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Föld, föld!...
This scathing, humorous, and insightful memoir by exiled Hungarian novelist Sandor Marai provides one of the most poignant and humanly alive portraits of life in Hungary between the German occupation and the solidification of communist power.
623 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1971
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About the author
Sándor Márai
182 books1,203 followersSándor Márai (originally Sándor Károly Henrik Grosschmied de Mára) was a Hungarian writer and journalist.
He was born in the city of Kassa in Austria-Hungary (now Košice in Slovakia) to an old family of Saxon origin who had mixed with magyars through the centuries. Through his father he was a relative of the Ország-family. In his early years, Márai travelled to and lived in Frankfurt, Berlin, and Paris and briefly considered writing in German, but eventually chose his mother language, Hungarian, for his writings. He settled in Krisztinaváros, Budapest, in 1928. In the 1930s, he gained prominence with a precise and clear realist style. He was the first person to write reviews of the work of Kafka.
He wrote very enthusiastically about the Vienna Awards, in which Germany forced Czechoslovakia and Romania to give back part of the territories which Hungary lost in the Treaty of Trianon. Nevertheless, Márai was highly critical of the Nazis as such and was considered "profoundly antifascist," a dangerous position to take in wartime Hungary.
Marai authored forty-six books, mostly novels, and was considered by literary critics to be one of Hungary's most influential representatives of middle class literature between the two world wars. His 1942 book Embers (Hungarian title: A gyertyák csonkig égnek, meaning "The Candles Burn Down to the Stump") expresses a nostalgia for the bygone multi-ethnic, multicultural society of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, reminiscent of the works of Joseph Roth. In 2006 an adaptation of this novel for the stage, written by Christopher Hampton, was performed in London.
He also disliked the Communist regime that seized power after World War II, and left – or was driven away – in 1948. After living for some time in Italy, Márai settled in the city of San Diego, California, in the United States.
He continued to write in his native language, but was not published in English until the mid-1990s. Márai's Memoir of Hungary (1944-1948) provides an interesting glimpse of post World War II Hungary under Soviet occupation. Like other memoirs by Hungarian writers and statesmen, it was first published in the West, because it could not be published in the Hungary of the post-1956 Kádár era. The English version of the memoir was published posthumously in 1996. After his wife died, Márai retreated more and more into isolation. He committed suicide by a gunshot to his head in San Diego in 1989.
Largely forgotten outside of Hungary, his work (consisting of poems, novels, and diaries) has only been recently "rediscovered" and republished in French (starting in 1992), Polish, Catalan, Italian, English, German, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Danish, Icelandic, Korean, Dutch, and other languages too, and is now considered to be part of the European Twentieth Century literary canon.
He was born in the city of Kassa in Austria-Hungary (now Košice in Slovakia) to an old family of Saxon origin who had mixed with magyars through the centuries. Through his father he was a relative of the Ország-family. In his early years, Márai travelled to and lived in Frankfurt, Berlin, and Paris and briefly considered writing in German, but eventually chose his mother language, Hungarian, for his writings. He settled in Krisztinaváros, Budapest, in 1928. In the 1930s, he gained prominence with a precise and clear realist style. He was the first person to write reviews of the work of Kafka.
He wrote very enthusiastically about the Vienna Awards, in which Germany forced Czechoslovakia and Romania to give back part of the territories which Hungary lost in the Treaty of Trianon. Nevertheless, Márai was highly critical of the Nazis as such and was considered "profoundly antifascist," a dangerous position to take in wartime Hungary.
Marai authored forty-six books, mostly novels, and was considered by literary critics to be one of Hungary's most influential representatives of middle class literature between the two world wars. His 1942 book Embers (Hungarian title: A gyertyák csonkig égnek, meaning "The Candles Burn Down to the Stump") expresses a nostalgia for the bygone multi-ethnic, multicultural society of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, reminiscent of the works of Joseph Roth. In 2006 an adaptation of this novel for the stage, written by Christopher Hampton, was performed in London.
He also disliked the Communist regime that seized power after World War II, and left – or was driven away – in 1948. After living for some time in Italy, Márai settled in the city of San Diego, California, in the United States.
He continued to write in his native language, but was not published in English until the mid-1990s. Márai's Memoir of Hungary (1944-1948) provides an interesting glimpse of post World War II Hungary under Soviet occupation. Like other memoirs by Hungarian writers and statesmen, it was first published in the West, because it could not be published in the Hungary of the post-1956 Kádár era. The English version of the memoir was published posthumously in 1996. After his wife died, Márai retreated more and more into isolation. He committed suicide by a gunshot to his head in San Diego in 1989.
Largely forgotten outside of Hungary, his work (consisting of poems, novels, and diaries) has only been recently "rediscovered" and republished in French (starting in 1992), Polish, Catalan, Italian, English, German, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Danish, Icelandic, Korean, Dutch, and other languages too, and is now considered to be part of the European Twentieth Century literary canon.
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July 23, 2025
A memoir can capture much regarding its writer’s sensibilities, and can convey just as much with regard to the place, time, and social reality in which the writer lived. Sándor Márai’s Memoir of Hungary, 1944-1948 (1996) certainly does both, as it captures life in Hungary during one of the most turbulent times in Hungarian history.
Márai, a prolific novelist, critiqued in novels like Embers (1942) the smugness and intellectual aridity he saw in the Hungarian middle class. In Memoir of Hungary, by contrast, there is not much time to focus on things like whether bourgeois Budapestians are eating too much and drinking too much and buying too much: there are more immediate concerns at work here. Márai describes well what he saw unfolding in Budapest as his city and country moved from the horrors of the Second World War to Soviet occupation and the imposition of a communist regime controlled from Moscow.
The book begins in March 1944, when Hungary is still under Nazi occupation. The surrealistic, did-that-person-really-just-say-that-thing quality that is sometimes at work in Márai novels like Embers is very much at work here, particularly in a scene at a “name-day” family gathering where a pro-Nazi relative praises Márai’s novelistic talents but then says, “Now it’s about us, the untalented….Our time has come!” (p. 27) What Márai writes here fits well with what I’ve read elsewhere regarding the kind of people who were drawn to Nazism and became the most fanatically loyal Nazis.
Very quickly, however, the book’s action moves to the fighting around Budapest in late 1944. Márai lived in Buda, the hilly older part of Budapest that is west of the Danube River; and Márai’s Castle Hill neighbourhood of Buda became a battleground, as Soviet forces fought to dislodge Germans (and their Hungarian allies) who had been ordered by Hitler to hold Budapest at all costs. To get a sense of how intense the fighting was, check out the old Ministry of Military Defence building on Castle Hill, next time you are in that part of Budapest; the pockmarks of bullet holes all over the building provide eloquent and silent expression of how desperate the fighting there was.
Eventually, of course, the Germans retreated and the Soviets rolled in. Márai provides hair-raising descriptions of how systematically the Red Army troops despoiled ordinary Hungarians of their money and valuables; even Hungarians who self-identified as Jewish, and therefore had been one-time targets of the Nazis, were not safe from being robbed. Márai found that identifying himself as писатель, pisatel, a writer, got him a sort of provisional exemption from being designated as part of the “bourgeois” class enemy.
