Gregor didn’t turn into a beetle; he was transformed into one. His family, the rules of the society he lived in, the desires, and everyone around him transformed him into a beetle. They were so powerful that they even convinced a man who knew he wasn’t a beetle that he was one. In fact, that was the most important thing: the power to convince.
The treatment of the different, the trap set for them, did not change, did not appear decades later as it did decades ago.
Who created an order may be important, but anyone who accepts this order, if not strong enough, can become guards who want the order to continue and ensure it. Habit plays an important role in this transformation. It is not just about getting used to the good; one can get used to the bad as well. Such an affinity puts an end to questioning. Cruelties, absurdities, and exclusions become normalized. Everyone that everyone calls a beetle becomes a beetle, and everyone that everyone calls bad becomes bad!
You are not transformed into a beetle in every society and every time, of course. In that time, in that society, and in that place, whatever is bad enough to humiliate and exclude you becomes you. First, they turn you into a beetle, then they declare that they don’t want the beetles among them and try to get rid of you.
It took me seven years to realize that I was part of a group that was “beetle-ized,” and four years to hide the fact that I was labeled as a beetle among those who thought I was a beetle. But I never saw myself as a beetle. I didn’t allow them to convince me that I was a beetle. Didn’t I get upset at all? It wasn’t unlikely to get upset when the people who always wanted the best for you turned you into the “worst.” In a society that hated beetles, it was very difficult to continue living, and it was impossible to prove that you weren’t a beetle! Because everywhere, they told how beetles were and what they should do if they saw one. There was no choice but to stay away from them because no one was smart enough to understand that differences would make life easier. But the different ones seemed to “expect the reality that pervaded everywhere in silence to return and everything to return to normal.”[1]
We are still waiting. “Before dawn, many things arise from the womb of the night.” (Mustafa Rahmî Efendi).
[1] Franz Kafka, Dönüşüm, Tr. Gülperi Sert, İstanbul: Türkiye İş Bankası Kültür Yayınları, 2008, p. 7.
