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The Afterlife of Stars
In the waning months of 1956, while Russian tanks roll into the public squares of Budapest to crush the Hungarian Revolution, brothers Robert and Attila Beck flee with their family to the Paris townhouse of their great-aunt Hermina. As they travel through minefields both real and imagined, Robert and Attila grapple with sibling rivalry, family secrets, and incalculable loss to arrive at a place they thought they’d lost forever: home.
In beautifully crafted writing that burns with intensity and humour, Joseph Kertes explores displacement and uncertainty in a dark time from the perspective of two boys filled with wonder at the world around them.
In beautifully crafted writing that burns with intensity and humour, Joseph Kertes explores displacement and uncertainty in a dark time from the perspective of two boys filled with wonder at the world around them.
288 pages, Paperback
First published September 2, 2014
51 people are currently reading
1789 people want to read
About the author
Joseph Kertes
10 books61 followersJoseph Kertes was born in Hungary (1951) but escaped with his family to Canada after the revolution of 1956.
He studied English at York University and the University of Toronto, where he was encouraged in his writing by Irving Layton and Marshall McLuhan.
Kertes founded Humber College's distinguished creative writing and comedy programs. He is currently Humber's Dean of Creative and Performing Arts and is a recipient of numerous awards for teaching and innovation.
His first novel, Winter Tulips, won the Stephen Leacock Award for Humour. Boardwalk, his second novel, and two children's books, The Gift and The Red Corduroy Shirt, met with critical acclaim.
His novel, Gratitude, won a Canadian National Jewish Book Award and the U.S. National Jewish Book Award for Fiction. Kertes has also been a finalist for a National Magazine Award and the CBC Literary Award.
His latest novel, The Afterlife of Stars, has been described by Anne Michaels as “unforgettable and deeply moving,” and by Richard Bausch as “brilliant, radiant.”
He studied English at York University and the University of Toronto, where he was encouraged in his writing by Irving Layton and Marshall McLuhan.
Kertes founded Humber College's distinguished creative writing and comedy programs. He is currently Humber's Dean of Creative and Performing Arts and is a recipient of numerous awards for teaching and innovation.
His first novel, Winter Tulips, won the Stephen Leacock Award for Humour. Boardwalk, his second novel, and two children's books, The Gift and The Red Corduroy Shirt, met with critical acclaim.
His novel, Gratitude, won a Canadian National Jewish Book Award and the U.S. National Jewish Book Award for Fiction. Kertes has also been a finalist for a National Magazine Award and the CBC Literary Award.
His latest novel, The Afterlife of Stars, has been described by Anne Michaels as “unforgettable and deeply moving,” and by Richard Bausch as “brilliant, radiant.”
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 138 reviews
February 6, 2017
3.5 When the Russians arrive in Budapest to stop the Hungarian Revolution, there is much terror and bloodshed. Men hanging from lampposts, shot in the street. Young Robert 9.8 years as he points out and his 13 year old brother Atilla, with their family, leave their home, taking a train to their Great Aunt's house in Paris. Along the way they will meet many different people, experience a family heartbreak and separation, until they finally make it to Paris. Once there family secrets are exposed, setting the boys on an a quest with a horrendous consequences.
This is a hard book for me to review, I have so many mixed feelings, but I did like the boys, the family. Atilla has a strange way of addressing his younger brother, though the boys are very close, it took some getting used too for sure. Robert is our narrator and he tends to follow along with whatever Atilla decides. Atilla, very bright, always asking questions, over hears things and wants clarification, so many questions needing so many answers. For the most part I enjoyed many of the characters, the writing meaningful and concise. There was just one part concerning the greataunt's maid and the boys that I felt was unnecessary and couldn't understand the meaning, why it ever had to be there. Such a strange and to me at least off putting scene.
A good story, humorous at times, with tragic undertones, and a book that highlights the cost of war on one particular family.
This is a hard book for me to review, I have so many mixed feelings, but I did like the boys, the family. Atilla has a strange way of addressing his younger brother, though the boys are very close, it took some getting used too for sure. Robert is our narrator and he tends to follow along with whatever Atilla decides. Atilla, very bright, always asking questions, over hears things and wants clarification, so many questions needing so many answers. For the most part I enjoyed many of the characters, the writing meaningful and concise. There was just one part concerning the greataunt's maid and the boys that I felt was unnecessary and couldn't understand the meaning, why it ever had to be there. Such a strange and to me at least off putting scene.
A good story, humorous at times, with tragic undertones, and a book that highlights the cost of war on one particular family.
December 9, 2024
Some books draw us in immediately, and of these, not all retain the initial zest.
Some books seduce us and only at the disappointing finale do we realize a lack of depth, or resolution, or satisfaction.
There are books we abandon for various reasons, in irritation or disgust or boredom perhaps, an inability to connect, even if we plough on to the end, as a tedious chore.
Then there are books that take longer to assert their character. Books that rattle us, that force us to sit up and take note. Books that suddenly cause us to laugh or weep.
I'm sure there are more types of books, I know there are, but for the preliminary remarks to a review, sufficient here to say thatThe Afterlife of Stars is the latter kind of book.
I had not heard of the author, I took it out of the library because I liked the title, and I did not fall in love right away.
Now that I know how wonderful it is, I want to read it again with pleasure and not suspicion.
Some books seduce us and only at the disappointing finale do we realize a lack of depth, or resolution, or satisfaction.
There are books we abandon for various reasons, in irritation or disgust or boredom perhaps, an inability to connect, even if we plough on to the end, as a tedious chore.
Then there are books that take longer to assert their character. Books that rattle us, that force us to sit up and take note. Books that suddenly cause us to laugh or weep.
I'm sure there are more types of books, I know there are, but for the preliminary remarks to a review, sufficient here to say thatThe Afterlife of Stars is the latter kind of book.
I had not heard of the author, I took it out of the library because I liked the title, and I did not fall in love right away.
Now that I know how wonderful it is, I want to read it again with pleasure and not suspicion.
February 5, 2017
I received this book from NetGalley in exchange for review.
The Hungarian Revolution of 1956 began as a student demonstration against Soviet-imposed policies and turned into a nationwide revolt which resulted in the collapse of the government.
Next time someone tells you that being a part of any demonstration won't lead to anything, remember the Hungarian Uprising as one amongst many examples of how a few voices can quickly grow into a nationwide revolution.
The author escaped Hungary to Canada during the Hungarian Revolution when he was just five years old. He was slightly younger than the protagonist in his book, Robert Beck, who is very sure to tell the us that he is 9.8 years of age. (He has just learned decimals in school and does not want us to forget it.) His older brother, Attila, is 13.7. The relationship between Robert and Attila is as important to the story as the backdrop of the Hungarian Revolution. As their family rushes to pack in preparation to leave their home to the hands of Russian soldiers, Robert and Attila sneak out of the house and witness many atrocities of what is happening in Budapest at that time.
I can't help but wonder if Kertes himself witnessed as much as Robert did. A family member cries over Robert when he tells her about the bodies he saw hanging in the public square, and unfortunately those were not the only dead bodies he would encounter before arriving in Canada. It seems plausible that Kertes would have witnessed similar horrors as a five year old, which could easily have been the impetus to his decision to write this novel.
It is a quick read at less than 300 pages; I was able to read it in one day, even though I worked 9 hours of that day and was only able to read on my bus commutes, during my lunch break, and a few minutes before bed. It's not a difficult read, aside from some of the more visual descriptions which are rough for someone who has never lived through such cruelties. In America we may be close to living under Soviet-imposed policies, but we haven't encountered it fully yet. This book was a wonderful reminder for those of us who have been privileged for so long.