Other, less fortunate Hungarians might face arrest and transportation to “the infamous house at 60 Andrássy Road, in the cellar of the Communist State Security Police” (p. 109), for something as simple as having edited a Catholic newspaper. (Today, the building at 60 Andrássy Road is a museum, the Terror Háza Múzeum or House of Terror Museum.) Márai meanwhile took care to stay out of trouble, and found that simply being able to retreat into a bit of private time and space, amidst the chaos of Soviet-occupied Budapest, was something of a personal victory. “In this situation,” he writes, “privacy was the great, the only luxury” (p. 103).
By the winter of 1945, Márai writes, Hungarian society was changing, becoming more authoritarian, as indicated by the appearance on the streets of Budapest and other cities of “an amazingly grotesque figure: the Man in Uniform” (p. 206). Márai describes how quickly ordinary Hungarians came to see, in the person of the Man in Uniform, the state officer who “held sway over life and death. At a wave of his hand, the myrmidons of the summarily organized national security squads carried off to notorious cellars everyone he pointed to. He did what he wanted to” (p. 200).
The establishment of a climate of fear that governed the lives of ordinary Hungarians was complemented by a larger economic and political system through which the Soviet Union, during the postwar period, robbed Hungary of its resources and established an imperial hold over the country. Hungary continued to fly its red-white-and-green flag (with socialist regalia added at the center), but became a republic of the U.S.S.R. in everything but name.
Márai left Hungary once for the West, but then, he recalls, returned, he recalls that “I returned home from the West because I wanted to write in Hungarian freely.” He adds, however, that “I quickly learned that there was no longer a way to do this” (p. 303). Over the next 18 months, Márai came to understand that the communist rulers of Hungary not only would not let him speak his mind, but also would not allow him to be silent; he would have to be either a spokesman for, or an enemy of, the regime. Therefore, when he had another opportunity to travel internationally, he seized the chance to leave Hungary permanently and settle in the West – with, he writes, a sense that the regime was glad to see the back of him.
I’m just glad that Márai – who died in San Diego, California, U.S.A., in 1989 – lived long enough to see the beginnings of the end of Marxist-Leninist authoritarianism in his beloved home country.
Márai’s prose style is not for the faint of heart. It is heavy, dense, laden with sometimes abstruse references. It is good that Albert Tezla, the editor of this Corvina Books edition of Márai’s memoir, provides extensive footnotes to help explain Márai’s many allusions.
In, for example, those early passages of Memoir of Hungary where Márai looks back at his retreat from active life during the early months of the Soviet occupation, he writes that “My own j’ai vecu was exceedingly inconsequential” (p. 108). Editor Tezla hastens to explain that j’ai vecu, “I stayed alive,” was a statement by Emmanuel Joseph Sieyès, an 18th-century French clergyman “whose concept of popular sovereignty guided the French bourgeoisie in their struggle against the monarchy and nobility early in the French Revolution”; the reason Sieyès eventually spoke the phrase j’ai vecu was that “During the Reign of Terror, [Sieyès] withdrew from the political scene” (p. 405).
The historical parallels that motivated Márai to write this passage become apparent here: Márai was a dedicated opponent of Nazi tyranny, and he also opposed the totalitarianism of the communists, but in post-World War II Budapest he found that he could do little more than withdraw from public life. I found editor Tezla’s explanatory footnotes quite helpful here and elsewhere.
Memoir of Hungary, 1944-1948 is not an easy book, but it provides a powerful look back at the end of the Second World War and the beginnings of the Cold War in a strategically important nation of Eastern Europe.
Márai, a prolific novelist, critiqued in novels like Embers (1942) the smugness and intellectual aridity he saw in the Hungarian middle class. In Memoir of Hungary, by contrast, there is not much time to focus on things like whether bourgeois Budapestians are eating too much and drinking too much and buying too much: there are more immediate concerns at work here. Márai describes well what he saw unfolding in Budapest as his city and country moved from the horrors of the Second World War to Soviet occupation and the imposition of a communist regime controlled from Moscow.
The book begins in March 1944, when Hungary is still under Nazi occupation. The surrealistic, did-that-person-really-just-say-that-thing quality that is sometimes at work in Márai novels like Embers is very much at work here, particularly in a scene at a “name-day” family gathering where a pro-Nazi relative praises Márai’s novelistic talents but then says, “Now it’s about us, the untalented….Our time has come!” (p. 27) What Márai writes here fits well with what I’ve read elsewhere regarding the kind of people who were drawn to Nazism and became the most fanatically loyal Nazis.
Very quickly, however, the book’s action moves to the fighting around Budapest in late 1944. Márai lived in Buda, the hilly older part of Budapest that is west of the Danube River; and Márai’s Castle Hill neighbourhood of Buda became a battleground, as Soviet forces fought to dislodge Germans (and their Hungarian allies) who had been ordered by Hitler to hold Budapest at all costs. To get a sense of how intense the fighting was, check out the old Ministry of Military Defence building on Castle Hill, next time you are in that part of Budapest; the pockmarks of bullet holes all over the building provide eloquent and silent expression of how desperate the fighting there was.
Eventually, of course, the Germans retreated and the Soviets rolled in. Márai provides hair-raising descriptions of how systematically the Red Army troops despoiled ordinary Hungarians of their money and valuables; even Hungarians who self-identified as Jewish, and therefore had been one-time targets of the Nazis, were not safe from being robbed. Márai found that identifying himself as писатель, pisatel, a writer, got him a sort of provisional exemption from being designated as part of the “bourgeois” class enemy.
Other, less fortunate Hungarians might face arrest and transportation to “the infamous house at 60 Andrássy Road, in the cellar of the Communist State Security Police” (p. 109), for something as simple as having edited a Catholic newspaper. (Today, the building at 60 Andrássy Road is a museum, the Terror Háza Múzeum or House of Terror Museum.) Márai meanwhile took care to stay out of trouble, and found that simply being able to retreat into a bit of private time and space, amidst the chaos of Soviet-occupied Budapest, was something of a personal victory. “In this situation,” he writes, “privacy was the great, the only luxury” (p. 103).
By the winter of 1945, Márai writes, Hungarian society was changing, becoming more authoritarian, as indicated by the appearance on the streets of Budapest and other cities of “an amazingly grotesque figure: the Man in Uniform” (p. 206). Márai describes how quickly ordinary Hungarians came to see, in the person of the Man in Uniform, the state officer who “held sway over life and death. At a wave of his hand, the myrmidons of the summarily organized national security squads carried off to notorious cellars everyone he pointed to. He did what he wanted to” (p. 200).
The establishment of a climate of fear that governed the lives of ordinary Hungarians was complemented by a larger economic and political system through which the Soviet Union, during the postwar period, robbed Hungary of its resources and established an imperial hold over the country. Hungary continued to fly its red-white-and-green flag (with socialist regalia added at the center), but became a republic of the U.S.S.R. in everything but name.
Márai left Hungary once for the West, but then, he recalls, returned, he recalls that “I returned home from the West because I wanted to write in Hungarian freely.” He adds, however, that “I quickly learned that there was no longer a way to do this” (p. 303). Over the next 18 months, Márai came to understand that the communist rulers of Hungary not only would not let him speak his mind, but also would not allow him to be silent; he would have to be either a spokesman for, or an enemy of, the regime. Therefore, when he had another opportunity to travel internationally, he seized the chance to leave Hungary permanently and settle in the West – with, he writes, a sense that the regime was glad to see the back of him.
