What Has Happened to Gregor?

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He was lying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes.

What has happened to me? he thought. It was no dream. His room, a regular human bedroom, only rather too small, lay quiet between the four familiar walls.

Above the table on which a collection of cloth samples was unpacked and spread out Samsa was a commercial traveler hung the picture which he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and put into a pretty gilt frame. It showed a lady, with a fur cap on and a fur stole, sitting upright and holding out to the spectator a huge fur muff into which the whole of her forearm had vanished!

. . . .

He slid down again into his former position. This getting up early, he thought, makes one quite stupid. A man needs his sleep. Other commercials live like harem women. For instance, when I come back to the hotel of a morning to write up the orders Ive got, these others are only sitting down to breakfast. Let me just try that with my chief; Id be sacked on the spot. Anyhow, that might be quite a good thing for me, who can tell? If I didnt have to hold my hand because of my parents Id have given notice long ago, Id have gone to the chief and told him exactly what I think of him. That would knock him endways from his desk! Its a queer way of doing, too, this sitting on high at a desk and talking down to employees, especially when they have to come quite near because the chief is hard of hearing. Well, theres still hope; once Ive saved enough money to pay back my parents debts to him that should take another five or six years Ill do it without fail. Ill cut myself completely loose then. For the moment, though, Id better get up, since my train goes at five.

Franz Kafka, from The Metamorphosis (1912)When Gregor Samsa wakes up, he realizes that he

What Has Happened to Gregor?

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He was lying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes.

What has happened to me? he thought. It was no dream. His room, a regular human bedroom, only rather too small, lay quiet between the four familiar walls.

Above the table on which a collection of cloth samples was unpacked and spread out Samsa was a commercial traveler hung the picture which he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and put into a pretty gilt frame. It showed a lady, with a fur cap on and a fur stole, sitting upright and holding out to the spectator a huge fur muff into which the whole of her forearm had vanished!

. . . .

He slid down again into his former position. This getting up early, he thought, makes one quite stupid. A man needs his sleep. Other commercials live like harem women. For instance, when I come back to the hotel of a morning to write up the orders Ive got, these others are only sitting down to breakfast. Let me just try that with my chief; Id be sacked on the spot. Anyhow, that might be quite a good thing for me, who can tell? If I didnt have to hold my hand because of my parents Id have given notice long ago, Id have gone to the chief and told him exactly what I think of him. That would knock him endways from his desk! Its a queer way of doing, too, this sitting on high at a desk and talking down to employees, especially when they have to come quite near because the chief is hard of hearing. Well, theres still hope; once Ive saved enough money to pay back my parents debts to him that should take another five or six years Ill do it without fail. Ill cut myself completely loose then. For the moment, though, Id better get up, since my train goes at five.

Franz Kafka, from The Metamorphosis (1912)

Which of the following best describes Gregors job?

What Has Happened to Gregor?

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He was lying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes.

What has happened to me? he thought. It was no dream. His room, a regular human bedroom, only rather too small, lay quiet between the four familiar walls.

Above the table on which a collection of cloth samples was unpacked and spread out Samsa was a commercial traveler hung the picture which he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and put into a pretty gilt frame. It showed a lady, with a fur cap on and a fur stole, sitting upright and holding out to the spectator a huge fur muff into which the whole of her forearm had vanished!

. . . .

He slid down again into his former position. This getting up early, he thought, makes one quite stupid. A man needs his sleep. Other commercials live like harem women. For instance, when I come back to the hotel of a morning to write up the orders Ive got, these others are only sitting down to breakfast. Let me just try that with my chief; Id be sacked on the spot. Anyhow, that might be quite a good thing for me, who can tell? If I didnt have to hold my hand because of my parents Id have given notice long ago, Id have gone to the chief and told him exactly what I think of him. That would knock him endways from his desk! Its a queer way of doing, too, this sitting on high at a desk and talking down to employees, especially when they have to come quite near because the chief is hard of hearing. Well, theres still hope; once Ive saved enough money to pay back my parents debts to him that should take another five or six years Ill do it without fail. Ill cut myself completely loose then. For the moment, though, Id better get up, since my train goes at five.

Franz Kafka, from The Metamorphosis (1912)

Why must Gregor keep his current job for several more years?

What Has Happened to Gregor?

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He was lying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes.

What has happened to me? he thought. It was no dream. His room, a regular human bedroom, only rather too small, lay quiet between the four familiar walls.

Above the table on which a collection of cloth samples was unpacked and spread out Samsa was a commercial traveler hung the picture which he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and put into a pretty gilt frame. It showed a lady, with a fur cap on and a fur stole, sitting upright and holding out to the spectator a huge fur muff into which the whole of her forearm had vanished!

. . . .

He slid down again into his former position. This getting up early, he thought, makes one quite stupid. A man needs his sleep. Other commercials live like harem women. For instance, when I come back to the hotel of a morning to write up the orders Ive got, these others are only sitting down to breakfast. Let me just try that with my chief; Id be sacked on the spot. Anyhow, that might be quite a good thing for me, who can tell? If I didnt have to hold my hand because of my parents Id have given notice long ago, Id have gone to the chief and told him exactly what I think of him. That would knock him endways from his desk! Its a queer way of doing, too, this sitting on high at a desk and talking down to employees, especially when they have to come quite near because the chief is hard of hearing. Well, theres still hope; once Ive saved enough money to pay back my parents debts to him that should take another five or six years Ill do it without fail. Ill cut myself completely loose then. For the moment, though, Id better get up, since my train goes at five.

Franz Kafka, from The Metamorphosis (1912)

Based on the passage, which is the most logical conclusion to draw about Gregors personality?

What Has Happened to Gregor?

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He was lying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes.

What has happened to me? he thought. It was no dream. His room, a regular human bedroom, only rather too small, lay quiet between the four familiar walls.

Above the table on which a collection of cloth samples was unpacked and spread out Samsa was a commercial traveler hung the picture which he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and put into a pretty gilt frame. It showed a lady, with a fur cap on and a fur stole, sitting upright and holding out to the spectator a huge fur muff into which the whole of her forearm had vanished!

. . . .

He slid down again into his former position. This getting up early, he thought, makes one quite stupid. A man needs his sleep. Other commercials live like harem women. For instance, when I come back to the hotel of a morning to write up the orders Ive got, these others are only sitting down to breakfast. Let me just try that with my chief; Id be sacked on the spot. Anyhow, that might be quite a good thing for me, who can tell? If I didnt have to hold my hand because of my parents Id have given notice long ago, Id have gone to the chief and told him exactly what I think of him. That would knock him endways from his desk! Its a queer way of doing, too, this sitting on high at a desk and talking down to employees, especially when they have to come quite near because the chief is hard of hearing. Well, theres still hope; once Ive saved enough money to pay back my parents debts to him that should take another five or six years Ill do it without fail. Ill cut myself completely loose then. For the moment, though, Id better get up, since my train goes at five.

Franz Kafka, from The Metamorphosis (1912)

In lines 47–48, Gregor tells himself, "I’d better get up, since my train goes at five." This suggests that