- end_line
- 1587
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-28T02:25:26.314Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1545
- text
- in his room and flew up at the slightest movement; he carried threads,
hairs, and remains of food about on his back and sides; he was much too
indifferent to everything now to lay on his back and wipe himself on
the carpet like he had used to do several times a day. And despite this
condition, he was not too shy to move forward a little onto the
immaculate floor of the living room.
No-one noticed him, though. The family was totally preoccupied with the
violin playing; at first, the three gentlemen had put their hands in
their pockets and come up far too close behind the music stand to look
at all the notes being played, and they must have disturbed Gregor’s
sister, but soon, in contrast with the family, they withdrew back to
the window with their heads sunk and talking to each other at half
volume, and they stayed by the window while Gregor’s father observed
them anxiously. It really now seemed very obvious that they had
expected to hear some beautiful or entertaining violin playing but had
been disappointed, that they had had enough of the whole performance
and it was only now out of politeness that they allowed their peace to
be disturbed. It was especially unnerving, the way they all blew the
smoke from their cigarettes upwards from their mouth and noses. Yet
Gregor’s sister was playing so beautifully. Her face was leant to one
side, following the lines of music with a careful and melancholy
expression. Gregor crawled a little further forward, keeping his head
close to the ground so that he could meet her eyes if the chance came.
Was he an animal if music could captivate him so? It seemed to him that
he was being shown the way to the unknown nourishment he had been
yearning for. He was determined to make his way forward to his sister
and tug at her skirt to show her she might come into his room with her
violin, as no-one appreciated her playing here as much as he would. He
never wanted to let her out of his room, not while he lived, anyway;
his shocking appearance should, for once, be of some use to him; he
wanted to be at every door of his room at once to hiss and spit at the
attackers; his sister should not be forced to stay with him, though,
but stay of her own free will; she would sit beside him on the couch
with her ear bent down to him while he told her how he had always
intended to send her to the conservatory, how he would have told
everyone about it last Christmas—had Christmas really come and gone
already?—if this misfortune hadn’t got in the way, and refuse to let
anyone dissuade him from it. On hearing all this, his sister would
break out in tears of emotion, and Gregor would climb up to her
shoulder and kiss her neck, which, since she had been going out to
work, she had kept free without any necklace or collar.
- title
- Chunk 8