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308 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1943
And so I arrived at a genre for which at the time I had no name: I have called it a 'real history' because it eschews every kind of novelistic embellishment and amplification and because it treats a well-known episode (from the time of Louis XVI)
This age was as beautiful as the most finely worked lace, as a piece of Sèvres porcelain with its timeless charm and fragile delicacy; as the noble oozings of the Tokai grape, full and rich with sweetness; as the autumn air in Hungary, when the reddening leaves are scented with the inexpressible sweetness of death.Not inexpressible, Antal. You expressed it. Thank you.