I never felt I was fully able to connect with any of the characters. Why was Attila as inquisitive and curious as he was? It was almost a compulsion for him to constantly ask questions, annoyingly so at times, though I can't fault the book for that since I attribute that to his character rather than the writing. I wanted to hear more about the other characters, especially Hermina, but recognize that while the story is told from a 9.8 year old's perspective, he may not have gotten the full scoop on all the family stories, though he did manage to find out quite a bit by the end. It could have been more powerful had that been consistent throughout the book, rather than in a sudden way as I felt it was. I have seen some complaints about the way Robert is referred to throughout the story, in rather effeminate terms which can seem strange especially when they're uttered by his brother. I saw these statements as terms of endearment - while the book is not translated from the Hungarian, I felt a lot of the writing was European in that sense, where terms of endearment are not all that unusual between family members even of the same sex. There were times when it seemed Attila used those terms with more and more frequency as the story went on, but I grew to feel Attila was using those terms more to annoy his little brother in a facetious way.
If I learned anything about Attila during this reading, it's that he liked to push buttons.
Overall, I had hoped for a bit more, but am appreciative of what I was able to glean about the Hungarian Revolution through this small and quick book. I wish primarily that I had gotten to know the supporting characters better than we were allowed, and more about the transition to Canada would have been nice as well since we did not really get to see much of that process if at all.
The Hungarian Revolution of 1956 began as a student demonstration against Soviet-imposed policies and turned into a nationwide revolt which resulted in the collapse of the government.
Next time someone tells you that being a part of any demonstration won't lead to anything, remember the Hungarian Uprising as one amongst many examples of how a few voices can quickly grow into a nationwide revolution.
The author escaped Hungary to Canada during the Hungarian Revolution when he was just five years old. He was slightly younger than the protagonist in his book, Robert Beck, who is very sure to tell the us that he is 9.8 years of age. (He has just learned decimals in school and does not want us to forget it.) His older brother, Attila, is 13.7. The relationship between Robert and Attila is as important to the story as the backdrop of the Hungarian Revolution. As their family rushes to pack in preparation to leave their home to the hands of Russian soldiers, Robert and Attila sneak out of the house and witness many atrocities of what is happening in Budapest at that time.
I can't help but wonder if Kertes himself witnessed as much as Robert did. A family member cries over Robert when he tells her about the bodies he saw hanging in the public square, and unfortunately those were not the only dead bodies he would encounter before arriving in Canada. It seems plausible that Kertes would have witnessed similar horrors as a five year old, which could easily have been the impetus to his decision to write this novel.
It is a quick read at less than 300 pages; I was able to read it in one day, even though I worked 9 hours of that day and was only able to read on my bus commutes, during my lunch break, and a few minutes before bed. It's not a difficult read, aside from some of the more visual descriptions which are rough for someone who has never lived through such cruelties. In America we may be close to living under Soviet-imposed policies, but we haven't encountered it fully yet. This book was a wonderful reminder for those of us who have been privileged for so long.
I never felt I was fully able to connect with any of the characters. Why was Attila as inquisitive and curious as he was? It was almost a compulsion for him to constantly ask questions, annoyingly so at times, though I can't fault the book for that since I attribute that to his character rather than the writing. I wanted to hear more about the other characters, especially Hermina, but recognize that while the story is told from a 9.8 year old's perspective, he may not have gotten the full scoop on all the family stories, though he did manage to find out quite a bit by the end. It could have been more powerful had that been consistent throughout the book, rather than in a sudden way as I felt it was. I have seen some complaints about the way Robert is referred to throughout the story, in rather effeminate terms which can seem strange especially when they're uttered by his brother. I saw these statements as terms of endearment - while the book is not translated from the Hungarian, I felt a lot of the writing was European in that sense, where terms of endearment are not all that unusual between family members even of the same sex. There were times when it seemed Attila used those terms with more and more frequency as the story went on, but I grew to feel Attila was using those terms more to annoy his little brother in a facetious way.
If I learned anything about Attila during this reading, it's that he liked to push buttons.
Overall, I had hoped for a bit more, but am appreciative of what I was able to glean about the Hungarian Revolution through this small and quick book. I wish primarily that I had gotten to know the supporting characters better than we were allowed, and more about the transition to Canada would have been nice as well since we did not really get to see much of that process if at all.
July 23, 2014
I really did not enjoy this book. While the story was well written, I found the two brothers very unlikable. The relationship between the two of them seemed very odd - not as much brothers as friends, and the way Attila spoke to Robert weirded me right out. The story felt like I had read it before - exile during WW2 - combined with confusing family "secrets" and the constant annoying questions and observances by Attila. Leave this on the shelf.
August 2, 2014
This is one of the most poignant, funny, poetic and gripping novels I have read in the last ten years. The harrowing yet hilarious tale of two brothers escaping Communist Hungary will make you laugh and make you cry. It will transport you as only the very best novel can. Here’s what two of my favorite authors, Anne Michaels and Tim O’Brien, have to say about this extraordinary and exceptional book:
"The Afterlife of Stars moved me more than any novel I've read in recent memory. It hypnotizes. It delights. It shines on every page with quiet, implacable, blanketing beauty -- like a snowfall. Beyond all else, The Afterlife of Stars reaches into your chest and takes hold of your heart and does not let go, not even after the last page is turned. The Afterlife of Stars keeps shining on. What an exquisite novel." Tim O'Brien
"We meet the Beck brothers at the very moment history lays its claim on
them. Their bond is sure to become one of literature's great and sustaining relationships. Joe Kertes writes with tremendous love for the idiosyncratic and passionate loyalties of family. With masterful concision, he expresses the trauma of an era. This is a book of remarkable scope and depth; unforgettable and deeply moving." Anne Michaels
"The Afterlife of Stars moved me more than any novel I've read in recent memory. It hypnotizes. It delights. It shines on every page with quiet, implacable, blanketing beauty -- like a snowfall. Beyond all else, The Afterlife of Stars reaches into your chest and takes hold of your heart and does not let go, not even after the last page is turned. The Afterlife of Stars keeps shining on. What an exquisite novel." Tim O'Brien
"We meet the Beck brothers at the very moment history lays its claim on
them. Their bond is sure to become one of literature's great and sustaining relationships. Joe Kertes writes with tremendous love for the idiosyncratic and passionate loyalties of family. With masterful concision, he expresses the trauma of an era. This is a book of remarkable scope and depth; unforgettable and deeply moving." Anne Michaels
July 12, 2017
There are not all that many books dealing with the Hungarian Revolution in 1956 and this was one of my reasons for reading it. That and the fact that when I was a Girl Scout, we had a young Hungarian man who had escaped from his country speak to us. While I don't remember the specifics of what he said I do remember being impressed with his bravery. So on to the book. I wasn't crazy about it and almost abandoned it a couple of times. The narrator, Robert, was just over 9 years old. His older brother, Attila, was a teenager and it was hard to like him. I tried to take into account all the horrors these young boys had seen and that helped some, but I still could not warm to this boy or to his father who had a terrible temper. The book begins as the boys' extended family is evicted from their home by the Russians and follows them across Europe to Paris where their great aunt Hermina, an opera singer, gives the family refuge. As if the tragedy of being evicted from their home were not enough, the family encounters tragedy again on their journey to safety. There are some beautifully written passages in this book. Great aunt Hermina: "Sometimes I feel more left behind than living." I wonder if that's how my aunt felt towards the end of her almost 99-year-old life. I wish I could have liked this book more.
