Ervin Lázár is the creator of a genre we may safely call
Central European folk surrealism, which takes on the quality of a
hallucinatory exploration into that part of the soul where beauty, hope,
and yearning live in close proximity with the harsh realities of life.
Our nostalgic feeling for the piping days of peace is so insistent that
it will soon cease to have anything to do with the real story of the
Austro-Hungarian Monarchy. This nostalgia is the topic and the tone of
István Kerékgyártó’s novel, Milán Trüffel, or the Life of an Adventurer.
"What makes one a writer? Probably it is not being locked up, because then we would be chock full of writers, but undoubtedly, for someone who does not want to be a writer but ends up becoming one, like me, such an event can prove crucial."
"'You’re like a god,' Lajos Herda patted him on the back, then began explaining that there are these rocks on the belt, the way there are people on the earth, and Géza sits above it, the way God sits in heaven, and that, as a matter of fact, he, Géza, is the god of the rocks."
Edith talks to herself about the way the delta discharges into the Black
Sea and the river is finally let go. There is no gripping at it, no dry
land anywhere; the Danube is able to breathe again. There is shooting, Edith topples into the Danube. Slowly, the
way she had learned by eye in the mirror, the body splashing with a
subdued plop into the Danube, with blood oozing profusely into the