The Metamorphosis Analysis: First Two Paragraphs

The first sentence sets the tone for the entirety of the novella with its frankness, dry humor, and strangeness. Suspense is also built within the first sentence and is then relieved with the purpose of the sentence revealed at the end: that Gregor has transformed into an enormous bug. The remainder of the paragraph serves to contribute to the subtle humor of the introduction by describing the uncomfortable, awkward situation in which Gregor finds himself. He is not merely an insect with a shell and legs, but a creature with a brown belly “on top of which the blanket, ready to slip off altogether, was just barely perched” and fruitlessly flickering legs. The imagery provided here is vivid and comical—one pictures an upended bug struggling confusedly, knowing that a man’s thoughts reside within. The description of this passage also emphasizes Gregor’s helplessness. His legs are “pitifully thin” while he is stuck lying on his back.

The brevity of Gregor’s first aloud statement serves as a stark contrast to the breathy syntax and unusual events occurring in the first few sentences. He asks what has happened to him, revealing no semblance of shock as one might expect. This first reveals an essence of Gregor’s character—he is a man who is not excitable in the least, who is measured and mellow. The second paragraph proceeds to describe Gregor’s bedroom, mentioning in detail the swatches strewn on the table and a hung picture but only very briefly and in an off-hand way that he is a traveling salesman. This hints at the monotony or plainness of Gregor’s work without commenting on the nature of it whatsoever. Lastly, in the end of the second paragraph, a picture which Gregor has framed is described. It is a woman in furs, the sole image on the walls—implying both a sexual perversion and idolization which makes the reader suspicious of Gregor’s normalcy. 

"Elegy on a Toy Piano" by Dean Young

By happenstance I stumbled across a poem called “Elegy on Toy Piano” and was superficially drawn first and foremost to the promise in the title of a piano. I am familiar with pianos and find my own poetry within them, and my intrigue was sparked. I read the poem, quickly, and was struck—not by the lack of relevance to what I had anticipated but to the depth and beauty in the simple words, crafted beautifully with powerful imagery. I was also struck upon first glance by the resemblance of the poem to my own style. Like my own, the style of the poem is one of clipped descriptions that weave together gradually to develop an idea. Even the syntax and word choice resonated with me because I was familiar with it in my own linguistic mind.

I find I am most attracted to artworks which dance the line between joyous and dark, major and minor, yellow and blue; this poem appealed to me greatly because it, too, weaved itself along this tantalizing line. In own moment, there is a glimmer of hope, and in the very next, melancholy—yet never joy or despair. “The injured gazelle falls behind the  herd. One last wild enjambment.” In this clipped stanza it is shown most clearly, the dance between good and evil. An injured gazelle falls, presumably to his demise, yet his fall is not tragedy by a “last wild enjambment.”

Lastly, the author tinkers with words in a way to make them appealingly bizarre (which, to me, resembles the style of T.S. Eliot). For example, he says, bluntly and unapologetically, “Your head becomes a peach pit.” I do not yet understand the intricacies or even the more basal meanings of this lovely poem, yet I know from the instant tonal and rhetorical appeal that I will love to find out.