February 4, 2017
I won this book in a Goodreads Giveaway.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend people read it.
This book is a beautifully told story centering on two young brothers and their family escaping a tumultuous Hungary as the Soviets invade and Their journey to a better life. The story is told with heartfelt poignancy and was extremely thought-provoking. The heavy subject matter was very well written and lightened by occasional humor.
Worth the read!
I thoroughly enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend people read it.
This book is a beautifully told story centering on two young brothers and their family escaping a tumultuous Hungary as the Soviets invade and Their journey to a better life. The story is told with heartfelt poignancy and was extremely thought-provoking. The heavy subject matter was very well written and lightened by occasional humor.
Worth the read!
April 29, 2016
There is a great story to be told here, but unfortunately the author doesn't really tell it. Instead he focuses on what ends up looking like the typical testosterone attack that is inflicted on the typical teenage boy by his own body. There are glimpses of the great story, but they are overwhelmed by the uninteresting.
July 14, 2016
Short and sweet, this is the story of a couple of brothers who found themselves fleeing the Russian occupied Hungary. They trudged through minefields along with their family to get to the Austrian border. They planned to head to Paris, where a relative awaits them. Through equal parts humour, horror, and refreshing wonder, the brothers would discover the importance of home as they struggle to accept immeasurable losses brought on by the war.
Incongruous humour.
For some reason, I can’t seem to move away from books set at a time of great strife. There is something about it that draws me in, and if I have to look closely, I think it has to do with curiosity, mostly; and wonder about how anyone can find hope, or would dare to dream when the world around them is literally in pieces. Though in Attila and Robert’s case, that may be easier to imagine. The boys talk about the most random things: the punitive quality of sperm as opposed to the bright, angry colour of blood. Especially when you consider that both fluid are equally important in the creation and sustenance of life. They talk about evolution; why God created things with an alarming, concise function. All the while, they are being showered by blood and falling limbs due to the land mines they were on. They witnessed their cousin gave birth on the grass and lose her life. Through these horrors, they never did show fear that readers would wonder exactly if they even have hearts, or if they simply were too young to realize the nightmare of their situations.
Sweet as candy.
Robert, the youngest, is made out to be someone effeminate instead of a prepubescent boy who fantasizes about what a girl’s lips would taste like. They treat him like a precious doll, and refer to him in the weirdest, sweetest endearment meant for a precious, little girl. Endearments such as: my one true love, my ever precious love, and my alabaster darling. These are just from his older brother. And considering that this book opened up as Robert and his grandma witnessed the hanging of 8 soldiers, it is of questionable wonder why the author would make Robert so viscerally detached from the nightmares around him.
The ramblings of a lost child?
I often got lost in the haze of Atilla’s babbles. He has an unending curiosity about the world around him. His theories and hypothesis about God and Science made me think, but it was as if the war, the deaths, the minefield were of no consequence to him.
In finem.
Funny, heartbreaking, and refreshingly honest, The Afterlife of Stars managed to inspire when there’s very little of hope to speak of, and if you wouldn’t mind reading about that kind of optimism, this would be the kind of novel to savour with a little bit of tolerance.
Incongruous humour.
For some reason, I can’t seem to move away from books set at a time of great strife. There is something about it that draws me in, and if I have to look closely, I think it has to do with curiosity, mostly; and wonder about how anyone can find hope, or would dare to dream when the world around them is literally in pieces. Though in Attila and Robert’s case, that may be easier to imagine. The boys talk about the most random things: the punitive quality of sperm as opposed to the bright, angry colour of blood. Especially when you consider that both fluid are equally important in the creation and sustenance of life. They talk about evolution; why God created things with an alarming, concise function. All the while, they are being showered by blood and falling limbs due to the land mines they were on. They witnessed their cousin gave birth on the grass and lose her life. Through these horrors, they never did show fear that readers would wonder exactly if they even have hearts, or if they simply were too young to realize the nightmare of their situations.
Sweet as candy.
Robert, the youngest, is made out to be someone effeminate instead of a prepubescent boy who fantasizes about what a girl’s lips would taste like. They treat him like a precious doll, and refer to him in the weirdest, sweetest endearment meant for a precious, little girl. Endearments such as: my one true love, my ever precious love, and my alabaster darling. These are just from his older brother. And considering that this book opened up as Robert and his grandma witnessed the hanging of 8 soldiers, it is of questionable wonder why the author would make Robert so viscerally detached from the nightmares around him.
The ramblings of a lost child?
I often got lost in the haze of Atilla’s babbles. He has an unending curiosity about the world around him. His theories and hypothesis about God and Science made me think, but it was as if the war, the deaths, the minefield were of no consequence to him.
In finem.
Funny, heartbreaking, and refreshingly honest, The Afterlife of Stars managed to inspire when there’s very little of hope to speak of, and if you wouldn’t mind reading about that kind of optimism, this would be the kind of novel to savour with a little bit of tolerance.
February 3, 2017
I gave up on this book about half way through as I didn't like it. I usually enjoy World War Two fiction but this novel starts in the middle of the story when a family are forced to leave their home. We don't know anything about the family and it's not put into historical context so if you don't know about Hungary and the war, you'll be confused. It is a micro focus on family and the minute by minute things they go through as shown through the eyes of a teenage boy. I realise a young narrator can't have a world view of events but I didn't want to read about girls and how babies are made. The whole thing lacked drama, drive and action. Sadly not one I can recommend.
January 23, 2017
Told from the perspective of a 9-year-old boy whose family was saved by Raoul Wallenberg during World War II and who are now desperately trying to escape Hungary after the 1956 revolution. The narrator was good and the writing was lyrical and moving at times but the plot was slow moving and rather strange. Though I was compelled to finish it.
September 2, 2014
An amazing, heartfelt and gripping read. Highly recommended!
October 10, 2014
The Afterlife of Stars is a remarkable book by a gifted author. A must read.
October 7, 2014
Highly recommended. Fantastic portrayal of siblings.
November 21, 2014
Recommended. Very satisfying read. Endearing characters. Boy narrator character charming.
September 7, 2017
4.5 for literary skill; 3.5 for short/shallow
It is difficult to decide if this work was cut short on purpose; also if the awful realities of what the hero's parents survived are made incidental on purpose. The latter seems the better explanation. A child's perspective on awful, grownup horrors, the better to contrast innocence with hyper-reality.
In any event, the writing is superb. Not a word out of place or superfluous.
It is difficult to decide if this work was cut short on purpose; also if the awful realities of what the hero's parents survived are made incidental on purpose. The latter seems the better explanation. A child's perspective on awful, grownup horrors, the better to contrast innocence with hyper-reality.
In any event, the writing is superb. Not a word out of place or superfluous.
June 25, 2017
The author uses the ignorance of a "9.8" year old narrator to disguise the fact that he doesn't know how to actually explain complexities. This book was so miserable I couldn't even get near halfway through. Don't even bother picking this up.
October 11, 2023
Not gonna lie, I almost put this one down after my 50 page rule, but I’m glad I stuck through it. Once I got in the groove, I enjoyed the way Kertes Delivered the story. Touching ending.
