What curious creatures we are. We all have our little ways and eccentricities. I'd like to tell you about one of my own. If I have mentioned it before then I apologise in advance. Above is an item I bought on holiday eight years ago in Prague. The little shop is in part of a museum in the old town square and as the lady wrapped it in brown paper I realised I was never going to open it. Why this is I am not sure. A voice somewhere inside said to leave it wrapped. Almost a decade later it sits still housed in the brown paper.
Recently I have been thinking about it. Why on earth would I buy something and not unwrap it? It is in fact one of the few things I have ever bought on holiday to keep long term. Apart from a football shirt, few prints of the Charles Bridge and some prints we bought in Paris I can't think of anything else. So it makes it all the more peculiar that I would never open it.
Maybe I like the mystery of which I have little in my life. Maybe I want to have something personal, again I have few items like that. On pondering I've come to another conclusion. Its because I know what is inside and I have read the story. There is nothing new in there for me. There will be no little jump of excitement on opening it. That is for someone else- and probably disappointment too. Someone, maybe on of my children, will one day find it and open it up to see what it is. The surprise is for them.
So what is in there? Oh the suspense! I did think about playing a little guessing game but won't. For one I can't remember if I've already mentioned it and also the clues are there to make the guessing game very short. From the image its not hard to guess its a book and as I bought it in the Czech capital the chances are it was written by one of her most famous sons. This one is "Die Verwandlung" by Franz Kafka- or "The Metamorphosis" as us English speakers know it. I can't even remember if I bought the English translation- I've always had an urge to buy a foreign book in its native tongue and go through it with a dictionary of that language by my side. This would have been perfect as it is a novella.
For those who don't know Kafka he was an existentialist and this came through in writing by the use of metaphors in his stories. This book is the only one I have read from the author. Its not, in my opinion, great but I liked something about it. Today it resonates.
"One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that in his bed he had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug."*
That is the opening line and it sets the tone quickly. Its also something I think a lot of us can relate to. From there Gregor, who has become some sort of giant cockroach stuck on his back in bed, lives in his room listening to the world carrying on as normal outside. Over time he becomes something forgettable to the rest of his family because he serves no purpose (or no longer fits in to societies view) and his room is only ever entered to use as storage. Then...well I could spend another few paragraphs going over the content.
*The translation for old German varies per translator and there is no straight exchange. This line is taken from the link provided at the end but the bug has been described in many different ways.
