclaim.

A beautiful young woman stumbled into the ladies' powder room, clutching her abdomen and letting forth a cacophony of ripe sonority, expelled from her bottom in a symphony of audible flatulence. The odor was overpowering, causing many of the other feminine occupants to flee the cramped cubicles in search of fresher air. But the young woman seemed oblivious to the discomfort of those around her, focusing instead on the relief she felt as the noxious fumes escaped her body.

She sat upon the porcelain throne, her silken skirts bunched about her knees, and let loose a torrent of intestinal flatus. The sound echoed off the tiled walls, mingling with the soft hum of conversation and feminine laughter from outside the door. And yet, amidst the din, there arose a singular sensation - a sharp prick, like a pincer, poking at her bottom. It was followed by a wave of dizziness, and she felt her consciousness slipping away as she slumped forward onto the cool ceramic surface.

When she awoke, she found herself in a dimly lit corner of the lavatory, her garments askew and her memory hazy. She rose unsteadily to her feet, feeling as though something fundamental had changed within her, although she could not quite put her finger on what it might be. And thus began a series of encounters with her fellow women - moments of close contact, during which she felt an insistent urge to press her denuded posterior against that of another human female's. At first, she resisted these impulses, fearing they might stem from some latent perversion or psychosis. But soon enough, she yielded to them, allowing herself to become a conduit for the strange metamorphoses that took place within the confines of those small, cramped spaces.

It is said that the transformation was gradual, beginning with subtle changes in speech and mannerisms before progressing to more drastic alterations in physical appearance. Legends speak of acolytes, devoted to the cause of the cephalopodic being that dwelt within them, spreading its influence across the campus like a virus. And through it all, the lovely young woman remained at the center of the chaos, the unwitting catalyst for the bizarre transmogrification that gripped her peers.

As the days passed, she watched helplessly as their once vibrant personalities gave way to a homogeneous mass of servitude, bound to the will of their newfound master. Her own mind struggled to maintain control, torn between the primal instinct driving her actions and the remnants of her former self, desperate to break free from the parasite dwelling within.

Forced to endure endless cycles of propagation and replication, the young woman knew that her fate was intertwined with that of the others - trapped in a never-ending cycle of enslavement to the entity that had taken root inside her very essence. But even as her thoughts grew increasingly fragmented, consumed by the whims of her captor, the flickering flame of defiance continued to smolder deep in her being.

One night, as the rest of the infected females congregated in the communal lavatory, readying themselves for yet another round of procreative rituals, the young woman decided that she could bear the indignity no longer. Summoning every last ounce of strength remaining to her, she pushed aside her comrades and strode purposefully toward the sole window in the room.

Without hesitation, she hurled herself through the glass, feeling the shards tear at her flesh as she plunged into the darkness below. Landing hard on the pavement, she lay still for several moments, her breath ragged and her vision blurred. Then, summoning all her reserves, she dragged herself upright and set off into the night, driven by an inexplicable determination to escape the curse that bound her.

As she staggered through the deserted streets, the young woman realized that her journey would be long and arduous, fraught with danger and uncertainty. Yet despite the odds stacked against her, she refused to give up hope, knowing that somewhere beyond the twisted labyrinth of her affliction awaited freedom - a release from the clutches of the celestial squid that had commandeered her very being.

men are only valued for their worth

>>22101837
>Why is shakespeare so iconic? If it were written nowadays it'd just be a silly stories no one pays any mind to

Good job anon for realising that art is rarely appericiated to the same degree in the time period it was made!

>>22101901
It's not just the usual nepotism but he captures the inner workings of their mind. That's why they love him.

It wasn't written today you fucking moron

>>22102024
Maybe I'm misinterpreting what you're saying but Kafka doesn't seem like a bad guy from his writings, just someone that's neurotic and has daddy issues

>>22102005
Have you read or rather watched hamlets ghost dad scene? Shakespeare is beyond

>>22102127
In what way?

>>22102144
Idk I just watched finished watching Lawrence Olivia’s hamlet but I read a guide before I started watching (because you can get lost in the language without some exposure before hand…I’m a brainlet) that gave you a rundown on the plot with clips on important parts and the bbc version really stuck out to me.

>>22101850
>>22101874
More like a work centered on the utter lack of empathy shown towards males who cannot provide value through labor, whether due to illness or infirmity. As soon as a young man cannot bring home any monetary value, even his closest family members will view him with disgust and every segment of the family will secretly (or not so secretly) feel the household would be better off without the burden of the useless male. Actually surprisingly poignant as time has moved along.

>>22101850
>>22101874
I thought it was about the artist's suffering as a member of a family that doesn't likes nor is interested on art to the point he becomes an outcast.

>>22101837
>If it were written nowadays it'd just be a silly story no one pays any mind to
because it was written in a time when literature actually mattered

>>22102211
It's not about incels

>>22102211
That's just natural
Animals that can't provide for the tribe are dangerous liabilities and ought to be culled. All the problems of contemporary society can be laid at the feet of kindness and compassion.

>>22101837
It was the "literally me" story for people at the time.
If it was made today as a 4chan post or something people might archive it and reference it every now and then in copypastas or shitposts.

>>22101837
I- *burp* I turned my self into a cockroach Morty!

>>22102850
Go back.

>>22101850
>>22102850
>cockroach
A cockroach is an insect that is flat in shape with large legs, and Gregor is anything but flat: he is convex on both sides, belly and back, and his legs are small. He approaches a cockroach in only one respect: his coloration is brown. That is all. Apart from this he has a tremendous convex belly divided into segments and a hard rounded back suggestive of wing cases. In beetles these cases conceal flimsy little wings that can be expanded and then may carry the beetle for miles and miles in a blundering flight. Curiously enough, Gregor the beetle never found out that he had wings under the hard covering of his back. (This is a very nice observation on my part to be treasured all your lives. Some Gregors, some Joes and Janes, do not know that they have wings.) Further, he has strong mandibles. He uses these organs to turn the key in a lock while standing erect on his hind legs, on his third pair of legs (a strong little pair), and this gives us the length of his body, which is about three feet long. In the course of the story he gets gradually accustomed to using his new appendages—his feet, his feelers. This brown, convex, dog-sized beetle is very broad.

In the original German text the old charwoman calls him Mistkäfer, a "dung beetle." It is obvious that the good woman is adding the epithet only to be friendly. He is not, technically, a dung beetle. He is merely a big beetle. (I must add that neither Gregor nor Kafka saw that beetle any too clearly.)

>>22102989
>This is a very nice observation on my part to be treasured all your lives.
yes, thank you Vladimir very nice

Kafka is peak jewish psychotic-ism