A loss is a thing to be mourned, it seems, especially in the context of love. We consider loss—be it through death, divorce, or estrangement—the worst possible outcome. Yet, there is a kind of collateral enablement that comes with this deprivation, a kind of power that comes with letting go. Both Franz Kafka’s novel The Metamorphosis and Spike Jonze’s film Her star protagonists who experience losses so significant to them that it seems they have been deprived of their lifeblood. However, it is only through the loss of these apparent needs that they can achieve their innermost—subconscious, even—objectives. For Gregor Samsa, this means losing his human form, which is inseparably tethered to his status as a worker, in order to find freedom from an overbearing capitalistic society. For Theodore Twombly, this means losing the love of his life—not once, but twice—in order to conquer his underlying fear of being alone. Where these two protagonists differ, however, is in their willingness to sacrifice these apparent needs. Though Gregor realizes that his humanness is what chains him to servitude and prevents his liberation, he is unwilling to relinquish it; the novel ends with Gregor’s death, as the rest of the world moves on. Theodore, on the other hand, is able to come to terms with his loss and, through this, overcome his most underlying challenge. Unlike The Metamorphosis, Her ends with its protagonist alive and newly embossed with purpose. Through their respective struggles with losing their apparent needs, these protagonists reveal the disheartening truth: that, sometimes, what we think we need is not what we actually need. And, sometimes, we need to lose what we think we need in order to get what we actually need.
Gregor Samsa is introduced as the epitome of working individual. His conscious identity revolves solely around what he believes to be his essentials: going to work and providing for his family. It is a famously incongruous opening scene. Gregor wakes up transformed into a “monstrous insect” but is otherwise unperturbed and returns to sleep (3). He expresses strong displeasure only when his physical discomfort reminds him of his job, grumbling “‘Good Lord…what an exhausting profession I’ve chosen” (4). This initial complaint prompts even more extensive complaints about “‘the agony of traveling’” as Gregor entertains the thought of skipping a bit of work to eat breakfast: “‘I’d like to see my boss’s face if I tried that some time; he’d can me on the spot’” (4). The brief satisfaction that Gregor gains from undermining his boss’s authority, even in his imagination, hints at Gregor’s underlying desire to live according to his own schedule and needs. However, he beats these thoughts away “for the time being,” intentionally displacing them with the acceptance of his reality as a cog in the wheel—specifically, a cog in the wheel who cannot afford to lose his job (4). The prospect of unemployment immediately drives him to his sole other point of concern, his parents’ debt. “‘If I didn’t have to hold back for my parents’ sake,’” he explains, “‘I’d have given notice long ago.’” (4). He switches from these concerns to turn his attention back towards work, as his “‘train leaves at five’” (4).
With this first scene, Kafka offers the readers a look into Gregor’s head, which, despite Gregor’s extraordinary physical transformation, is occupied only with mundane maunderings about work and family finances. It is clear that Gregor dislikes his work but resigns himself to it because he believes he has no other choice. He simply needs to work. At this point in the novel, Gregor has not acknowledged his physical transformation or suffered any interpersonal consequences due to his metamorphosis. Therefore, we can assume that he still identifies as human. His thoughts, then, reflect his human identity: the fact that he ponders exclusively about work, family, and money indicates that he sees himself for the productive value he brings to the workplace and the financial value he brings back home. The authenticity of these thoughts is verified by the fact that Gregor has them even in the intimate space of his bedroom, in the privacy of his own head. He has internalized so deeply his symbiotic relationship with corporate servitude and his justification for it that his mind, it seems, cannot wander to anything else beyond those two subjects. Thus, Kafka establishes Gregor’s apparent need, working to support his family, in order to preface the complications that arise with Kafka’s later revelations of Gregor’s underlying need.
