A selection of essays by Béla Hamvas, entitled Trees, has been published recently by Editio M, a Hungarian publishing house dedicated to promoting the works of the legendary Hungarian philosopher and writer, both in Hungarian and in foreign languages.
From Iván Sándor’s novel we can learn much about the real world and about the history of Eastern Europe (namely the events of 1956 and 1968, as well as the Budapest of recent times). We learn even more about the metatheses of the creatures in this world – their elective affinities about love and friendship, faith and unfaithfulness, honour and dishonour.
K. dosszié (The K File), a new autobiographical novel written by Imre Kertész, has been published lately by Magveto Publishing. The book is, Kertész says, “uniquely personal”, written with the pronounced purpose of clearing up the misunderstandings that have been surrounding him since he was awarded the Nobel Prize in 2002.
"Three writers invited another thirty, and created a common work of art, in which 33 original voices speak, separately and together. 33 authors speak about desire, passion, intimacy, corporeality, love and violence in 56 pieces of writing." - An interview with the editors.
"Bukovina is everything and nothing. A place of many colors, many nationalities. Barren and fleeing, emptied of content. When you look at it, you see something, but there’s nothing there. Zero, point of origin. The center of the periphery. Central Europe’s unknown center. On the most remote point of the world stands a city."
There are few things as annoying as barely making the train, only to realize that it is the wrong train going in the wrong direction. For Mihály, the hero of Antal Szerb’s Journey by Moonlight, however, such nuisances are inevitable and even necessary as he progresses through his ordeal-like journey in Italy.
"At the time of my second childbirth I had prepared myself: I took in a notebook and a pen, I lay down on the high birth bed, and put the pen and pad next to me, saying I shall write down, I must write down what I feel. But in the event the experience itself was so stormy that, of course, I did not manage to write down anything: but the pen and paper were there. I had done my bit."