I’m just glad that Márai – who died in San Diego, California, U.S.A., in 1989 – lived long enough to see the beginnings of the end of Marxist-Leninist authoritarianism in his beloved home country.
Márai’s prose style is not for the faint of heart. It is heavy, dense, laden with sometimes abstruse references. It is good that Albert Tezla, the editor of this Corvina Books edition of Márai’s memoir, provides extensive footnotes to help explain Márai’s many allusions.
In, for example, those early passages of Memoir of Hungary where Márai looks back at his retreat from active life during the early months of the Soviet occupation, he writes that “My own j’ai vecu was exceedingly inconsequential” (p. 108). Editor Tezla hastens to explain that j’ai vecu, “I stayed alive,” was a statement by Emmanuel Joseph Sieyès, an 18th-century French clergyman “whose concept of popular sovereignty guided the French bourgeoisie in their struggle against the monarchy and nobility early in the French Revolution”; the reason Sieyès eventually spoke the phrase j’ai vecu was that “During the Reign of Terror, [Sieyès] withdrew from the political scene” (p. 405).
The historical parallels that motivated Márai to write this passage become apparent here: Márai was a dedicated opponent of Nazi tyranny, and he also opposed the totalitarianism of the communists, but in post-World War II Budapest he found that he could do little more than withdraw from public life. I found editor Tezla’s explanatory footnotes quite helpful here and elsewhere.
Memoir of Hungary, 1944-1948 is not an easy book, but it provides a powerful look back at the end of the Second World War and the beginnings of the Cold War in a strategically important nation of Eastern Europe.
December 12, 2011
Sándor Márai’s Memoir of Hungary, 1944-1948 captures life in Hungary during one of the most turbulent times in Hungary’s history. Márai, a prolific novelist who critiqued in his novels the smugness and intellectual aridity he saw in the Hungarian middle class, describes well in this book what he saw unfolding in Budapest as his city and country moved from the horrors of the Second World War to Soviet occupation and the imposition of a communist regime controlled from Moscow. The book begins in March 1944, when Hungary is still under Nazi occupation. Very quickly, however, the book’s action moves to the fighting around Budapest in late 1944, when Márai’s Buda neighborhood became a battleground as Soviet forces fought to dislodge Germans (and their Hungarian allies) who had been ordered by Hitler to hold Budapest at all costs. Over the course of the book, Márai describes how he saw the Soviets, during the postwar period, robbing Hungary of its resources and establishing an imperial hold over the country. Márai left Hungary once for the West, but then returned, determined to continue his literary career in his own country, writing in his own language. Only when he realized that the communist rulers of Hungary not only would not let him speak his mind, but also would not allow him to be silent, did he seize the chance to leave Hungary permanently and settle in the West. Márai’s prose style – heavy, dense, laden with sometimes abstruse references – is not for the faint of heart. Yet the book provides a powerful look back at the end of World War II and the beginnings of the Cold War.
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October 23, 2022Márai’s ‘Memoir of Hungary’ neatly fills a chronological gap between Krisztián Ungváry’s ‘The Siege of Budapest’ and György Faludy’s ‘My Happy Days In Hell’.
His main theme is the impact of communism on writing and the middle classes which he examines through the prism of language and recent history from the Ausgleich of 1867, through Béla Kun and Horthy to the Arrow Cross. He weaves books into this cataclysm of unmitigated disasters. So we’re given the Bards of Wales in its proper context, along with a literary critique of Moricz, Kosztolányi and Krudy etc.
Written in the 70s it benefits enormously from the intervening 20+ years in which his exile was vindicated by the subsequent tyranny and ‘engineering of human souls’, whilst still providing the clarity and immediacy of a journal.
It is the books that I’ll remember most about reading Memoir of Hungary. Back in ‘96 I saw a homeless man sitting on a bench in Hunyadi square wrapped up in an old overcoat. Nothing remarkable about him, just another the wrong side of 40 that communism had dumped in the trash unprepared for the return of a market driven economy. He was engrossed in a plum coloured, leather bound book and I stopped to wonder at what I can now see was his refuge. Books help enable the retreat into internal exile and here was another human in exile a few steps from Andrássy út.
This is a must read for anyone who wants to expand their knowledge of Hungary.
His main theme is the impact of communism on writing and the middle classes which he examines through the prism of language and recent history from the Ausgleich of 1867, through Béla Kun and Horthy to the Arrow Cross. He weaves books into this cataclysm of unmitigated disasters. So we’re given the Bards of Wales in its proper context, along with a literary critique of Moricz, Kosztolányi and Krudy etc.
Written in the 70s it benefits enormously from the intervening 20+ years in which his exile was vindicated by the subsequent tyranny and ‘engineering of human souls’, whilst still providing the clarity and immediacy of a journal.
It is the books that I’ll remember most about reading Memoir of Hungary. Back in ‘96 I saw a homeless man sitting on a bench in Hunyadi square wrapped up in an old overcoat. Nothing remarkable about him, just another the wrong side of 40 that communism had dumped in the trash unprepared for the return of a market driven economy. He was engrossed in a plum coloured, leather bound book and I stopped to wonder at what I can now see was his refuge. Books help enable the retreat into internal exile and here was another human in exile a few steps from Andrássy út.
This is a must read for anyone who wants to expand their knowledge of Hungary.
October 10, 2011
How rare to read a chronicle of the invasion of a country that is so even-handed and insightful. Marai Sandor kept diaries during the invasion of Hungary, first by the Germans, then by the Russians. His book covers the siege of Budapest, and the eventual Communist takeover of the Hungarian government and his subsequent exile. A fascinating and informative read for anyone interested in this period. (And I hardly ever read non-fiction!)
March 31, 2018
Terminé la lectura en la madrugada de este domingo...y dejé pasar el resto de la noche y esta media mañana para hacer un comentario. Creo que no elegí el mejor momento político de Latinoamérica para leerlo.
Normalmente los libros, mientras los leemos nos sacan de la realidad y al terminar se siente que uno "cae" a tierra de nuevo. Con éste en cambio me sucedió que cada renglón leído, cada capítulo que avanzaba no me dejaba salir de la realidad. Es como si cada frase fuese un revolcón en la realidad que atravesamos en la sociedad uruguaya en particular y en toda América. Cambian los colores de los gobiernos, el que llega desplaza a uno "malo" y se aboca de inmediato a hacer lo "mismo". Y luego comparan quién fue menos malo dejando un vacío "peligroso" en los ciudadanos.
He leído otras obras del autor, sé de su estilo con un dejo de pesimismo y logró contagiarme de esa sensación de derrota con la que él decidió su exilio de Hungría. Aunque pensándolo mejor, quizás fue una victoria, logró que no lo compraran como individuo.
Por lo demás es una obra autobiográfica sin mucho más, con su estilo propio.
Me quedo con una de las tantas frases subrayadas y se las comparto a todos los amantes de los libros que andamos por este lugar de encuentro: "La persona que cree en un solo libro es peligrosa: es el tipo de persona que se enfrenta a los problemas de la vida sin flexibilidad interna, basándose únicamente en rígidas suposiciones."
