The Trial of Gregor Samsa: A Drama for Class

(Disembodied Voice) Lights--Blue only.
"There is a sixth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space, and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow - between man's grasp and his reach; between science and superstition; between the pit of his fears and the sunlight of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area that might be called the Twilight Zone".
Suddenly, the doc cam with the picture of the Beetle. A voice reads the first sentence of "The Metamorphosis." Then, there is screaming, for a good minute.
Judge/Father appears on the riser stage saying---no, no, no--this is Franz Kafka's story. Now, try it again.
Again, the first sentence is read. Meek voice then says: "What's happened to me? This is a nuisance, isn't it. How about going back to sleep and forgetting all this nonsense? But I'm used to sleeping on my right side, and keep rocking back to my back.. Oh well?
Lights--Black (while stage being readied).
Brrring, briiiing (sound of phone)
"Agent Fox Mulder here, X-Files desk. A Metamorphosis, you say? Traveling cloth salesman, wakes as a monstrous vermin. Got it. I'll be out there as soon as I can." Dials phone: "Skully, you better get in here right away."
Immediately, Scully appears, while walking across stage starts speaking: "What is it Mulder."
Mulder "It's a case of Metamorphosis. A guy in Prague seems to have turned into a bug"
Scully: "Nothing so strange about that, Mulder. A piece of cartilage may have disengaged, forming a base for more cartilage to grow and developing into a shell"
Mulder: (annoyed and bemused) "Scully, this man is described as having many legs."
Scully: "Well, genetic mutations have caused manifestations of such things as a sixth toe or a third testicle for many people over the years, Mulder. This is not an X-File Mulder, simply a scientific aberration.
Mulder: (thoughtfully) "You know, Scully, I get the feeling that there is more--that this is a matter of guilt and innocence. This may be a matter for the courts to decide.
Fade to Black.

Another Voiceover: "In the Criminal Justice System, there are two units involved in every case. The police to investigate the crime, and the agents of the court to prosecute it. Well, maybe not every case, since this week we will show a court case whose "crime" is unclear, but the punishment is clear, but the guilt isn’t really. Oh Whatever."
Judge: "Order in the Court. We are here today in the matter of one Gregor Samsa, a well known character from a great work of modernist literature, who is accused. MissO'Malley, what are the charges.
Prosecuting attorney ( PA) We charge Mr. Samsa of being guilty.
Defense attorney: (DA)"I object, your honor. Guilty of what, praytell."
P.A. I was getting to that, your honor (with a withering look at the D.A.)
We are, your honor, holding Mr. Samsa as guilty of three counts. First--Mr. Samsa, programmatically and incrementally attempted to take over the role of the patriarch in the Samsa household--before the death of the father had occurred (GASP). Second, that Mr. Samsa had accepted a life that was not directed towards fulfillment, towards virtue, towards enhancing his sense of self. Third, your honor, we charge that Mr. Samsa, the son, was actually relieved to have been transformed, as it were, into a beetle, and thus not having to perform his life duties.
D.A. Judge, these charges are ridiculous. Are we becoming the kind of society that says, when a man sacrifices mightily so that his family is secure and his father's debts are paid back--in full--that the man who managed this feat is now guilty. And as to having taken over the role of patriarch, surely it will be seen that Mr. Samsa the elder was on the downside of life, and was grateful that his son Gregor took on so much responsibility. Surely, your honor, there can be nothing wrong with that. As to the third charge, are we becoming the kind of society that blames the victim (pointing at Gregor) for his misfortune.
Judge: Miss O'Malley, make your case.
P.a. I call my first witness, the Mother of the accused.
Mother--approaching the dock, sniveling into a handkerchief.
Judge: Do you swear to tell the whole truth so help you G. . .--Art?
Mother "I do"
P.A. Mrs. Samsa, I understand your grief. As with the crucified: "His mother stood apart. No other looked into her secret eyes. No One dared." Try to bear with us. Is that your son? (pointing to the wall projection).
Mother: (wailing)"(oh my poor boy." He was such a good boy--You should have seen him in his lieutenant's uniform.
P.A. Answer the question Mrs. Samsa. Is that your son.
