Looking back from 2011 one sometimes has the feeling that the whole
Hungary of the late Kádár era consisted of nothing but hidden nooks
and crannies. From the perspective of these hideouts people had the
impression that really important things always happened elsewhere and at
other times—perhaps in 1956, perhaps in Moscow.
Ladislaus Löb, Hungarian-born professor of German Studies in England and translator of Béla Zsolt's Nine Suitcases, described in a book his way from Hungary through Bergen-Belsen to Switzerland in 1944. György Vári talks to the author about Nine Suitcases, the disappearance of family history and the debate around his rescuer, Rezso Kasztner.
Of course, Lipót Braun was right when he said that what is lost is lost forever. But (and it’s just that): what does it mean to lose something? Does it mean that it has disappeared and is no more, that it was swallowed by the earth; or does it only mean that we don’t see it any longer? And if we don’t see it, do we even miss it?