La mayoría de los incidentes de este libro tuvieron lugar, de una forma u otra, en la república popular húngara a mediados de la década de 1960. El resto, de una forma u otra, está a punto de suceder, o de volver a ocurrir, en algún lugar del planeta tierra.
«Una novela bella y extraña, una profunda meditación sobre el espíritu totalitario, atravesada por un humor negro y una cálida mirada. Oponiendo al absurdo su risa oscura, El epitafio de los perdedores evoca a los primeros Kundera y Nabokov. Andrew Szepessy es un descubrimiento maravilloso». IAN MCEWAN
Durante una calurosa noche de verano, un hombre aguarda sentado en la celda de una lúgubre prisión húngara. Ignora por completo los motivos de su encarcelamiento y los hieráticos guardias mantienen al respecto un hermético silencio. Pero no está solo allí. Otros muchos se encuentran recluidos entre los gruesos muros de piedra: sabios, cantantes, espías, estudiantes... A medida que pasan los días, el hombre se verá envuelto en sus conversaciones y en sus vidas, convirtiéndose poco a poco en copartícipe de sus desesperados y extravagantes actos de rebelión.
Escrita a principios de la década de 1980 e inspirada por la propia experiencia del autor, El epitafio de los perdedores es una distópica y desasosegante novela sobre el poder, la justicia y la libertad, y sobre los estrechos vínculos humanos que surgen incluso en los lugares más insospechados. Una necesaria reflexión sobre el absurdo de los totalitarismos, deslumbrante por su potencia literaria y su resonancia con nuestro tiempo.
Andrew Szepessy is the author of Epitaphs for Underdogs, a book of stories from the Hungarian People’s Republic during the mid 1960’s and Rune Song, a viking saga.
He was born in Brighton in 1940 of Hungarian parents and grew up in London during The Second World War.
Orphaned at age three, he was raised by his grandmother who spoke no English and often acted as her translator when bemused policemen wanted her to descend from the trees in Kew Gardens where she liked to collect herbs.
Andrew attended Wolverstone Hall School for boys where he excelled in languages and art, and was noted for his writing in the school magazine. He later read English at the University of Oxford, where he was tutored by Christopher Tolkien. He graduated in 1959 and went on to work at the BBC and BFI.
He has also worked for Norwegian Film in Oslo where his editing, directing and script writing credits include the films Ja, Vi Elsker, The Prince of Fogo, and Havlandet.
In 1982 he published Bestämmelser angående nedsväljandet av sängfjädrar, a precursor to Epitaphs for Underdogs with the Swedish publisher Prisma Forlag.
In 2007 the Norwegian publisher Vett og Viten published his book on film documentary: Dokumentarfilm.
Andrew lives and writes on a remote Hungarian farmstead on the planes of the Transylvanian border.
Although this was written in the 1980s it wasn’t published until 2021 after the author’s death. I came to it with some misgivings (as usual I’d forgotten why I’d bought it but suspect it was the Hungarian setting) - I recognise their importance but I’m just not the biggest fan of prison memoirs. However this felt very different to what I’ve read before. Instead of focusing wholly on the main protagonist we get to understand his experience (apparently based on the author’s own) as well as the atmosphere of the prison mainly through vignettes about the other inmates.
We never really know why most of the men are there and because we suspect many are there for fairly nebulous political reasons there isn’t a huge amount of menace but rather a series of character studies to show how the men adapt to and cope with their situations, as well as the odd digression off in to their previous lives. Despite often dealing with difficult themes it’s rarely oppressive and even manages to be rather heartwarming. It probably lost some interest about two thirds of the way through when some of the chapters started to feel a bit repetitive but overall this is an interesting read and certainly something different from the norm (for me at least).
La vida en una cárcel de Hungría tras el Telón de acero. Presentada mediante una serie de personajes y situaciones, es fresca, hasta divertida a veces, y también profunda y valiente.
the book did not have a journey to follow, which made it rather difficult to read. Sometimes the rambling did not make much sense and I did not see it’s value. Would have loved a nice follow through ending. My favorite part however was the story of Lake Balaton in the end.
Beautiful prose and interesting musings about people, social structures, and a time period at large, but very little plot. There wasn’t a true storyline to follow but I didn’t mind. A good read for lovers of highly descriptive and introspective narrative.
Generally enjoyable, an interesting look at Hungary under socialism and the political landscape. Petered out a bit towards the end for me and was a bit of a chore to finish.
Con mucha emocion escribo esta reseña, después de dos dias de lectura. He tenido el honor de disfrutar de un libro que aúna elegancia, delicadeza, sabiduría, esperanza y mucha pedagogía sobre la vida. Un libro para releer, con tiempo, disfrutando de cada pensamiento y rincón de esta mente genial que se despliega en una prosa maravillosa.
It is with great emotion that I write this review, after two days of reading. I had the honour of enjoying a book that combines elegance, delicacy, wisdom, hope and a lot of pedagogy about life. A book to reread, with time, enjoying every thought and corner of this brilliant mind that unfolds in a wonderful prose.
Cu mare emoție scriu această recenzie, după două zile de lectură. Am avut onoarea să mă bucur de o carte care îmbină eleganța, delicatețe, înțelepciune, speranță și multă pedagogie despre viață. O carte de recitit încet, savurând fiecare gând și colț al acestei minți strălucitoare care se desfășoară în proză minunată.