Mother, No. Yes. I mean, he used to be, I mean (Wailing again)--I don't know.
P.A.: Mrs. Samsa. Do you feel that your son was leading the best life he could?
Mother: Believe me sir, there's something the matter with him. Otherwise, how could Gregor have missed a train? That boy has nothing on his mind but the business. It's almost begun to rile me that he never goes out nights. He's been back in the city for eight days now, but every night he's been home. He sits there with us at the table, quietly reading the paper and studying timetables. It's almost a distraction for him when he's busy working with his fretsaw. For instance, in the span of two or three evenings he carved a little frame. You'll be amazed at how pretty it is. It's hanging inside his room
DA: Objection your honor--she is quoting exhibit A, Franz Kafka's “The Metamorphosis ,”word for word.
P.A. Your honor. She's a fictional character--she can only say what the author has written for her.
Judge: Get on with it.
P.A.: How did your husband take it when Gregor took over the role of the head of the family.
Mother: Oh, he was a good boy--working so hard to take care of the family.
PA. Is it true that you advised his sister to leave his room as it was, and when you were helping her change it he came out of his hiding place to terrorize you.
Mother: Oh, what a sight it was, how my heart was shaking. I don't think he meant to frighten me, though.
PA. I'm finished here, your honor.
Judge: Your witness, Miss Tiffany
DA: Mrs. Samsa, you have testified that Gregor had nothing on his mind but business. Do you feel that he liked his job.
Mother: Oh no, who would like a job like that.
DA: Then why do you suppose that he went to work every day.
Mother: He felt as if he had to take care of us, I suppose.
DA: And as for taking over as the head of the family--did Mr. Samsa ever complain about this?
Mother: well, no, I think he enjoyed staying home and eating too much.
DA: Mrs. Samsa. when you were scared that day about Gregor's appearance--what had he come out to do?
Mother: He was trying to save his fretwork frame I suppose, with that picture of that hideous woman.
DA: (triumphant) The same frame that you just so proudly described several minutes ago.
Mother: Well yes, but that was what the author had meant for me to say.
DA: That's all, your honor.
Judge: Call the next witness.
P.A. Call Grete Samsa.
P.A. Miss Samsa. Do you agree that Gregor was too single minded about his work.
Grete: Well, he liked to come into my room and talk with me. Sometimes I'd find him just, like, staring at me. I told him once, I said, Gregor--you should get a girlfriend. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and said "Grete, I don't need a girlfriend."
P.A. Miss Samsa, do you feel that Gregor had pushed your father aside to become the head of the family.
Grete: Oh, Gregor made the decisions and earned all the money. But father was
still the head of the family. If Gregor started prattling about samples or the bad food at the hotel, Father would move an eyebrow and Gregor would shut up and move to his room.
P.A. (to the DA) Your witness
DA: Miss Samsa, much has been made of your brother's sacrifices for his family. When he was, er, incapacitated, was it not you who made the sacrifices in order to make sure that his needs were met.
Grete: sure. It was the first thing that anyone ever really let me do. I got a kick out of playing Mommy and it was kind of nice too to have Gregor (string this out) totally dependent upon me . After a while, though, it got to be a little much. He couldn't thank me, and I felt that he was still staring at me all the time, and this was pretty creepy.
DA: Uh--I'm finished with this witness your honor.
P.A. I'd like to call to the stand the German philosopher Freidrich Nietzsche. (GASP).
DA. Your honor--I object! This man is dead! He, he,
Judge--That's enough--what kind of a trial do you think this is? Take the testimony.
PA. Mr. Nietzsche, you have been able to see how Mr. Samsa lived his life. what's your judgement of his vaunted :"sacrifice."
Nietzsche: This meekness that he showed--he is the man most fearful of life. Afraid to risk, afraid to fail--he is one of the numb, spiritless herd who are putty for the powerful who prey on these meek excuses for men.
Your witness
DA: Mr. Nee-chee, are you not on the record as saying that "God is Dead."
Niettzsche: I was misquoted. What I said was "Freddy's Dead. Freddy's Dead, Freddy's dead Badaba -bump bump"
DA: You want to critique our client on the basis of being kind to his mother. Is that not a charge that one could make against you yourself--that you were nice to your mother.