March 15, 2023
The Afterlife of Stars by Joseph Kertes
BIBLIOGRAPHIC DETAILS:
Print: COPYRIGHT: (Copyright © 2014 by Joseph Kertes) 1/1/1992; Little, Brown and Company; 1st Edition (January 10, 2017); ISBN 978-0316308113; PAGES 256; Unabridged (Amazon Hardcover)
Digital: COPYRIGHT: First U.S. ebook edition: January 2017; PUBLISHER: Little, Brown and Company, Hachette Book Group; ISBN 978-0-316-30813-7; PAGES 338; Unabridged (Overdrive, LAPL, Kindle edition)
*Audio: COPYRIGHT: 1/31/2017; ISBN: 9781478935209; PUBLISHER: Hachette Audio: DURATION: 06:57:11; PARTS: 7; File Size: 196915 KB; Unabridged (Overdrive LAPL)
Feature Film or tv: Not that I’m aware of.
SERIES: No
CHARACTERS: (Not comprehensive)
Mamu – Robert and Atilla’s Grandmother
Robert – Main character-8.9 year old boy
Atilla – Robert’s 13.7 year old brother
Lili – Robert’s Mother
Simon – Robert and Atilla’s Father
Hermina – Robert and Atilla’s Great Aunt
Andras – Simon’s cousin
Judit – Andras’s wife
SUMMARY/ EVALUATION:
How I picked it: I liked the cover when I saw it in print at the Newport Beach Friends of the Library bookstore, and the summary suggested I might learn a bit more about Hungary’s participation and revolt from the Soviet Bloc/Warsaw Pact.
What’s it about? A young 8 year old boy, Robert, experiencing the Hungarian Revolution-the invasion of Russians, bombing, hangings, and the families eviction from their home. They are not supposed to leave, but they decide to leave the country while they can and visit family in Paris, and then go on to America. Hardships occur at every turn, family history is revealed, and the world is seen, such as it is, through the eyes of this 8-year-old.
What did I think? Some of the descriptions kind of annoyed me—the child makes analogies that have no meaning for me. Like when he eats chocolate and it flows “brownly” down his throat. But I liked the characters and the relationship between the brothers. I felt the story was engaging. I suspect it is somewhat autobiographical.
AUTHOR:
Joseph Kertes
From Wikipedia- “Joseph Kertes (born 1951) is a writer who escaped from Hungary with his family to Canada after the revolution of 1956.
He studied English at York University and the University of Toronto, where he was encouraged in his writing by Irving Layton and Marshall McLuhan. Kertes founded Humber College's distinguished creative writing and comedy programs. He was for 15 years Humber's Dean of Creative and Performing Arts and was a recipient of numerous awards for teaching and innovation.
His first novel, Winter Tulips, won the Stephen Leacock Memorial Medal for Humour in 1989.[1] Boardwalk, his second novel, and two children's books, The Gift and The Red Corduroy Shirt, met with critical acclaim. Roddy Doyle said of Kertes's third novel, Gratitude (Penguin), that the story "grabbed me and wouldn't let go; I found it totally engrossing. It is a huge, sprawling novel, yet beautifully precise. Gratitude brings new life to well-known history, but the lasting strength of this wonderful book is its people, in all their flaws and glories. It is a massive achievement". Ha Jin described Gratitude as "a rich, grand novel. It reveals the complexity of human psychology and motivations. It shows the fate and the cruelty and generosity of human beings caught in the violence of history. Joseph Kertes writes with tremendous skill, strength, and passion, which make reading this book sheer pleasure. Stylistically and thematically, it is a remarkable achievement". Gratitude won a Canadian Jewish Book Award and the U.S. National Jewish Book Award for Fiction.[2][3]His novel, called The Afterlife of Stars, was a New York Times Book Editor's Choice. His latest novel, Last Impressions, was nominated for a City of Toronto Book Award and was a finalist for the Stephen Leacock Memorial Medal for Humour.
Kertes is also a frequent contributor to newspapers, like The Globe and Mail, and magazines, like The Walrus. A feature of his in The Walrus, called "The Truth About Lying", was nominated for a National Magazine Award. A story of his, "Records," was a finalist for a CBC Literary Award.
Kertes was named winner of the 2017 Harbourfront Festival Prize for outstanding contribution to literature and the world of letters.”
NARRATOR:
Tristan Morris
From Goodreads—" "Tristan Morris's voice acting is excellent- definitely someone to keep an eye on."
Tristan Morris began his voice over career in early 2011, and since then has trained with master teachers Scott Brick, Pat Fraley and Nancy Wolfson. Tristan has recorded over 20 audiobooks since he began working as a narrator in September 2012. He has been fortunate enough to work with a wonderful group of publishers including Random House, Harper Collins, Audible, Blackstone, Deyan Audio and Bee Audio. His commercial voiceover work has been used by companies such as Google. His work is featured in several media forms including national and local commercials, international app development and web instruction, as well as historical documentary and museum exhibits. His animation character voice work can be seen on The Hoard, a popular web series produced by Machimina. Tristan originally hails from Seattle, Washington and currently lives in Denver, Colorado where he runs the Chimæra Theatre Company with his wife Julie. He studied Theatre & Philosophy at Pacific Lutheran University and proceeded to earn his MFA in Acting from the New School for Drama in Manhattan. Tristan is a proud member of SAG-AFTRA.”
GENRE:
Fiction; Literature
SUBJECTS:
Hungarian Revolution of 1956 and aftermath; family; refugees; survival; escape; Russians
LOCATIONS:
Budapest, Hungary; Paris, France
TIME FRAME:
1956
DEDICATION:
“Dedicated to the memory of Raoul Wallenberg and Paul Hegedus and to the memory of my parents, Hilda and Paul”
EXCERPT:
"There was a pounding at the door, quite a commanding one, and we all turned in that direction, as if to understand what it meant. We followed my father into the vestibule and huddled behind him, except for my brother, who stood by his side. It was Attila who opened the door. A man, a soldier the size of a tree, stood outside. He had such an overgrowth of beard that he could have supplied a whole room of teenagers with all the tufts they needed. He barked something at us in Russian.
The red star gleamed from his furry officer’s cap. He barked something again, and Judit squeaked and held her stomach.
The tree man paused, but then he entered the vestibule, parted us, and stepped up to Judit. He stared at her, gazed down at her belly, then bent down to listen there. No one knew what to do. He pointed a long finger at her stomach. Andras was ready to lunge at the Russian, and so was my brother behind him. Judit whimpered.
The man laughed as he straightened all the way up again His mouth was like a jewel box, full of gold and glitter. He pushed past us and marched straight to our clock on the sideboard in the front room as if he knew right where it was. We followed him, and he waited for us to gather He pointed to the clock, circled his long brown finger a number of times past the 12, and motioned that we were all to leave. Then, to our relief, he marched out again and slammed the door.
“We have until three o’clock,” our father said to us. “And then we have to be gone.”
“For how long?” I asked him.
“We don’t know,” my grandmother said gently.
“For about two centuries,” Attila said, “before we check back in with them.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“They want us to get out,” Andras said. “Not out of the country.” We weren’t supposed to leave the country, weren’t allowed to, actually. We were just supposed to find lodgings elsewhere.
“But we’re not doing that,” Attila said.
“Be quiet,” our father said.
“We can’t leave now,” Judit said in a whisper. I could hardly hear her.
“We have to,” her husband said. “Now is our only chance.” The Hungarian rebels were rising up, he explained. There were breaks in the border. It would be the only time.
“But Andras,” our grandmother said, putting her arm around Judit.
My brother looked straight at me. “We’re leaving,” he insisted. “Forever. I told you—we’re going west.”
“Why can’t we just get the Russians to like us instead?” I asked.
Attila shook his head. “Lambkin, you’re not too bright.”
But my remark made Judit tear up. She embraced me and kissed me on the head before leaving with Andras.