Normalmente los libros, mientras los leemos nos sacan de la realidad y al terminar se siente que uno "cae" a tierra de nuevo. Con éste en cambio me sucedió que cada renglón leído, cada capítulo que avanzaba no me dejaba salir de la realidad. Es como si cada frase fuese un revolcón en la realidad que atravesamos en la sociedad uruguaya en particular y en toda América. Cambian los colores de los gobiernos, el que llega desplaza a uno "malo" y se aboca de inmediato a hacer lo "mismo". Y luego comparan quién fue menos malo dejando un vacío "peligroso" en los ciudadanos.
He leído otras obras del autor, sé de su estilo con un dejo de pesimismo y logró contagiarme de esa sensación de derrota con la que él decidió su exilio de Hungría. Aunque pensándolo mejor, quizás fue una victoria, logró que no lo compraran como individuo.
Por lo demás es una obra autobiográfica sin mucho más, con su estilo propio.
Me quedo con una de las tantas frases subrayadas y se las comparto a todos los amantes de los libros que andamos por este lugar de encuentro: "La persona que cree en un solo libro es peligrosa: es el tipo de persona que se enfrenta a los problemas de la vida sin flexibilidad interna, basándose únicamente en rígidas suposiciones."
April 7, 2008
I read this in Hungarian. Recollections of life in Hungary from late 1944 to 1948, during the Russian liberation and the subsequent communist takeover of the country. He delves into the role and fate of Hungarian writers in particular, and his own experiences and ultimate decision to leave the country. A fairly heavy and introspective book with some sharp commentary on the absurdity of life under the communists. One funny chapter is about his childhood memories of his grandmother. The book was a gift from my cousin Katy in Vienna and very interesting read for those of us who lived through and can relate, even if not remember, those times.
April 23, 2022
Beautifully written in many places (so also very well translated into Polish), interesting from a historical point of view but mostly a statement of an artist's credo and struggle to stay independent (and alive). Great for slow, bit by bit reading. Though it was a bit disconcerting to read about his dislike for Jews (even if on an intellectual and argumented level) and "homosexuality becoming popular".
April 24, 2017
To jest doskonałe!
June 13, 2015
Pensaba que sabía, más o menos, lo que era el comunismo. Sándor Márai explica detalladamente lo que es: una debacle espiritual. la pérdida de la decencia, de la búsqueda de la excelencia, de la libertad. Es la muerte, terrorífica, sufriente, del humanismo, de lo humano, de lo que hace al hombre lo que es, de eso que lo distingue de las bestias. Lo humano que se ha dado de manera más perfecta en Occidente, en Europa. Solo allí el régimen se puso al servicio del individuo, y no al revés, como pasaba siempre y en todo lugar. Pero el humanismo fue traicionado por lo que lo había originado. El humanismo fue traicionado por Occidente.
July 30, 2016
Marai asks himself what it means to be a writer in three parts. In the first, what value the Soviet Union assigns to the role of the writer. In the second, what it meant to be a writer in Horty's Hungary. And the last whether it would be worthwhile to be a writer in a Hungary that is occupied by the Soviet Union. The dramatic events of 1944-1948 and the broader political implications of occupation form the background to these questions. This is very self-absorbed memoir, but I find Marai such a sympathetic voice that I was also absorbed. It would be interesting to learn what he made of being a Hungarian writer living in the U.S.
February 23, 2025
PODCASTové zamyslenie je tu
Román Zem, zem!... (Föld, föld!...) patrí medzi Máraiho memoárové diela. Autor sa v ňom definitívne a dramatickým spôsobom lúči so svojou domovinou. Táto rozlúčka je však jedným dychom aj rozlúčkou s celou západnou civilizáciou. Tón diela je melancholický a skeptický. Márai v ňom vlastne prehodnocuje celé dvadsiate storočie: márnotratnosť maďarskej šľachty, neprezieravosť a nadutosť predtrianonských maďarských politikov, hystériu a bezradnosť parížskych avantgárd, frustráciu z prvej svetovej vojny. Márai sa tu lúči so svetom svojho detstva, svojej mladosti, so svetom starých poriadkov, kde bolo všetko na svojom mieste a kde ešte vládla úcta. V románe však od začiatku dominuje podrobný opis útrap spôsobených príchodom Červenej armády do Maďarska. Je to akoby dovŕšenie apokalyptického údelu strednej Európy....
Zvyšné kvótičky sú v progrese, a nie nejdem ich kopoírovať lebo už na to nemám nervy. Posledných 100 strán som tlačila očami, nosom aj ušami... všetkým čím sa dalo, lebo okrem opisu Gyulu Krúdyho(ktorý fakt zaujme), to bo bolo kus naťahované útrpné lúčenie... Nie že by vlastne celá kniha nebola lúčením, ale toto už bolo lúčenie sa s lúčením 🤦♀️
Ak teda preskočím fakt, že Slovania sa objavili v 1944/45 a teda nápad na sebaurčenie je zjavne pre Maďarov ok, ale pre zvyšné národy už asi tak nie, tak som rada, že som dočítala. Zvyšok bude na KK. 3 fakt unavené mačiatka, za snahu, odvahu a slovanský imperializmus
Prvá veta: Svet je vzdialený a strašidelný...
Posledná veta: Začal som sa báť.
Goodreads Challenge 2025: 13. kniha
Román Zem, zem!... (Föld, föld!...) patrí medzi Máraiho memoárové diela. Autor sa v ňom definitívne a dramatickým spôsobom lúči so svojou domovinou. Táto rozlúčka je však jedným dychom aj rozlúčkou s celou západnou civilizáciou. Tón diela je melancholický a skeptický. Márai v ňom vlastne prehodnocuje celé dvadsiate storočie: márnotratnosť maďarskej šľachty, neprezieravosť a nadutosť predtrianonských maďarských politikov, hystériu a bezradnosť parížskych avantgárd, frustráciu z prvej svetovej vojny. Márai sa tu lúči so svetom svojho detstva, svojej mladosti, so svetom starých poriadkov, kde bolo všetko na svojom mieste a kde ešte vládla úcta. V románe však od začiatku dominuje podrobný opis útrap spôsobených príchodom Červenej armády do Maďarska. Je to akoby dovŕšenie apokalyptického údelu strednej Európy....
... aký je skutočný zmysel tohto obrovského súdneho procesu? Čo je to bolševizmus"? Manifest komunistickej strany sformulovali pred sto rokmi, tá hrozba tlie v po vedomí už desaťročia… Je to len hrôzovláda, lúpežnícky teror jednej malej, násilnickej a krutej skupiny, ktorá baží po moci koristi? Je možné, že… skutočným obsahom boľševizmu je bezpodmienečný prejav slovanského imperializmu: ale je to len zahrievacie kolo pred úlohou, ktorá už nadobudla konečnú podobu - komunizmus pomaly alebo rýchlo prekoná svoju ideológiu a prax, ale zostane tu jedna moderne vybavená veľmoc, Slovania, a s nimi sa v nasledujúcom storočí bude musieť počítať, aj keď jedného dňa už nebudú komunistami.
