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.
At the most basic level this novel is, one might say, the story of the kind of fate that might have befallen György (Gyuri) Köves, the 14- going on 15-year-old protagonist of Imre Kertész’s Fatelessness had he not been deported to Auschwitz six months earlier, though most likely both authors would insist—rightly—that their chosen methods—and, indeed, the experiences they underwent—are very different.
”It irritates me more than anything when the translator takes upon herself or himself to redress a political imbalance by mangling a perfectly open text just to show that they are not simply co-opting it.” – Poet-translator George Szirtes answers questions by HLO’s brother site, Litera, as part of a series of interviews with translators.
Published last year in English in Tim Wilkinson's translation, László Fábián’s experimentalist 1976 novel mirrors the pantheistic world of a highly sensitive child gradually maturing into an artist, who identifies with the great explorer, Roald Amundsen.
After a certain number of performances, a production takes on a life of its own, and the critic is unable to review it as an isolated night of entertainment. It has become a continuum, an institution, evolving over time as a living creature would. Such is the case with Zoltán Egressy's two plays.