The Russian was back within an hour, and he had brought other soldiers with him, two women and one man. But the original one with the beard was obviously overseeing the proceedings. They worked their way through our home more like movers than invaders. They acted as if we weren’t there. From the china cabinet, they carefully pulled out Herend porcelain cups, saucers and platters, and a silver sugar box and teapot, wrapping them in cloth before placing them in large canvas sacks. Attila and I watched from the sofa.
They took down the paintings one at a time, leaving rectangular blond ghosts on the gold wallpaper. The largest of these was called Christmas 1903. It depicted two women dressed in dark coats and fur hats, one bent over a walnut secretary desk, writing a letter, the other looking out and down at us. Between them stood a potted Christmas tree on a table, festooned with bright ribbons and baubles and a star at the top. I always wondered why such a cheerful tree did not manage to spread its joy to the dark women in the parlor, who had most likely decorated it. Now the women were gone, together with their tree.
One solitary picture still hung on the wall among the ghostly rectangles. It was a drawing done by my brother of a Spitfire fighter plane tearing through the skies, spitting impressive bursts of fire. In the corner of the picture was the sun, and it too fired off spikes instead of rays of light. It was a sketch Attila had done in school, and our mother had had it framed in gold and hung over the gilded clock, in the shape of a double-headed eagle on the sideboard, which stood guard over the room. The fierce-looking bird was the emblem of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
I had done a picture I knew my mother would like too, a watercolor of a weeping willow, but it was still at school. My teacher, Mrs. Molnar, had hung it up where the photographs of Stalin and Khrushchev hung, but on the opposite side of the classroom’s wall clock. My tree was surrounded by other trees that also wanted to weep. I had given them their own tears in many colors flying off the leaves. My classmate David thought the other trees might have been sweating after a run, but I explained my intent. A year before, I had done another picture, in crayon, of sunflowers. It wasn’t a field of sunflowers, exactly, but sunflower after sunflower, quite a few of them. My brother seemed to admire the picture. He said my flowers looked like the handiwork of God as a child, trying out designs for the sun. That wasn’t my intent either. I didn’t know where that picture got to, exactly.
One of the Russian women carrying a canvas bag looked at the Spitfire twice as she passed by us. We watched her closely. She removed her snug army cap to reveal straw-colored hair tied back tightly, giving her head the look of an onion. She paused by the drawing but walked on. The eagle watched with its four sharp eyes. On her third trip by, she picked up the eagle clock with a strong arm and wrapped it up like a mummy before bending over to make room for it in her heavy sack.
Attila studied the operation, kept glancing up at his own drawing in its precious frame, waited for her to leave our home with the sacks, and then tore off madly to our room.
I tiptoed to the dining room to see if the Russians had taken our bowl of rose cream chocolates. I cared less about the red crystal bowl than about the chocolates themselves. They were still there. I wondered if it would be all right to sit at the table and steal one. I took a chance. I peeled off the red foil wrapper and put the chocolate into my mouth whole, let its creamy sweet heart enjoy its new home. I didn’t want to chew, to take a single bite. I laid my cheek against the cool surface of the dining-room table. My grandmother had bought this table for my parents for their “wood” anniversary, she told me. She said it was made of walnut by Sebastyan Balaban, the famous furniture maker. He had told her it would last a thousand years. We had had it for eleven, just 1.1 percent of its life span, meaning some nice Russian family could enjoy meals and chocolates off it for 989 more years. I took another chocolate to eat in my room and one for my brother."
RATING:
3 stars
STARTED READING – FINISHED READING
2-25-2023 to 3-14-2023
BIBLIOGRAPHIC DETAILS:
Print: COPYRIGHT: (Copyright © 2014 by Joseph Kertes) 1/1/1992; Little, Brown and Company; 1st Edition (January 10, 2017); ISBN 978-0316308113; PAGES 256; Unabridged (Amazon Hardcover)
Digital: COPYRIGHT: First U.S. ebook edition: January 2017; PUBLISHER: Little, Brown and Company, Hachette Book Group; ISBN 978-0-316-30813-7; PAGES 338; Unabridged (Overdrive, LAPL, Kindle edition)
*Audio: COPYRIGHT: 1/31/2017; ISBN: 9781478935209; PUBLISHER: Hachette Audio: DURATION: 06:57:11; PARTS: 7; File Size: 196915 KB; Unabridged (Overdrive LAPL)
Feature Film or tv: Not that I’m aware of.
SERIES: No
CHARACTERS: (Not comprehensive)
Mamu – Robert and Atilla’s Grandmother
Robert – Main character-8.9 year old boy
Atilla – Robert’s 13.7 year old brother
Lili – Robert’s Mother
Simon – Robert and Atilla’s Father
Hermina – Robert and Atilla’s Great Aunt
Andras – Simon’s cousin
Judit – Andras’s wife
SUMMARY/ EVALUATION:
How I picked it: I liked the cover when I saw it in print at the Newport Beach Friends of the Library bookstore, and the summary suggested I might learn a bit more about Hungary’s participation and revolt from the Soviet Bloc/Warsaw Pact.
What’s it about? A young 8 year old boy, Robert, experiencing the Hungarian Revolution-the invasion of Russians, bombing, hangings, and the families eviction from their home. They are not supposed to leave, but they decide to leave the country while they can and visit family in Paris, and then go on to America. Hardships occur at every turn, family history is revealed, and the world is seen, such as it is, through the eyes of this 8-year-old.
What did I think? Some of the descriptions kind of annoyed me—the child makes analogies that have no meaning for me. Like when he eats chocolate and it flows “brownly” down his throat. But I liked the characters and the relationship between the brothers. I felt the story was engaging. I suspect it is somewhat autobiographical.
AUTHOR:
Joseph Kertes
From Wikipedia- “Joseph Kertes (born 1951) is a writer who escaped from Hungary with his family to Canada after the revolution of 1956.
He studied English at York University and the University of Toronto, where he was encouraged in his writing by Irving Layton and Marshall McLuhan. Kertes founded Humber College's distinguished creative writing and comedy programs. He was for 15 years Humber's Dean of Creative and Performing Arts and was a recipient of numerous awards for teaching and innovation.
His first novel, Winter Tulips, won the Stephen Leacock Memorial Medal for Humour in 1989.[1] Boardwalk, his second novel, and two children's books, The Gift and The Red Corduroy Shirt, met with critical acclaim. Roddy Doyle said of Kertes's third novel, Gratitude (Penguin), that the story "grabbed me and wouldn't let go; I found it totally engrossing. It is a huge, sprawling novel, yet beautifully precise. Gratitude brings new life to well-known history, but the lasting strength of this wonderful book is its people, in all their flaws and glories. It is a massive achievement". Ha Jin described Gratitude as "a rich, grand novel. It reveals the complexity of human psychology and motivations. It shows the fate and the cruelty and generosity of human beings caught in the violence of history. Joseph Kertes writes with tremendous skill, strength, and passion, which make reading this book sheer pleasure. Stylistically and thematically, it is a remarkable achievement". Gratitude won a Canadian Jewish Book Award and the U.S. National Jewish Book Award for Fiction.[2][3]His novel, called The Afterlife of Stars, was a New York Times Book Editor's Choice. His latest novel, Last Impressions, was nominated for a City of Toronto Book Award and was a finalist for the Stephen Leacock Memorial Medal for Humour.
Kertes is also a frequent contributor to newspapers, like The Globe and Mail, and magazines, like The Walrus. A feature of his in The Walrus, called "The Truth About Lying", was nominated for a National Magazine Award. A story of his, "Records," was a finalist for a CBC Literary Award.