Zvyšné kvótičky sú v progrese, a nie nejdem ich kopoírovať lebo už na to nemám nervy. Posledných 100 strán som tlačila očami, nosom aj ušami... všetkým čím sa dalo, lebo okrem opisu Gyulu Krúdyho(ktorý fakt zaujme), to bo bolo kus naťahované útrpné lúčenie... Nie že by vlastne celá kniha nebola lúčením, ale toto už bolo lúčenie sa s lúčením 🤦♀️
Ak teda preskočím fakt, že Slovania sa objavili v 1944/45 a teda nápad na sebaurčenie je zjavne pre Maďarov ok, ale pre zvyšné národy už asi tak nie, tak som rada, že som dočítala. Zvyšok bude na KK. 3 fakt unavené mačiatka, za snahu, odvahu a slovanský imperializmus
Prvá veta: Svet je vzdialený a strašidelný...
Posledná veta: Začal som sa báť.
Goodreads Challenge 2025: 13. kniha
Read
May 30, 2019It has become habit, that as I near the end of a book, I slow down, give time for my thoughts to come together, and to allow for my reaching the end to concur with ample time to put those thoughts to paper. I do suppose that the given day of this occurrence does influence my concluding thoughts, as well as, my age at the time, recent events in my life, what is happening in the world, even, as Heidelberg theorized, my mere observation. There are several favorites that I have read many times, at different times in my life over the last forty years, and yes, my understanding is not only different with each reading in breath, but also depth. It is an observation, that although clearly subjective, I vainly attempt to keep as objective as possible.
This undertaking of observations and the observations of observations, at its most elementary, is a "toothpick" framework of how I see Sandor Marai's Memoir of Hungary. A rendering of the world he saw, his Hungary, his language, the Hungarian spirit, and the effects of not only Nazi and then Soviet occupation, but the indifference of the rest of the world to the plight of his people during the years 1944-1948. How he felt, what he thought and his ruminations regarding those feelings and thoughts. His encounters and conversations with fellow Hungarians, and the ruminations thereof.
Marai opens the door to his most inner thoughts during that time, his feelings, hopes and despair, and the very evolution of his mind and heart as he vacillated over staying or leaving his homeland. It was not so much a question of "to stay or not to stay" but in essence, truly, "to be or not to be". Shakespeare, once again, timeless. The world does not speak, nor understand Hungarian. For a writer, especially a prolific one, such as Marai, with over 46 books, leaving his country renders him mute. It was only with the realization that Communism also rendered him mute, for even his silence was dangerous, spoke volumes, that Marai chose the world over his homeland.
Ancient stories portray monsters, tell epics of inhumane creatures that attempt to conquer and obliterate, and man's fight for survival. Beasts and machines, aliens. These faceless, nameless monsters, devoid of compassion instill fear, hatred, and the desire to kill. As the tale continues, man, like David against Goliath, overcomes immense odds and conquers his oppressor. Man not only chooses, but attains his destiny and in doing so, man triumphs machine, proving, that Humanism, the very spirit of God our creator, is alive and well.
But, what if the monster, the inhumane, faceless, nameless creature that tears asunder and plunders your very world is not alien, but a monstrous conglomeration of fellow humans, even fellow countrymen? Betrayal enters the equation. What if the pursuit of this human constructed monster, this regime, is all in the name of "the people"? Deceit enters the equation. And what if the pursuit is so simplistic, so narrow in focus that it defies logic, ignores the very idea of the complexity of human thought, a dogma where "one shoe fits all"? Stupidity enters the equation. Betrayal + Deceit + Stupidity = ?
I am not sure there is one answer, although after reading Memoir of Hungary, I could venture to say, "communism". However, I would rather say what it is NOT. Betrayal, deceit, and stupidity is NOT love and understanding, it is not compassion, it does not nurture, forgive, absolve, or empower. In fact, the combination, virus-like, renders a people faceless, nameless, spiritless, hopeless, human-less.
Yet, somehow, despite this lethal combination, this viral, inhumane machine of oppression, there were those who held, however feebly, to the tenuous threads of humanness, who held fast to the belief that man is a possibility, who fled their oppressor and lived to tell their story. Sandor Marai was one such individual, one such "I" who lived to tell, wrote to inform, opened his heart to share.
It is only since the early 1990s that Marai's works have been translated to English. I, for one, am grateful for his thoughts, his observations, his observations of his observations.
Memoir of Hungary is one for my permanent shelves, one I will revisit in the future, again, and again.
This undertaking of observations and the observations of observations, at its most elementary, is a "toothpick" framework of how I see Sandor Marai's Memoir of Hungary. A rendering of the world he saw, his Hungary, his language, the Hungarian spirit, and the effects of not only Nazi and then Soviet occupation, but the indifference of the rest of the world to the plight of his people during the years 1944-1948. How he felt, what he thought and his ruminations regarding those feelings and thoughts. His encounters and conversations with fellow Hungarians, and the ruminations thereof.
Marai opens the door to his most inner thoughts during that time, his feelings, hopes and despair, and the very evolution of his mind and heart as he vacillated over staying or leaving his homeland. It was not so much a question of "to stay or not to stay" but in essence, truly, "to be or not to be". Shakespeare, once again, timeless. The world does not speak, nor understand Hungarian. For a writer, especially a prolific one, such as Marai, with over 46 books, leaving his country renders him mute. It was only with the realization that Communism also rendered him mute, for even his silence was dangerous, spoke volumes, that Marai chose the world over his homeland.
Ancient stories portray monsters, tell epics of inhumane creatures that attempt to conquer and obliterate, and man's fight for survival. Beasts and machines, aliens. These faceless, nameless monsters, devoid of compassion instill fear, hatred, and the desire to kill. As the tale continues, man, like David against Goliath, overcomes immense odds and conquers his oppressor. Man not only chooses, but attains his destiny and in doing so, man triumphs machine, proving, that Humanism, the very spirit of God our creator, is alive and well.
But, what if the monster, the inhumane, faceless, nameless creature that tears asunder and plunders your very world is not alien, but a monstrous conglomeration of fellow humans, even fellow countrymen? Betrayal enters the equation. What if the pursuit of this human constructed monster, this regime, is all in the name of "the people"? Deceit enters the equation. And what if the pursuit is so simplistic, so narrow in focus that it defies logic, ignores the very idea of the complexity of human thought, a dogma where "one shoe fits all"? Stupidity enters the equation. Betrayal + Deceit + Stupidity = ?
I am not sure there is one answer, although after reading Memoir of Hungary, I could venture to say, "communism". However, I would rather say what it is NOT. Betrayal, deceit, and stupidity is NOT love and understanding, it is not compassion, it does not nurture, forgive, absolve, or empower. In fact, the combination, virus-like, renders a people faceless, nameless, spiritless, hopeless, human-less.
Yet, somehow, despite this lethal combination, this viral, inhumane machine of oppression, there were those who held, however feebly, to the tenuous threads of humanness, who held fast to the belief that man is a possibility, who fled their oppressor and lived to tell their story. Sandor Marai was one such individual, one such "I" who lived to tell, wrote to inform, opened his heart to share.
It is only since the early 1990s that Marai's works have been translated to English. I, for one, am grateful for his thoughts, his observations, his observations of his observations.
Memoir of Hungary is one for my permanent shelves, one I will revisit in the future, again, and again.
February 16, 2013
Very telling account of Marai's life just prior to the "liberation" of Hungary from German control and the ensuing Russian occupation. From one bad circumstance to another.
I have read a handful of Marai's novels. This 4 year biography is very different than his books yet allows you to see the man is extremely intelligent and explains some of the pure genius in his other novels (Embers is my favorite).