F. N.: She fulfilled her obligations by birthing me, I by depending on her for a while. Beyond that, a mother shouldn't depend on her own offspring, but only on herself.
DA: (turning to jury) why, ladies and gentlemen, should we trust a man who has this to say about his own mother?.

Judge: Call your Next witness:
P.A. I call the cleaning woman.
P.A. You were the one to discover the body. Did you notice anything strange in the Samsa household at the time?
Cleaning woman: Oh, people have their good and bad times, but its up to all of us to live through these things. I haven't had the greatest time of it and I had a grandmother who had been the daughter of the Pope, who in the end came to have only one buttock. I wonder what has become of her?
DA: No questions for this woman, your honor--she obviously doesn't believe in optimism.
Judge: We have time for one more witness.
P.A. I'd like to call to the stand The Father
Judge: (as if answering a role call) Here
Da: what's going on--the judge is the Father. No wonder the trial is so messed up. How can the Father also be the judge.
Judge: In the world of Kafka, the father is always the judge.
P.A./ your honor: You've seen the proceedings. What do you think?
Judge/Father: That boy--he always was a little "J Alfred Prufrock" if you know what I mean--and I'm pretty sure you don't. Always "Do I dare and do I dare. Do I dare to eat a peach?" and all that. One day it's "I shall wear my trousers rolled" and its like he's cliff diving to him"
PA: (puzzled) Yes,, I see, but how did you feel when he took over the role of the patriarch?
Father. Him? He couldn't father a good turd. I was always more the man than he, even when I was comatose with contentment. But yeah, he was the breadearner--hadn't I fed and clothed him for half his life?
PA: And when your son's transformation occurred--well what do you think caused it.
Father: It was goldbricking, pure and simple. Like "OH, I have the sniffles, I can't bear to go to work. I think I'll turn into a bug and just sit here instead." I gotta say though--the boy had a will. Sat so long it sapped the life outta him.
PA: Your witness.
DA: Mr. Samsa--is it true that when Gregor was working so hard to repay your debt, that you had money in reserve and was even saving some of Gregor's earnings.
Father: m Sure, and it's a good thing I did. Look what happened when the little hero faded out.
DA: Can you describe the last face to . . . uh, face encounter you had with your . . . er, son.
Father: I had just come home from a hard day delivering sandwiches to the banking executives when I found this little insect trying to reassert himself among the women of the house. I tell you--I let him have it (pantomines the throw) "How do you like them apples.”
DA: I'm done, your honor
Judge: I will now do the summations.
Both lawyers rise--But your honor, this is most
Judge: Zip it!
DA: This is most extraord. . .
Judge: Oh, look, your fly is open! Zip it!

Judge: I am the father, I am the law. I may sometimes look weak and flabby, look surmountable, but I am at the top of my game when I seem the weakest. This trial is convened to access the guilt or innocence of my boy, Gregor. Of course he is guilty--he's on earth!
You may feel pity for him. It is true that he is pitiful.
You may "admire" him for his sacrifices. It is his right to sacrifice if he wants, and your right to admire.
And you may think--poor boy. never a moment of self-determination. And if he did. . . what kind of business do you think he's get up to.
For me--there's cabbage and schnitzel with a fried egg on top. So I go know to my dinner, and you all can disburse. If you want to you can work yourself up by being outraged, wronged, denied the justice that the system promises.
(During this last speech Grete will ascent the riser stage, until at the end it is she who has gained ascendancy, and during the last description everyone will look at her.)
But before I go, I tell you one last thing. When the good, kind, generous, sacrificing Gregor left us, it was like a great burden was lifted. We each had our gardens to tend, instead of being forced to live off of Gregor. We could now take a smaller and cheaper apartment, but one better situated and in every way simpler to manage than the old one, which gregor had picked out for us. While my wife and I were talking in this vein, it occurred to the both of us, as we watched our daughter growing more and more lively, that lately, in spite of all the troubles which had turned her cheeks pale, she had blossomed into a good-looking, shapely girl. And it was like a confirmation of our new dreams and good intentions when at the end of our ride our daughter got up first and stretched her young body. (Lights Out after a good stretch)