Kertes was named winner of the 2017 Harbourfront Festival Prize for outstanding contribution to literature and the world of letters.”
NARRATOR:
Tristan Morris
From Goodreads—" "Tristan Morris's voice acting is excellent- definitely someone to keep an eye on."
Tristan Morris began his voice over career in early 2011, and since then has trained with master teachers Scott Brick, Pat Fraley and Nancy Wolfson. Tristan has recorded over 20 audiobooks since he began working as a narrator in September 2012. He has been fortunate enough to work with a wonderful group of publishers including Random House, Harper Collins, Audible, Blackstone, Deyan Audio and Bee Audio. His commercial voiceover work has been used by companies such as Google. His work is featured in several media forms including national and local commercials, international app development and web instruction, as well as historical documentary and museum exhibits. His animation character voice work can be seen on The Hoard, a popular web series produced by Machimina. Tristan originally hails from Seattle, Washington and currently lives in Denver, Colorado where he runs the Chimæra Theatre Company with his wife Julie. He studied Theatre & Philosophy at Pacific Lutheran University and proceeded to earn his MFA in Acting from the New School for Drama in Manhattan. Tristan is a proud member of SAG-AFTRA.”
GENRE:
Fiction; Literature
SUBJECTS:
Hungarian Revolution of 1956 and aftermath; family; refugees; survival; escape; Russians
LOCATIONS:
Budapest, Hungary; Paris, France
TIME FRAME:
1956
DEDICATION:
“Dedicated to the memory of Raoul Wallenberg and Paul Hegedus and to the memory of my parents, Hilda and Paul”
EXCERPT:
"There was a pounding at the door, quite a commanding one, and we all turned in that direction, as if to understand what it meant. We followed my father into the vestibule and huddled behind him, except for my brother, who stood by his side. It was Attila who opened the door. A man, a soldier the size of a tree, stood outside. He had such an overgrowth of beard that he could have supplied a whole room of teenagers with all the tufts they needed. He barked something at us in Russian.
The red star gleamed from his furry officer’s cap. He barked something again, and Judit squeaked and held her stomach.
The tree man paused, but then he entered the vestibule, parted us, and stepped up to Judit. He stared at her, gazed down at her belly, then bent down to listen there. No one knew what to do. He pointed a long finger at her stomach. Andras was ready to lunge at the Russian, and so was my brother behind him. Judit whimpered.
The man laughed as he straightened all the way up again His mouth was like a jewel box, full of gold and glitter. He pushed past us and marched straight to our clock on the sideboard in the front room as if he knew right where it was. We followed him, and he waited for us to gather He pointed to the clock, circled his long brown finger a number of times past the 12, and motioned that we were all to leave. Then, to our relief, he marched out again and slammed the door.
“We have until three o’clock,” our father said to us. “And then we have to be gone.”
“For how long?” I asked him.
“We don’t know,” my grandmother said gently.
“For about two centuries,” Attila said, “before we check back in with them.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“They want us to get out,” Andras said. “Not out of the country.” We weren’t supposed to leave the country, weren’t allowed to, actually. We were just supposed to find lodgings elsewhere.
“But we’re not doing that,” Attila said.
“Be quiet,” our father said.
“We can’t leave now,” Judit said in a whisper. I could hardly hear her.
“We have to,” her husband said. “Now is our only chance.” The Hungarian rebels were rising up, he explained. There were breaks in the border. It would be the only time.
“But Andras,” our grandmother said, putting her arm around Judit.
My brother looked straight at me. “We’re leaving,” he insisted. “Forever. I told you—we’re going west.”
“Why can’t we just get the Russians to like us instead?” I asked.
Attila shook his head. “Lambkin, you’re not too bright.”
But my remark made Judit tear up. She embraced me and kissed me on the head before leaving with Andras.
The Russian was back within an hour, and he had brought other soldiers with him, two women and one man. But the original one with the beard was obviously overseeing the proceedings. They worked their way through our home more like movers than invaders. They acted as if we weren’t there. From the china cabinet, they carefully pulled out Herend porcelain cups, saucers and platters, and a silver sugar box and teapot, wrapping them in cloth before placing them in large canvas sacks. Attila and I watched from the sofa.
They took down the paintings one at a time, leaving rectangular blond ghosts on the gold wallpaper. The largest of these was called Christmas 1903. It depicted two women dressed in dark coats and fur hats, one bent over a walnut secretary desk, writing a letter, the other looking out and down at us. Between them stood a potted Christmas tree on a table, festooned with bright ribbons and baubles and a star at the top. I always wondered why such a cheerful tree did not manage to spread its joy to the dark women in the parlor, who had most likely decorated it. Now the women were gone, together with their tree.
One solitary picture still hung on the wall among the ghostly rectangles. It was a drawing done by my brother of a Spitfire fighter plane tearing through the skies, spitting impressive bursts of fire. In the corner of the picture was the sun, and it too fired off spikes instead of rays of light. It was a sketch Attila had done in school, and our mother had had it framed in gold and hung over the gilded clock, in the shape of a double-headed eagle on the sideboard, which stood guard over the room. The fierce-looking bird was the emblem of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
I had done a picture I knew my mother would like too, a watercolor of a weeping willow, but it was still at school. My teacher, Mrs. Molnar, had hung it up where the photographs of Stalin and Khrushchev hung, but on the opposite side of the classroom’s wall clock. My tree was surrounded by other trees that also wanted to weep. I had given them their own tears in many colors flying off the leaves. My classmate David thought the other trees might have been sweating after a run, but I explained my intent. A year before, I had done another picture, in crayon, of sunflowers. It wasn’t a field of sunflowers, exactly, but sunflower after sunflower, quite a few of them. My brother seemed to admire the picture. He said my flowers looked like the handiwork of God as a child, trying out designs for the sun. That wasn’t my intent either. I didn’t know where that picture got to, exactly.
One of the Russian women carrying a canvas bag looked at the Spitfire twice as she passed by us. We watched her closely. She removed her snug army cap to reveal straw-colored hair tied back tightly, giving her head the look of an onion. She paused by the drawing but walked on. The eagle watched with its four sharp eyes. On her third trip by, she picked up the eagle clock with a strong arm and wrapped it up like a mummy before bending over to make room for it in her heavy sack.
Attila studied the operation, kept glancing up at his own drawing in its precious frame, waited for her to leave our home with the sacks, and then tore off madly to our room.
I tiptoed to the dining room to see if the Russians had taken our bowl of rose cream chocolates. I cared less about the red crystal bowl than about the chocolates themselves. They were still there. I wondered if it would be all right to sit at the table and steal one. I took a chance. I peeled off the red foil wrapper and put the chocolate into my mouth whole, let its creamy sweet heart enjoy its new home. I didn’t want to chew, to take a single bite. I laid my cheek against the cool surface of the dining-room table. My grandmother had bought this table for my parents for their “wood” anniversary, she told me. She said it was made of walnut by Sebastyan Balaban, the famous furniture maker. He had told her it would last a thousand years. We had had it for eleven, just 1.1 percent of its life span, meaning some nice Russian family could enjoy meals and chocolates off it for 989 more years. I took another chocolate to eat in my room and one for my brother."