His description of the first several encounters with Russian soldiers is almost surreal. I cannot fathom an enemy army occupying my hometown and showing up and random times at my front door.
He also does a good job at hitting home on the crucial component that brings together all Hungarians and also separates them from all other cultures - their very unique language. I spent roughly 3 years living in Hungary myself... and I still know very little Hungarian.
This is a good biography for fans of Marai or fans of WWII era history.
I have read a handful of Marai's novels. This 4 year biography is very different than his books yet allows you to see the man is extremely intelligent and explains some of the pure genius in his other novels (Embers is my favorite).
His description of the first several encounters with Russian soldiers is almost surreal. I cannot fathom an enemy army occupying my hometown and showing up and random times at my front door.
He also does a good job at hitting home on the crucial component that brings together all Hungarians and also separates them from all other cultures - their very unique language. I spent roughly 3 years living in Hungary myself... and I still know very little Hungarian.
This is a good biography for fans of Marai or fans of WWII era history.
August 19, 2020
Nie kręcę nosem, kiwam z uznaniem.
November 18, 2022
Wspaniała książka. Pierwszy tom Dzienników Sándora Máraiego opisuje burzliwy czas w życiu pisarza. Jest to wymagająca lektura, którą trzeba sobie dawkować. Chciałam zaznaczyć każde zdanie, aby móc je zapamiętać na dłużej. Mnóstwo przemyśleń egzystencjalnych (ale bez patosu czy grafomanii), politycznych, ekonomicznych. To też lekcja historii, dzięki wnikliwym opisom autora dowiedziałam się, jak wyglądał Budapeszt w czasach II WŚ, z czym borykali się Węgrzy po wojnie. Polecam tę lekturę i z niecierpliwością czekam, aż przeczytam kolejne tomy.
November 1, 2022
El ser humano es una posibilidad permanente. Los humanos somos capaces de cambiar: de que siempre exista algo, no forzosamente algo mejor, sino simplemente algo más, algo diferente, una posibilidad
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 13, 2025
Sandor Marai es mi mejor amigo
February 9, 2013
I only just finished this book today, and think it would be of tremendous interest to anyone, such as the members of my family, who knew Father and is interested in hearing another thinker-writer's description and memories of essentially the same period that my parents experienced and what led them, too, eventually to leave Hungary. I was impressed in the way Márai wrote about the period, but also the way he foregrounds how much the Hungarian language IS what both unites Hungarians with Hungarians and their country and, at the same time, so isolates them, especially once a Hungarian leaves his country and settles somewhere else--and also, not just incidentally, explains why he wrote only in Hungarian, even once he had emigrated to the West (in 1948) and hence was writing for an audience that predominantly did not know Hungarian. His thoughts and observations definitely remind him of my Father's thinking, perceptions, experience, and even philosophical stance, and so truly makes for a good comparison.
August 6, 2019
Por fin terminé de leer ¡Tierra, tierra!, de Márai. Me costó mucho llegar al final, y no porque no me gustara el libro, sino porque la realidad que describe se parece tanto a la nuestra que la lectura me resultó dolorosa. Es un alegato muy completo sobre la perversidad de los totalitarismos, ya sean de derecha o de izquierda. Y sobre la imposibilidad, para un hombre que vive de la palabra, de permanecer en un país invadido por un régimen imperialista como el soviético. No solamente le impiden decir lo que quisiera. Tampoco puede callar. Y la única salida que le queda es el exilio, si tiene la suerte de poder salir. En un libro alejado de sentimentalismos, Márai logra transmitir el despecho que significó para él tener que huir de su patria, a la que ya no regresaría jamás.
November 5, 2012
As an Hungarian himself it must have been difficult to keep an objective opinion in writing this autobiography, something he succeeds well enough. This writer is one of the most important persons in 20th century since he is not only giving his opinion about the history of his own country, but also a strong believe in a stronger Europe that looks for its existence after WWII.
December 18, 2012
His memoirs from his first encounter with a Russian soldier at the end of the war, until his sad and reluctant departure from Hungary, as the result of the unbearable conditions under the communist regime. Certain parts are lively and exciting to read. Other parts are really just interesting for those who know more about Hungarian literature. More than me, at least.
January 29, 2021
Simply wow. A must read book for anyone who loves diaries/autobiographies.
A book that will influence your life. I really enjoyed it. Every single page is interesting.
Full of personal observations, descritpions of everyday life... For me, it isalso very motivational. You read how people lived in such terrible times and you know, currently you live in the best times ever.
A book that will influence your life. I really enjoyed it. Every single page is interesting.
Full of personal observations, descritpions of everyday life... For me, it isalso very motivational. You read how people lived in such terrible times and you know, currently you live in the best times ever.
November 1, 2024
Diepzinnig boek over hoe de schrijver Marai bij de keuze komt, om zijn geboorteland te verlaten en nooit meer terug te keren. In de overpeinzingen en gedachten lees en leef je mee met de verandering van Hongarije naar een communistische satelietstaat van de Sovjet Unie na 1945.
Read
July 31, 2011Excellent.
May 7, 2019
Memoires de Hongrie
Abril 2019
Continuo a acompanhar a vida de SM .
Desta vez as memórias do que se passou na Hungria entre 1944 e a sua partida para o exílio definitivo em 1948.
Estas memórias foram escritas 20 anos mais tarde já em San Diego na California para onde emigrou.
São um relato angustiante do que o povo húngaro sofreu durante e após a II Grande Guerra .
A ocupação pelos soviéticos já no final da guerra e a instalação do regime comunista com todas as suas “amplas liberdades” .
O autor faz com invulgar perícia uma reflexão sobre a Hungria.
Escreve sobre o lugar da Hungria na Europa, sobre a identidade húngara, sobre a língua húngara e também sobre a sua literatura.
Dá-nos a conhecer este país e este povo tão pouco conhecido entre nós .
É um fabuloso documento histórico escrito por quem viveu estes acontecimentos “in loco” e com uma sensibilidade extraordinária.
Transcrevo um bocadinho daquilo a que assistiu: “ Os enviados de Moscovo comportavam-se como missionários encarregues de evangelizar os selvagens . A sua missão? Convencer um povo pagão a converter-se ao comunismo , a única religião universal e salvadora”.
........
“ A sociedade húngara cedo se apercebeu que estes missionários hipócritas , que pregavam pretensamente a bela palavra eram na realidade os mensageiros dos colonizadores. Decidido a conquistar um território pela violência e pela astúcia, o poder envia em primeiro lugar os evangelistas que passeiam a sua cruz e prometem a salvação. Estes são imediatamente seguidos por colonos armados, que se entregam a inexoráveis pilhagens. Foi este o método que o poder soviético usou para se apoderar da Hungria . « (tradução livre)
É impressionante a descrição do método usado pela União Soviética para transformar a Hungria num país comunista .
A teia foi feita fio a fio até ser completamente densa e os húngaros estarem presos a esse regime durante 50 anos .
Tivemos uma pequena amostra disso em Portugal em 1975.
Por pouco .....😩!!!!