Theodore’s introduction is similarly melancholy; the visual and conversational cues construct his identity for the viewer as an exceedingly lonely man, desperately in need of company. After opening a voice message in which someone calls him “‘sad’” and “‘mopey’,” Theodore walks home, alone, wearing an orange jacket and red shirt, while everyone around him is dressed in neutrals (3:40-5:00). This juxtaposition creates an intense sense of alienation, as Theodore seems visually excluded by his surroundings; the only thing lonelier than being alone is being alone while everyone else is together. Theodore then enters his apartment in the darkness, remaining in the dark as “‘Melancholy Song’” plays in the background (5:00-5:35). The chronological presentation of these mundane daily tasks conveys routineness, implying that Theodore lives like this—lonely, melancholy, alienated—every day. With Theodore’s first flashback, the viewer gets a glimpse of his past, which is starkly different from his current situation: he moves into an apartment with a woman (his ex-wife, Catherine), they help each other carry furniture, they are physically and emotionally intimate, and there is sunlight pouring into the rooms in every scene (6:07-6:20). This fond reflection, especially when viewed together with the scene immediately following, reveals Theodore’s longing for the past, when he was not alone, as he goes from tender joyfulness with Catherine to discomfort in the darkness, alone (6:20-7:00). His loneliness and discomfort leads him to engage in phone sex with a stranger, indicating his desire for physical intimacy as well (7:20-10:05). The very next day, he purchases an Operating System companion with a “female” voice, displaying his desire for emotional intimacy (11:50-11:56). Evidently, Theodore is lonely and yearns for connection. Thus, like Kafka, Jonze uses an introduction to establish his protagonist’s apparent need.
Given their respective introductions, it may seem that Gregor and Theodore have very clear needs which they must satisfy: Gregor to work and support his family, Theodore to form connections with other people. However, the respective creators of these works present these needs in such obvious ways because they intend to complicate the true nature of these priorities. Upon further inspection, we shall find, first, that Gregor and Theodore have needs other than what is explicitly conveyed, and, second, that they must lose these apparent needs in order to satisfy their underlying ones.
Despite Gregor’s repeated insistence that employment and family are his necessary priorities, Kafka reveals, through more subtle images and hints, that these are not his underlying needs. Analyzing the opening scene once more, accounting for these subtleties, delivers a very different impression of Gregor’s supposed needs for work and family. The first sentence of the novel mentions Gregor waking up from “troubled dreams” as a monstrous insect (3). While these “troubled dreams” could refer to Gregor’s literal dreams, a Freudian reading would suggest that they serve a symbolic purpose, perhaps conveying that Gregor’s subconscious is disturbed by his conscious actions and lifestyle. His awakening as an insect, then, represents his awakening from these troubles. In a literal sense, Gregor is separated from his problems by his physical form. Work and family finances are, after all, both exclusively human responsibilities. It is thus hinted at that Gregor’s human form burdens him. In addition, while Kafka describes extensively Gregor’s new insect form (down to the “rigid arches” of his “segmented” belly) as well as Gregor’s surroundings (down to the “glossy” texture of a magazine from which Gregor clipped a picture and the “fur hat[,] fur boa[, and] fur muff” worn by the lady in the picture), Kafka’s only description of Gregor’s human self is “(Samsa was a traveling salesman)” (3). The fact that this comment is sectioned off with parentheses, made almost as an aside, depicts the subject of Gregor’s job as something relatively insignificant. To frame his job in this way may seem incongruous, given that Gregor’s job is essentially the crux of his existence.
However, this is exactly what Kafka suggests: by decreasing the significance of Gregor’s job (relative to trivial details, no less), Kafka subtly conveys that Gregor’s job is not truly fundamental to his existence. This claim is further supported by a scene previously mentioned, in which Gregor talks to himself in his room: “‘If I didn’t have to hold back for my parents’ sake…I’d have given notice long ago.’” (4). Considering that Gregor is alone, it is odd that he would voice this aloud, as if he is insisting to someone else the legitimacy of his need to work. The fact that he feels the need to self-justify implies that Gregor, subconsciously, has reservations about his work-centric lifestyle. Framing his servitude as a need allows him to ignore the heavy question of whether or not this servitude is his actual need. It is only his sudden metamorphosis that can disrupt his blissful ignorance by impairing his ability to serve. With this in mind, we begin to see complexities of Gregor’s underlying needs and identity, beyond what Kafka explicitly conveys.
