One of the reasons I like this memoir so much is that it's told in the voice of Magda Denes, the Hungarian Jewish child, as she was experiencing everything that was happening, rather than Magda Denes, the adult psychoanalyst.
And Magda doesn't seem to have been the must cherubic of children: she was, in her own words, "impossibly sarcastic, bigmouthed, insolent, and far too smart for my own good." It is this intelligent, insolent, sarcastic, and often sullen and resentful voice that tells the story, the voice of a child who doesn't always understand what's going on.
The hero of the story is Magda's older brother Ivan, a fiercely intelligent and brave teenager, a devoted big brother, a published poet at sixteen, who later became an activist in the Hashomer Jewish organization. He worked for them as a runner, carrying forged papers and running messages through the dangerous, Arrow Cross infested streets of Budapest, trusting on his cleverness and his Aryan looks to see him safe.
Magda's early childhood was spent in very wealth circumstances, with more servants than family members -- "hopelessly outnumbered by the Proletariat." All of that ended when Magda's feckless, spendthrift father, a newspaper publisher, fled abroad in style, traveling first class with a new wardrobe and all the family's savings. Magda, her brother and her mother had to move into her religious grandparents' lower-middle-class apartment.
Later, they were joined by Magda's aunt Roszi and her son Erwin. Ivan, Erwin and Magda were the best of friends despite the differences in their ages, partners in all of each other's escapades and keepers of each other's secrets.
When Magda developed tuberculosis -- often fatal in those days -- at the age of eight, her mom spent money they couldn't afford to place her in an upscale sanitorium where she was afforded the best chances of recovery. Her mother also visited every week, taking the long trip from the city to bring presents and news from home. Magda felt abandoned, and sulked the entire time she was there. She recovered, and wasn't in the least bit grateful.
The same thing happened again two years later when Magda's family was hiding in the basement of a Hashomer safe house in Budapest as the Arrow Cross ravaged the streets. Because the place was incredibly overcrowded and filthy, Magda's mother decided not to keep her there and risk causing a relapse in her tuberculosis, so Magda was sent to a relatively comfortable children's home where she was absolutely miserable with loneliness, feeling, again, as if she was a burden who had been ditched.
Eventually her mother came to get her when there was rumor that the Arrow Cross was going to attack the children's home. The book describes their harrowing stay in the Hashomer building, dreading starvation or Arrow Cross attacks, wondering from day to day whether they'd stay alive, as the Red Army was besieging the city.
In late 1944, Erwin ran away to be with his girlfriend, leaving a note for his mother, Magda's aunt, promising to be in touch. He never came back. On December 31, 1944, Ivan sneaked out to help someone and to visit his own girlfriend. He didn't return either, and their families did not learn the boys' fates for months: both had been caught and murdered.
In large part due to the cleverness and resourcefulness of Magda's mother and Aunt Roszi, the others survived this "strip-mining of lives" through the period of starvation that followed the Russian liberation of the city (although Magda's grandfather died of an infection in the spring of 1945). The story carried them -- Magda, her mother, her aunt and her grandparents -- right up to the point where they left Europe, traveling first to Cuba and then to the United States.
In a stopover in New York on the way to Cuba, twelve-year-old Magda is reunited with her father who hadn't seen her in eight years. He tells her she's a bright child but not very pleasant. She responds, "I know. Lengthy intense suffering does that at times."