Sandor Marai com amargura mostra-nos o que sentiram os húngaros durante essa época . Sobretudo a solidão . O sentirem que nenhum povo nem os seus vizinhos nem os outros povos da Europa ocidental iriam impedir o que lhes estava a acontecer .. Segundo ele diz a Hungria com uma língua diferente de todas as outras é um país solitário que só pode contar com os seus compatriotas.
Decidiu partir em 1948 para não mais voltar “ no dia em que compreendi que no país onde vivia era proibido não só escrever e falar mas também calar -se em liberdade “.
Li uma boa tradução francesa da Albin Michel.
Gostei imenso .
Abril 2019
Continuo a acompanhar a vida de SM .
Desta vez as memórias do que se passou na Hungria entre 1944 e a sua partida para o exílio definitivo em 1948.
Estas memórias foram escritas 20 anos mais tarde já em San Diego na California para onde emigrou.
São um relato angustiante do que o povo húngaro sofreu durante e após a II Grande Guerra .
A ocupação pelos soviéticos já no final da guerra e a instalação do regime comunista com todas as suas “amplas liberdades” .
O autor faz com invulgar perícia uma reflexão sobre a Hungria.
Escreve sobre o lugar da Hungria na Europa, sobre a identidade húngara, sobre a língua húngara e também sobre a sua literatura.
Dá-nos a conhecer este país e este povo tão pouco conhecido entre nós .
É um fabuloso documento histórico escrito por quem viveu estes acontecimentos “in loco” e com uma sensibilidade extraordinária.
Transcrevo um bocadinho daquilo a que assistiu: “ Os enviados de Moscovo comportavam-se como missionários encarregues de evangelizar os selvagens . A sua missão? Convencer um povo pagão a converter-se ao comunismo , a única religião universal e salvadora”.
........
“ A sociedade húngara cedo se apercebeu que estes missionários hipócritas , que pregavam pretensamente a bela palavra eram na realidade os mensageiros dos colonizadores. Decidido a conquistar um território pela violência e pela astúcia, o poder envia em primeiro lugar os evangelistas que passeiam a sua cruz e prometem a salvação. Estes são imediatamente seguidos por colonos armados, que se entregam a inexoráveis pilhagens. Foi este o método que o poder soviético usou para se apoderar da Hungria . « (tradução livre)
É impressionante a descrição do método usado pela União Soviética para transformar a Hungria num país comunista .
A teia foi feita fio a fio até ser completamente densa e os húngaros estarem presos a esse regime durante 50 anos .
Tivemos uma pequena amostra disso em Portugal em 1975.
Por pouco .....😩!!!!
Sandor Marai com amargura mostra-nos o que sentiram os húngaros durante essa época . Sobretudo a solidão . O sentirem que nenhum povo nem os seus vizinhos nem os outros povos da Europa ocidental iriam impedir o que lhes estava a acontecer .. Segundo ele diz a Hungria com uma língua diferente de todas as outras é um país solitário que só pode contar com os seus compatriotas.
Decidiu partir em 1948 para não mais voltar “ no dia em que compreendi que no país onde vivia era proibido não só escrever e falar mas também calar -se em liberdade “.
Li uma boa tradução francesa da Albin Michel.
Gostei imenso .
October 6, 2023
El periodo de tiempo que abarca este libro va de febrero de 1944 al fin del verano de 1948, apenas cuatro años y fracción que, sin embargo, son también el canto fúnebre por un modo de vida: Sándor Márai es un escritor de éxito durante el periodo entreguerras en Hungría. Sin vivir necesariamente una vida lujosa, cuenta con cierto desahogo económico y una reputación intelectual fraguada con base en sus publicaciones periodísticas y literarias, las cuales son lo que se suele llamar prolíficas. Sin embargo, los fascismos que florecen en Europa, así como la inevitable Segunda Guerra Mundial cambian por completo lo que parecía una cotidianidad inamovible. Se ve obligado a refugiarse con su esposa en un poblado a las afueras de Budapest, en esos momentos sitiada por los rusos, quienes cada tanto se aparecen en su nueva morada para pernoctar, charlar, robar o incluso para apropiarse de la casa y convertirla en cuartel y taller de reparación de la maquinaria de guerra con la que derrotarán a los alemanes.
Y los soldados que logra conocer de aquel ejército rojo parecido a un circo ambulante le resultan tan extraños e impredecibles como si pertenecieran a un mundo inimaginable. Tras el ejército rojo, comienzan a arribar los burócratas del comunismo, quienes se dedicarán a desvalijar lo poco que ha quedado de valor en Hungría mientras enarbolan la bandera de la libertad social.
Poco a poco los ciudadanos se dan cuenta de que todo aquello que conocían se va desmoronando, no solamente con ese final de la guerra en donde Budapest y buena parte del país quedan en humeantes ruinas, sino con la cada vez más clara visión de que el terror fascista de los cruces flechadas será reemplazado por el aún más pesado terror soviético, que no conforme con su capacidad de desaparición y aniquilación de personas, muy similar a la de los fascismos que derrotó, agregará un toque de despersonalización burocrática, lo que será un gran fertilizante para la desesperanza. Una suerte de escapar del sartén para caer en las brasas.
El propio Márai, que tras un breve viaje por la Europa occidental comprueba que a nadie le importa que Europa oriental haya caído en manos de los rusos, en un principio decide permanecer en Hungría aunque sea en silencio, mientras espera pacientemente a que regrese la libertad para escribir; pero una vez que comprende que bajo el yugo soviético no sólo no existe la libertad para decir lo que se piensa, sino ni siquiera la libertad para callar, decide exiliarse rumbo a América, y así considerar a la lengua húngara como su única y verdadera patria...
Y los soldados que logra conocer de aquel ejército rojo parecido a un circo ambulante le resultan tan extraños e impredecibles como si pertenecieran a un mundo inimaginable. Tras el ejército rojo, comienzan a arribar los burócratas del comunismo, quienes se dedicarán a desvalijar lo poco que ha quedado de valor en Hungría mientras enarbolan la bandera de la libertad social.
Poco a poco los ciudadanos se dan cuenta de que todo aquello que conocían se va desmoronando, no solamente con ese final de la guerra en donde Budapest y buena parte del país quedan en humeantes ruinas, sino con la cada vez más clara visión de que el terror fascista de los cruces flechadas será reemplazado por el aún más pesado terror soviético, que no conforme con su capacidad de desaparición y aniquilación de personas, muy similar a la de los fascismos que derrotó, agregará un toque de despersonalización burocrática, lo que será un gran fertilizante para la desesperanza. Una suerte de escapar del sartén para caer en las brasas.
El propio Márai, que tras un breve viaje por la Europa occidental comprueba que a nadie le importa que Europa oriental haya caído en manos de los rusos, en un principio decide permanecer en Hungría aunque sea en silencio, mientras espera pacientemente a que regrese la libertad para escribir; pero una vez que comprende que bajo el yugo soviético no sólo no existe la libertad para decir lo que se piensa, sino ni siquiera la libertad para callar, decide exiliarse rumbo a América, y así considerar a la lengua húngara como su única y verdadera patria...
June 21, 2022
Fantastische bespiegelingen op de laatste dagen van de Duitse bezetting, de Russische 'bevrijding' en de eerste jaren van opgelegd communisme naar Russisch model. Het betreft echter geen feitelijke, chronologische beschrijving van hetgeen gebeurde, maar vooral wat dat doet met de mensen, het intellectuele leven en de schrijver. Ook wordt duidelijk hoe de ontwikkelingen uiteindelijk tot het 'vrijwillig' ballingschap van Marai hebben geleid.