Similarly, despite Theodore’s apparent commitment to his happiness with Samantha, he is not entirely fulfilled by their relationship because he is only satisfying an apparent need. While Samantha does improve his life in noticeable ways, she is not the solution to what is ultimately a problem with himself: his fear of living as an individual, rather than someone’s other half. If she were the solution to Theodore’s inability to let go of Catherine, then Theodore would not continuously have flashbacks of Catherine after dating Samantha, especially while Samantha excitedly speaks to him (1:10:30-1:10:32). If Samantha were the cure for Theodore’s loneliness, then Theodore would not still be consumed with “‘fear’” and “‘feel[ing] so alone’” as Samantha observes (1:29:34-1:29:48). If Samantha were the solution to Theodore’s struggle with being open in relationships, Theodore would not have responded to the sex surrogate’s description of their relationship as “‘lov[ing] each other without any judgment” with “Wait no that’s not true, it’s more complicated” (1:19:57-1:20:11).
Theodore, like Gregor, is subconsciously aware that pursuing his apparent need does not actually leave him satisfied. And, like Gregor, he does not realize this on his own, since Samantha’s constant presence provides Theodore perpetual instant gratification. While Gregor’s subconscious dissatisfaction manifests itself in his dreams and self-justification, Theodore’s manifests itself in occasional attempts to sabotage his relationship with Samantha. Most notably, after Samantha’s disastrous attempt to have sex with Theodore via surrogate, she sincerely apologizes and repeatedly asks Theodore if he is okay (1:21:20-1:22:10). However, instead of dignifying Samantha’s genuine questions with genuine answers, Theodore takes an offensive stance, judgmentally asking “‘Why do you do that [when you talk]?’” when such questioning is neither warranted nor relevant (1:21:49-1:22:14). And, despite Theodore’s insistence to everyone else that he feels “‘really close to [Samantha]’” (1:02:10-1:02:30), that Samantha is “‘really good for [him]’” (1:07:15-1:07:47), and that he experiences “‘real emotions’” with her (1:08:20-1:08:50), he responds to Samantha’s “‘Fuck you! I’m not pretending!’” with “‘Sometimes, it feels like we are.’” (1:22:57-1:23:04). With this, it becomes clear that being with Samantha does not fix Theodore’s underlying issue, his fear of living by and for himself, and even prevents him from directly confronting it by giving him a crutch on which to fall back.
Thus, in satisfying their apparent needs with temporary solutions, Gregor and Theodore avoid meeting their underlying needs. While Gregor provides for his family as he apparently needs to, he is truly dissatisfied with his life and yearns for freedom. However, so long as he is human, he is capable of working, which is to say, so long as he is human, he is trapped by the system of capitalistic bureaucracy and cannot achieve freedom. Therefore, in order for Gregor to be free from the chains of human responsibility, he must lose his humanness. On a similar note, while Theodore finds a companion in Samantha as he apparently needs to, he too is dissatisfied with his life and struggles to find purpose in his existence as an individual. So long as he is in a romantic relationship with someone, he cannot achieve this end. Therefore, in order for Theodore to conquer his fear of living alone, he must lose both Catherine and Samantha.
