The Monster at the End of This Essay
15
obsessed . . . I no longer attempt even to appear to avoid the
entrance, but make a hobby of prowling round it; by now it is
almost is if I were the enemy spying out a suitable opportunity
for successfully breaking in... . [0]ne is never free from
anxieties [even] inside it.. . . [I]t was an almost inaudible
whistling noise that wakened me. . . . [PJerhaps—this idea
now insinuates itself—I am concerned here with some animal
unknown to me. That is possible. .. . The noise seems to have
become louder, not much louder, of course—here it is always
a matter of the subtlest shades—but all the same sufficiently
louder for the ear to recognize it clearly. And his growinglouder is like a coming-nearer. . . you can literally see the
steps that bring it closer to you. You leap back from the wall,
you try to grasp at once all the possible consequences that this
discovery will bring with it. . . . I can find no slightest trace of
reason in what had seemed so reasonable; once more I lay
aside my work and even my listening; I have no wish to
discover any further signs that the noise is growing louder; I
have had enough of discoveries; 1 let everything slide; 1 would
be quite content if I could only still the conflict going on
within me. . . . [But] that consummation . . . cannot, of course,
be brought about by negotiation, but only by the beast itself, or
some compulsion exercised from my side.*"
Like Kafka’s animal, Grover sees himself from afar. He sees himself both as
peacefully sleeping (that is, as lovable, furry, old Grover) and as the beastenemy that prowls around and watches him sleeping (as the monster). To still
the conflict from the outside would really mean to still it from the inside. And
this is the point at which logos goes into a crisis.
In the end, this is what both of these works of fiction take as a central
theme: the impossible project of rationality. Kafka’s burrowing animal is hyperrational. He ponders arguments and evidence for the existence of the beast that
he senses is getting closer all of the time. He considers hypotheses and proofs,
examines them premise by premise and manages only to work himself into that
much more of an anxious frenzy. Ironically, the burrow—like Reason itself—
was supposed to be the protector, the site of assurance and security, but it has
become the very source of apprehension, the point of the animal’s potential
undoing and the reason he feels in danger. Kafka’s short story, like The Monster
at the End of This Book, is a narrative in which nothing much happens apart
from dealing with the dread of what might happen. Reason, which was expected
to make life easier and more secure, has thus emptied life of content so that there
is nothing really to make easier and more secure. The burrowing animal cannot
enjoy his earthly hideaway because all he does is worry about the beast that may
be coming for him there. And Grover cannot accomplish anything in the course
of his book because all he can think of is how terrible the conclusion might be