Thank you gregorious, I was indeed referring to that memorable unearthly morning surprise:
Als Gregor Samsa eines Morgens aus unruhigen Träumen erwachte, fand er sich in seinem Bett zu einem ungeheueren Ungeziefer verwandeltHard to do justice in translation to the spine-chilling
ungeheueren Ungeziefer. Anyway that's Roxy's tat.
Although Prague's tacky-tourism biz offers big slices of Kafka - and there's an underwhelming museum - calling him a Czech writer is a half truth. His was a Jewish family speaking German and Yiddish at home. He studied in German, and spoke Czech to communicate with servants, tradespeople and whores.
Kafka lived 1883-1924, so for all but his last years he was a Bohemian subject of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. German was the language of the upper and educated classes in Bohemia, and FK wrote the language with exquisite poise and precision which weirdly exacerbates the nebulous awfulness of events and impressions in 'The Castle', 'The Trial' and 'Metamorphosis'.
Well, enough of that.
Henry wants to awake from troubled dreams one morning, to find Roxy's firm thigh
mit seinem ungeheuren Ungeziefer nestling against his morning glory...



