When renowned film director Péter Gárdos wrote the story, he intended it as a film script, but eventually he made it into a novel. “Fever at Dawn,” the love story of two Holocaust survivors―the author’s parents―has ever since sold in more than 20 territories.
A quick glance at recently published Hungarian prose suggests that the past continues to be the most popular subject in modern literature today. László Darvasi’s latest work seems no different. First impressions, however, are frequently misleading.
"The key turned twice in the lock, and ten years flew by. What did Sindbad do in those ten years? Perhaps no one cares. The days of his youth were gone, and with them his stern father, the two cheerful and wise tutors, his spirit of enterprise which in times past had led him to willingly court adventure; he no longer considered women perfect angels."
Spotless collars, handkerchiefs white as snow gleam around Emerenc
Szeredás; no sick person remains untended, no street unswept. Yet in the
world of consolidating socialism of the Hungary of the 1960s, the
harshness and strange lifestyle of this ex-servant somehow seems
irritating and inscrutable.