RATING:
3 stars
STARTED READING – FINISHED READING
2-25-2023 to 3-14-2023
March 18, 2017
A great story taking place during the 1956 Hungarian uprising against the Russians. From the point of view of a young 9 1/2 year old you get a clear picture of life in Europe at this time and his close relationship with his older brother
February 6, 2017
Lyrical, tragic and life affirming are the elements of this novel. In 1956, as the Russian quash the Hungarian revolution, the Beck family escapes. The parents, older son, Attila and grandparents survived WWII due to the protection of Rauol Wallenberg and his assistant, Paul Beck, their cousin. As they travel from Budapest to Paris by way of Vienna, the boys, Attila, almost 14 and Robert almost 10 learn more about the family history during the war and its aftermath. Very well written and interesting
March 16, 2017
This was weird. Slow and meandering and if there was a plot in there I couldn't find it or care about it. Basically two weird brothers go on a not so interesting ride through Europe. I expected it to be a lot more interesting.
July 11, 2014
Giving this an extra star for Attila.
October 7, 2014
4 to 4.5 stars - Two young brothers (9 and 13) try to make sense of the world as they flee Hungary in 1956 with their family.
November 11, 2014
A challenging read in that it was difficult to relate to the narrator / main protagonist.
May 21, 2025
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for over 900 book reviews in all genres
Nine-year-old Robert is pulled out of school as Russian tanks roll into Budapest to crush the Hungarian revolution in 1956. A giant banner of Stalin is unfurled as he is led through the main square, where several men are hanged from lampposts, their tongues sticking out. He watches with his teenage brother Attila as the Hungarian rebels topple a statue of Stalin in a park.
In the night, the Russians order his Jewish family out of their home with only what they can carry, stripping the house of its contents before they have even left. They are lucky to trade all the jewelry they own for some seats at the overcrowded train station. At the Austrian border, everyone must disembark and walk across an empty field to the frightening sound of explosions. It is a field of landmines. They are processed and stay at a convent where his pregnant sister dies in childbirth, before moving on to France.
His great-aunt Hermina escaped to Paris years ago and welcomes them in. A star of the opera, her world is music, art, and history, although Robert would most like to know about his relative Paul Beck—the family secret he is too young to hear. Beck worked with Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg to forge false papers to help Jews and others escape the Germans in the Second World War. Hermina and her family were on a train to a camp when Beck produced identity papers claiming they were Swedish, forcing the Germans to release them. Wallenberg and Beck have not been seen since.
Seen through the eyes of a child, everything is an adventure. There is intensity and humor, but the reality is harsh—men are shot in front of Robert, and the minefield produced flying limbs. Paris seems safe, but there is lingering fear when the Russians remove his parents with sacks over their heads. What is a child to think?
There is a theme of flowing time and history. Statues are torn down to be replaced, only to be toppled by the next invaders.
Once they reach Paris, the plot disperses into family conversations, and I felt the momentum slip away. Based on the author's childhood it rings true, but I found it did not hold together in the end.
Joseph Kertes has won the Stephen Leacock Memorial Award and the US National Jewish Book Award.
for over 900 book reviews in all genres
Nine-year-old Robert is pulled out of school as Russian tanks roll into Budapest to crush the Hungarian revolution in 1956. A giant banner of Stalin is unfurled as he is led through the main square, where several men are hanged from lampposts, their tongues sticking out. He watches with his teenage brother Attila as the Hungarian rebels topple a statue of Stalin in a park.
In the night, the Russians order his Jewish family out of their home with only what they can carry, stripping the house of its contents before they have even left. They are lucky to trade all the jewelry they own for some seats at the overcrowded train station. At the Austrian border, everyone must disembark and walk across an empty field to the frightening sound of explosions. It is a field of landmines. They are processed and stay at a convent where his pregnant sister dies in childbirth, before moving on to France.
His great-aunt Hermina escaped to Paris years ago and welcomes them in. A star of the opera, her world is music, art, and history, although Robert would most like to know about his relative Paul Beck—the family secret he is too young to hear. Beck worked with Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg to forge false papers to help Jews and others escape the Germans in the Second World War. Hermina and her family were on a train to a camp when Beck produced identity papers claiming they were Swedish, forcing the Germans to release them. Wallenberg and Beck have not been seen since.
Seen through the eyes of a child, everything is an adventure. There is intensity and humor, but the reality is harsh—men are shot in front of Robert, and the minefield produced flying limbs. Paris seems safe, but there is lingering fear when the Russians remove his parents with sacks over their heads. What is a child to think?
There is a theme of flowing time and history. Statues are torn down to be replaced, only to be toppled by the next invaders.
Once they reach Paris, the plot disperses into family conversations, and I felt the momentum slip away. Based on the author's childhood it rings true, but I found it did not hold together in the end.
Joseph Kertes has won the Stephen Leacock Memorial Award and the US National Jewish Book Award.
July 7, 2025
This is nowhere near the poignant observation of humanity that this author thinks it is. I feel like this is a great example of a person (the writer) who has an impressive education and reputation and has lived a somewhat adventurous or difficult life and as a result no one has the willingness to point out what a go nowhere sloppy mess of a book he has produced.
This is a nothing plot with a bunch of barely connected implausible scenes wrapped around long stretches of nothing. I am sure there is a cultural divide, and the fact that the writer is not writing in his first language is probably also a factor but this is poorly written as well. Characters constantly jumping up in a rage then doing nothing, performing really awkwardly phrased actions. It is a mess.
Also, I don't know too many brothers who call each other "my one true love" and "raven haired beauty" just by example of a few of the phrases. So that felt weird.
Another book where most of the girls are super hot and most of them also seem to want to hook up with underage boys I guess. One seen has the adult maid offering her breasts in a sexual fashion to both brothers at the same time, one boob each, they are aged 13 and 10 by the way.
Later the boys rescue a wayward victim and encounter a gang of unruly French boys, like what kind of 12 year old script writing nonsense is this?
As a final kick in the nuts, whoever wrote the book jacket did a good job making it seem like this would be good. So well done him. But this book is not interesting, it is not insightful and it sure as hell is not funny despite its claims.
Really a terrible book, badly written. Someone should have told this guy to re-write or burn this. I don't understand why so many books this awful not only get published, but people like Tim O'Brien say that are good. Publishing world is a nightmare.
This is a nothing plot with a bunch of barely connected implausible scenes wrapped around long stretches of nothing. I am sure there is a cultural divide, and the fact that the writer is not writing in his first language is probably also a factor but this is poorly written as well. Characters constantly jumping up in a rage then doing nothing, performing really awkwardly phrased actions. It is a mess.
Also, I don't know too many brothers who call each other "my one true love" and "raven haired beauty" just by example of a few of the phrases. So that felt weird.
Another book where most of the girls are super hot and most of them also seem to want to hook up with underage boys I guess. One seen has the adult maid offering her breasts in a sexual fashion to both brothers at the same time, one boob each, they are aged 13 and 10 by the way.
Later the boys rescue a wayward victim and encounter a gang of unruly French boys, like what kind of 12 year old script writing nonsense is this?
As a final kick in the nuts, whoever wrote the book jacket did a good job making it seem like this would be good. So well done him. But this book is not interesting, it is not insightful and it sure as hell is not funny despite its claims.
Really a terrible book, badly written. Someone should have told this guy to re-write or burn this. I don't understand why so many books this awful not only get published, but people like Tim O'Brien say that are good. Publishing world is a nightmare.
December 21, 2018
It's somewhat difficult to comment on this book, even though I found it engaging and easy to read.
The problem seems to be that I needed time to decide what it's about.
It's not about the ill-fated 1956 Hungarian uprising, although that sets the stage.
It's not even about the family displaced by that event, including the young narrator or his very inquisitive big brother.