Dat wil niet zeggen dat de lezer ondertussen niet veel leert over hoe de maatschappij veranderde onder de wisseling van regime, en over hoe de ene terreur de andere verving. Maar uiteindelijk draait het om wat het doet met de mensen die onder zulke omstandigheden leven, wat ervoor zorgt dat de ene wel, de ander niet mee kan gaan in wat de maatschappij van ze vraagt.
Dit alles beschreven in mooie zinnen, waarin de grote vragen des levens als een rode draad in verweven zijn. Ik heb ook genoten van de toelichting en bespiegelingen op de Hongaarse literatuur van begin 20e eeuw. Interessant was ook, zeker voor deze tijden van de Oekraine-oorlog, de beschrijvingen en reflecties van Marai op het Russische leger, hoe ze vechten, hoe het werkt (met inferieure materialen en soldaten 'als termieten'), en hoe weinig het voor het totalitaire systeem nodig was om te geven om de publieke opinie. Wat dat betreft lijkt er weinig veranderd. Grappig vond ik het ook te constateren dat Marai vrij behoudend was, waar het op nieuwe (culturele) ontwikkelingen aanging.
Het is een heerlijk boek om te lezen, te onderstrepen, en te overdenken. En dat meer dan eens.
Dat wil niet zeggen dat de lezer ondertussen niet veel leert over hoe de maatschappij veranderde onder de wisseling van regime, en over hoe de ene terreur de andere verving. Maar uiteindelijk draait het om wat het doet met de mensen die onder zulke omstandigheden leven, wat ervoor zorgt dat de ene wel, de ander niet mee kan gaan in wat de maatschappij van ze vraagt.
Dit alles beschreven in mooie zinnen, waarin de grote vragen des levens als een rode draad in verweven zijn. Ik heb ook genoten van de toelichting en bespiegelingen op de Hongaarse literatuur van begin 20e eeuw. Interessant was ook, zeker voor deze tijden van de Oekraine-oorlog, de beschrijvingen en reflecties van Marai op het Russische leger, hoe ze vechten, hoe het werkt (met inferieure materialen en soldaten 'als termieten'), en hoe weinig het voor het totalitaire systeem nodig was om te geven om de publieke opinie. Wat dat betreft lijkt er weinig veranderd. Grappig vond ik het ook te constateren dat Marai vrij behoudend was, waar het op nieuwe (culturele) ontwikkelingen aanging.
Het is een heerlijk boek om te lezen, te onderstrepen, en te overdenken. En dat meer dan eens.
November 15, 2016
Il est pour moi difficile de rédiger une critique, qui serait d'emblée limitée, car ce livre est un témoignage précieux - peu de personnes ont écris sur la période de la fin de la guerre en Europe centrale, encore moins - ont été suffisamment éloquents pour être remarqués et moins encore - traduits pour être appréciés par les lecteur du monde et non seulement par des indigènes exilés venant de ces pays.
L'incompréhension mutuel des cultures et le snobisme donne un revers plutôt comique et léger à une situation de précarité et insécurité d'une l'Europe en guerre. Il est aussi flagrant, comment les personnes en sécurité jusqu'au présent, pensent que la guerre n'arrivera pas jusqu'au chez eux, alors qu'ils y sont engagés tard, savamment du côté perdant.
Finalement on y voit apparaître les vérités - qu'aucune système n'est finalement "meilleur" ou plus "démocratique", car ils ont tous conduits à travers l'emprisonnement et l'asservissement de l'homme en passant par le déni de l'esprit humain et des ses droits naturelles - soit par l'influence abrutissante des églises, soit par l'avilissement capitaliste effréné, soit par l'extermination, purges et lavage du cerveau des régimes communistes et fascistes - arrivant tous à la même finalité des atrocités à l'échelle mondiale - vérités, lesquelles jusqu'aujourd'hui continuent de gêner, et par la même occasion - génèrent du mépris, méfiance et haine entre les Européens de l'Est et les Européens de l'Ouest.
L'incompréhension mutuel des cultures et le snobisme donne un revers plutôt comique et léger à une situation de précarité et insécurité d'une l'Europe en guerre. Il est aussi flagrant, comment les personnes en sécurité jusqu'au présent, pensent que la guerre n'arrivera pas jusqu'au chez eux, alors qu'ils y sont engagés tard, savamment du côté perdant.
Finalement on y voit apparaître les vérités - qu'aucune système n'est finalement "meilleur" ou plus "démocratique", car ils ont tous conduits à travers l'emprisonnement et l'asservissement de l'homme en passant par le déni de l'esprit humain et des ses droits naturelles - soit par l'influence abrutissante des églises, soit par l'avilissement capitaliste effréné, soit par l'extermination, purges et lavage du cerveau des régimes communistes et fascistes - arrivant tous à la même finalité des atrocités à l'échelle mondiale - vérités, lesquelles jusqu'aujourd'hui continuent de gêner, et par la même occasion - génèrent du mépris, méfiance et haine entre les Européens de l'Est et les Européens de l'Ouest.
July 17, 2024
Márai beschrijft zijn ervaringen in Boedapest tussen 1944 en 1948, het jaar waarin hij de stad verliet. Nu moet je weten dat ik altijd een band heb gehad met de Hongaarse hoofdstad. Mijn beste jeugdvriendin was de dochter van een Hongaarse vluchteling, en samen met haar ouders hebben we de stad bezocht, toen nog achter het IJzeren Gordijn. Die prachtreis heeft mijn interesse voor de stad aangewakkerd en lezen over haar geschiedenis vind ik altijd boeiend. Helaas voldeed dit boek niet aan mijn hoge verwachtingen vanwege het te hoge erudiete gehalte. In mijn vorige boek, ‘De echo van de schreeuw’ van Frans Van Laecke, vond ik de erudiete verwijzingen nog fantastisch, hier komen ze over als pure opschepperij. Even door een straat lopen is voor Márai reden genoeg om te verwijzen naar een citaat van een obscuur filosoof, en dat stramien herhaalt hij vaak. Sommige passages zijn meeslepend, andere saai en onbegrijpelijk.
August 25, 2024
Szinte a szemünk előtt elevenedik meg a naplón keresztül a második világháború Budapestje, az ostrom utáni város életképei, a romok között keresgélő, múltjukat sirató, temető, tagadó emberek tömege, az újjáéledő kávéházak, a negyvenes évek második felének zavaros időszaka. Márai szabadon ereszti gondolatait, néha nagyon messze kerülünk a tárgytól, de a legjobb taktika, ha mi is csak hagyjuk sodorni magunkat ezzel a gondolatfolyammal, nem nézünk hátra, mikor térünk vissza a kronológiai rendhez vagy az elkezdett történet végéhez. Nagyon sok ideológiai tépelődést érünk tetten, a kommunisták térnyerése, a politika fordulatai mélyen megérintették a szerzőt, a kulturális diverzitás szép lassú kizárása, a levegő elfogyása érzékelhetően keríti hatalmába Márait, és bár szentül meg van győződve, hogy magyarul érdemes írnia, magyar közönségnek, mégis úgy dönt, hogy Amerikába távozik.
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