I was always fascinated by the legends of Budapest – this city is my permanent muse. However traumatized and injured it is, however moody its inhabitants are these days, I love Budapest dearly, and I think it would be impossible for me to ever leave it.
If God seems to have forsaken the family, does it mean he still pays attention? In Péter Esterházy’s new novel, "Simple Story Comma One Hundred Pages – the Mark Version," these and similar questions pile up on page after slowly drifting page.
Snapshots of Hungary twenty-five years after the regime change, and a novel about World War II. János Térey tours Budapest in narrative poems; Krisztina Tóth tells stories of missed chances; Tamás Kötter chronicles the life of the jet set in Budapest; László Szilasi visits a class reunion in Szeged after thirty years; and Pál Závada reflects on events that happened seventy years ago.
A novel about a black freemason in 18th century Vienna who was exhibited in a museum after his death; a book about what happens to a society when long-coveted freedom finally arrives; the wartime diary of Miklós Radnóti’s wife; a book about a family evicted from Budapest in the 1950s; and Imre Kertész's "death diary."
Addressed to an imaginary aunt, these letters from the 1700s, written by a member of Prince Ferenc Rákóczi's retinue in Turkish exile, are the first example of art prose in Hungarian. – – Excerpts from a new English edition forthcoming from Corvina Press, Budapest.
I am sure that Teresa of Calcutta did not think that God has a religion. This is what those who consider themselves believers cannot forgive her, whereas radicals attacked her for administering the anointment of the sick to dying people they took home from the street.