And I also don't think it's about the family's long-held secrets that the brother begins uncovering.
All the above, and the various people they meet and places they go, feels like the haphazard stuff of life, as opposed to a carefully assembled sequence designed to drive home some conclusion.
I finally decided the author is preoccupied by a concept represented by the toppled statue of Stalin, and then by the junkyard of other statues of heroes who're no longer convenient. (In recent years the US has been busy getting rid of its own statues.) That concept is also represented by the blank face of the young man hanging from the lamp post, the man who'd combed his hair so carefully on the day he ended up dying, and also by Paul and everyone else who has become absent.
That is to say, I think it's a mediation on the very short interval in which any of us is present, and the impossibility of knowing anything about those who are gone, and also maybe in view of that it questions the meaning or value of our incessant striving, much of which seems about as effective as the Hungarian uprising.
Babette, on the other hand, asks nothing and gives all. Her placid, kind-hearted nurturing makes her by far the most appealing character in the narrative. Her role may be to show the right way to live, given the impermanence and apparent pointlessness of everything.
The problem seems to be that I needed time to decide what it's about.
It's not about the ill-fated 1956 Hungarian uprising, although that sets the stage.
It's not even about the family displaced by that event, including the young narrator or his very inquisitive big brother.
And I also don't think it's about the family's long-held secrets that the brother begins uncovering.
All the above, and the various people they meet and places they go, feels like the haphazard stuff of life, as opposed to a carefully assembled sequence designed to drive home some conclusion.
I finally decided the author is preoccupied by a concept represented by the toppled statue of Stalin, and then by the junkyard of other statues of heroes who're no longer convenient. (In recent years the US has been busy getting rid of its own statues.) That concept is also represented by the blank face of the young man hanging from the lamp post, the man who'd combed his hair so carefully on the day he ended up dying, and also by Paul and everyone else who has become absent.
That is to say, I think it's a mediation on the very short interval in which any of us is present, and the impossibility of knowing anything about those who are gone, and also maybe in view of that it questions the meaning or value of our incessant striving, much of which seems about as effective as the Hungarian uprising.
Babette, on the other hand, asks nothing and gives all. Her placid, kind-hearted nurturing makes her by far the most appealing character in the narrative. Her role may be to show the right way to live, given the impermanence and apparent pointlessness of everything.
October 7, 2021
The first section was the most interesting to me as a very realistic description of the Russian invasion of Budapest. I've ordered a used copy to review some of the details.
During my reading/listening, i kept asking questions of a family member who was there. He remembered many of the same scenes and hopeful emotions during the revolution, but didn't live in a wealthy home in central BP, so not ejected or robbed.
He also took the train from the same station, was put off when it couldn't/t go further, then escaped thru' a mine field into Austria, but directed by a local farmer whom he and his friends and others hired a guide. He had to carry the child of a family escaping with them, so was pretty relieved when they knew they had made it by signs in German in a village and a group waiting for them in the square.
After crossing the border, they were also given chocolates, toothpaste, etc and were bused to San Poulten, a former Austrian military base. He tasted his first banana, orange, etc. from a shop in the village, as fish was the main menu at the refugee camp since Norway was donating food. The base was used to house refugees while they signed up for various countries, were interviewed, given physicals, etc and waited to be called --the US took the longest and had very stringent interviews and physicals at a base where they were bused.
The rest of the book was a bit strange and very sad, but interesting --not sure why the parents were grabbed and then let go. It seemed very realistic and i kept wondering if it were a memoir or taken from interviews --haven't seen an author's note, but will keep looking. (btw, I had a very interesting tour of the famous Paris sewer system a few years ago, and while it didn't smell good, it was more unusual than disgusting, so I'd recommend it.)
I think if it had a more descriptive and meaningful title, it would have attracted more readers
The narrator was good IMO except near the end he mispronounced a very common Hungarian name --Sandor, which was disappointing.
Audio Overdrive @ normal speed
During my reading/listening, i kept asking questions of a family member who was there. He remembered many of the same scenes and hopeful emotions during the revolution, but didn't live in a wealthy home in central BP, so not ejected or robbed.
He also took the train from the same station, was put off when it couldn't/t go further, then escaped thru' a mine field into Austria, but directed by a local farmer whom he and his friends and others hired a guide. He had to carry the child of a family escaping with them, so was pretty relieved when they knew they had made it by signs in German in a village and a group waiting for them in the square.
After crossing the border, they were also given chocolates, toothpaste, etc and were bused to San Poulten, a former Austrian military base. He tasted his first banana, orange, etc. from a shop in the village, as fish was the main menu at the refugee camp since Norway was donating food. The base was used to house refugees while they signed up for various countries, were interviewed, given physicals, etc and waited to be called --the US took the longest and had very stringent interviews and physicals at a base where they were bused.
The rest of the book was a bit strange and very sad, but interesting --not sure why the parents were grabbed and then let go. It seemed very realistic and i kept wondering if it were a memoir or taken from interviews --haven't seen an author's note, but will keep looking. (btw, I had a very interesting tour of the famous Paris sewer system a few years ago, and while it didn't smell good, it was more unusual than disgusting, so I'd recommend it.)
I think if it had a more descriptive and meaningful title, it would have attracted more readers
The narrator was good IMO except near the end he mispronounced a very common Hungarian name --Sandor, which was disappointing.
Audio Overdrive @ normal speed
July 29, 2017
[Mark Twain and] I like this book because it has no weather in it. But it does feature Mark
"himself" when one of the doting relatives gives the brothers a set of Huck and Tom.
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This is a fine book: for me, a one sitting. It's the story of an extended Beck family fleeing foreign oppression, some from Hitler and, later, some from Stalin. Escape, adventure, mystery, discovery,
loss--a welter of questions and dubious outcomes. Where are we going? How? How long ? How will we survive? Young Robert queries older brother Attila (infant terrible!), who in turn questions everything. His probing reveals an inheritance of defiance. The light of his forebears reaches him,
as his own light does those who follow him in time. Starlight outlasts its source, is its afterlife.
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Personally, I find Attila mostly insufferable, especially in the catalog of challenges to the priestly platitudes at the convent-cum-hostel. His performance would stymie the most disputatious rabbi
of old. (I allow for teen hubris and antipathy to convention.) Another annoyance is his attaching
condescending epithets to Robert, mimicking Mother and mocking Brother. (Mea culpa too, maybe.)
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Lyrical in its straightforward prose, the story touches the heart without even a hint of purple.
"himself" when one of the doting relatives gives the brothers a set of Huck and Tom.
******************************************************************************
This is a fine book: for me, a one sitting. It's the story of an extended Beck family fleeing foreign oppression, some from Hitler and, later, some from Stalin. Escape, adventure, mystery, discovery,
loss--a welter of questions and dubious outcomes. Where are we going? How? How long ? How will we survive? Young Robert queries older brother Attila (infant terrible!), who in turn questions everything. His probing reveals an inheritance of defiance. The light of his forebears reaches him,
as his own light does those who follow him in time. Starlight outlasts its source, is its afterlife.
******************************************************************************
Personally, I find Attila mostly insufferable, especially in the catalog of challenges to the priestly platitudes at the convent-cum-hostel. His performance would stymie the most disputatious rabbi
of old. (I allow for teen hubris and antipathy to convention.) Another annoyance is his attaching
condescending epithets to Robert, mimicking Mother and mocking Brother. (Mea culpa too, maybe.)
******************************************************************************
Lyrical in its straightforward prose, the story touches the heart without even a hint of purple.
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