It is only after Gregor adjusts to his new insect form and begins to lose his humanness that he experiences the liberation he subconsciously craves. Notwithstanding his isolation, Gregor feels joyful and even relaxed, consumed with “happy absentmindedness”: “He particularly liked hanging from the ceiling high above the room; it was completely different from lying on the floor” (26). In a literal sense, Gregor’s insect form elevates him, as his tarsal claws are what enable him to climb upwards, onto the ceiling. Obviously, humans are physically incapable of replicating this feat, so Gregor’s new form does lend him some physical enhancement. The significance of this enhancement, however, lies in its complete uniqueness. For once, Gregor is unique in the functions which he performs, no longer just an indistinguishable, replaceable employee. His human identity is inseparable from work and servitude. This feeling of being “different” from a prior state is, in and of itself, liberating to him; he “breathe[s] more freely” (26). The symbolic implications of this elevation also reveal the liberation Gregor finds in being un-human. He no longer dwells on the floor, as he both literally and figuratively did when he was a human and allowed himself to be trampled on by his boss and family. He “particularly likes” this change (26). It is worth noting that Kafka does not describe Gregor as particularly liking anything prior to this, except for milk, which, no longer even “taste[s] good to him at all” (18). By highlighting Gregor’s newfound particular preference, Kafka implies that Gregor now, more so than before, is able to enjoy experiences as they come, rather than constantly disregard his current unhappiness with the consolation that his situation will eventually change.
Where Kafka really proves the point that Gregor must lose his humanness in order to obtain freedom, however, is when Grete and Gregor’s mother discuss clearing out Gregor’s room: “[Gregor] would be able to crawl about unhindered in every direction, but at the price of simultaneously swiftly and completely forgetting his human past” (27). Gregor decides he is “unwilling to forego” his last connections to his human self; he is not willing to sacrifice his apparent need in order to satisfy his underlying need (27). The story ends with Gregor dead, as his family—the original motivating force behind Gregor’s work-centric identity—moves on.
Unlike Gregor, Theodore is able to come to terms with his loss; he finally realizes that he can exist with meaning, even without a relationship. The film builds up to this realization by explicitly presenting Theodore’s need for companionship but also displaying the negative effects of this dependence. When Samantha questions Theodore about why he has not finalized his divorce, he tells her “‘I’m not ready. I like being married’” (27:24-27:27). This statement reveals that Theodore is not attached to Catherine specifically but rather the idea of being together with someone. He does not fear losing Catherine in the divorce; he fears being alone because he lacks confidence and purpose as an individual. The only reason why he works up the courage to meet with Catherine to “sign the papers, be divorced, [and] just move forward” is that he believes himself to be securely in a relationship with Samantha by this point (1:03:14-1:03:25). And, even then, he is not completely comfortable with letting Catherine go. When she signs the papers, he remarks, almost alarmed, “‘You don’t have to do it right now,’” revealing his hesitation (1:05:38-1:05:42). Theodore’s hesitation about the divorce is really his hesitation about losing people in general.
It is this underlying fear of being alone which he truly needs to confront and reconcile. However, as mentioned, Theodore cannot confront this true need without losing Samantha first. The ending reflects this realization, as losing Samantha forces him to confront his aloneness. Whereas he was not fully able to accept his divorce with Catherine when they met in person, Theodore spends the final scene of the film writing a letter to Catherine, this time fully acknowledging that their relationship has ended. He sincerely apologizes for his mistakes, acknowledges his flaws, and tells her that he will continue to love and support her even though they are no longer together (1:54:59-1:56:36). It is a bittersweet ending, but the sun rises in the background, as Theodore sits on a rooftop and shares a smile with his friend (1:56:42-1:57:22). He is no longer in the dark, lonely and grasping for company. It takes losing love for him to realize that he can survive letting go.
Ultimately, both Gregor and Theodore must be rid of their apparent needs in order to satisfy their underlying ones, as it is only through these losses that they can see and experience what they are without those singular, significant pieces. These sacrifices are painful, but as the ending of Her suggests, we cannot live fulfilling lives if we refuse to let go. And, as the ending of The Metamorphosis suggests, to live unfulfilled is to not live at all. The loss in action is almost always a sad thing. But perhaps lacking does not always warrant mourning.