Tag: quartet books

Helping Verbs of the Heart by Péter Esterházy

~ winstonsdad ~ 4 Comments

Helping Verbs of the Heart by Péter Esterházy

Hungarian fiction

Original title

Source: Personal copy

I recently mentioned that Péter Nadas had passed away; he was one of my favourite Hungarian writers. But while talking about him online, I found out one of his last books was about his relationship and connection with three other Hungarian writers; one of those writers was Péter Esterházy, a writer I have known for a long time.  I have his best-known book, Celestial Harmonies, on my TBR an epic book but it made me wonder what else was out there from him, and I found this secondhand. I have always loved the old Quartet edition books, so it seemed a perfect pick. It is also known for its unusual typography and having black edges arou nd the edge of the book, like you used to see on traditional mourning stationery in the Victorian period

Mother’s doctor watched us from the door. We couldn’t tell a thing from his face. He was a friend of my brother’s.

“Your mother, she’s got death in her innards.” That’s what he said. I didn’t like his tone. A man shouldn’t side with death, put himself on a par with it. Even if he’s a doctor—in other words, even if he knows a trick or two, if he sometimes sees the emperor has no clothes. “Your mother might hurry her death along,” he said, nodding, and when I glared at him, he added theatrically, “No need to be shocked. I’m a Voltairian.” “I see,” I nodded back, offended. “Neither death nor its master, God, takes us seriously. There is only one response worthy of man. Not to take them seriously.” I was afraid of him.

When I looked at him, which I tried desperately not to do, I felt I’d known him for a thousand years, and I had a disagreeable thought: Death is something you have to want.

This is a short novella from Esterházy that is far more complex than many longer books.

The book is unusual in the way it is set out and is about how a family is coping with the death of the mother of the family.  The father has called the children to the mother’s dying bedside in the hospital; it has the story of the mother drifting in and out of life in the hospital, her point of view on how she is being treated and how the family is around her.  Then there is the interaction between the siblings called to the mother’s bedside, and then a third narrative around what seem to be snippets of text, remembered passages. I’m not sure if this is Esterhazy remembering verses as he sat by his own mother’s bed as she died, or the mother remembering the passages. The book is about how we see our parents, how sibling relationships can simmer on for years, and also about how bloody awful and just dreadful dying can be when drawn out by someone’s bedside. I looked back at those last few hours of my own mothers life as I watched her drift away from me.

GOLD-DUST MANE STEPS OUT OF A LEAFY BOWER. TERRIFIED, PIERROT TOSSES THE REST OF HIS FLOWERS TO THE WINDS AND TRIES TO FLEE, BUT JUMPING A BARRIER HE GETS STUCK LIKE A HALF-OPEN PENKNIFE AND HIS TROUSERS BURST WITH AN INDECENT BANG IN AT LEAST A HUNDRED PLACES. THE HERALDIC LION, LOOKING ON WITH AN IRONIC SMILE, DAINTILY REMOVES ITS GLOVES AND PROCEEDS TO VIOLATE THE HELPLESSLY DANGLING PIER-ROT….
THE PUBLIC IS AMAZED AT THE BOLDNESS OF IT ALL.

There is two narratives the family and these other snippets.

This book reminded me how much great Hungarian fiction I still have to read. I feel another Hungarian lit month coming on sometime!

The book seems to be drawn in part from Esterházy’s own life and the death of his mother, but with extra characters thrown in, like siblings. I see the third lot of text has been connected by a number of Hungarian readers to, in fact, the other writers that Nadas wrote about in his book My Dead Friends. This book captures how we deal with death, both the good and =bad parts of it; how it can be like open-heart surgery for the family and how it can spew up the past of those connected to those dying and then you add in the third section of the passages snippets of writers from Hungary, it makes this a complex book that maybe needs multiple readings and a Deeper knowledge of the writer but also the time he lived in.  Then also a wider knowledge of the writers’ passages he includes in the book? Esterhazy is a writer I need to read more from; his best-known book also seems to deal with his own family’s past and their place within Hungarian society. Have you read any other of his books?  Would you take part in another Hungarian Lit month?

 

 

Two new shorts and a german seagulls

~ winstonsdad ~ 8 Comments

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m off for a night out later so not time to do a review. So I have chosen to show a few recent arrivals at Winstons towers. Sweet Potato. The first is from new publisher Honford Star. The collection from Kim Tongin is an insight into the first fifty years of the 20th century in Korea a time before its rise in power.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pushin press has a new collection of stories by the mast of the short story Chekov in a new translation from Nicolas Pasternak Slater the nephew of Boris Pasternak. There are thirteen stories in the collection including ones such as a day in the country, The lady with the little dog and the kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now some purchases first is a collection of short stories from Robert Wasler from a few years ago. I have read one of his books but now how well regarded he is as a writer. The book covers most of his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then two books by the late Swiss writer Urs Widmer. The first the Blue Soda siphon is an adult fairy tale that follows a man returning to his childhood in the 40s then his younger self, going forward to the 90s and the gulf war. In the congo follows a man that works in a retirement home where his father has just moved in and it follows the discovery his father wasn’t a boring man as he thought he was.The journey takes him to Congo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A trip for a grandfather and grandson to China goes slightly wrong. when then grandfather dies the grandson carries on writing back to family fantastic tales of what they were doing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then a second book for the tbr pile from German poet Hans Magnus Enzensberger. Tumult follows his life and the world from 1963 til 1970 as he was a left winger, spend time in the Soviet Union and Cuba. the last four books are all from Seagull books.