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.
An old lady whose husband has just died of cancer leaves her hometown to join her daughter, a doctor living in the capital. How the initial relief at not having to live the rest of her life alone, forgotten, dutiless, but as a help to her only child soon turns into bewilderment, then apathy, and finally to death – this is the topic of Magda Szabó's 1963 novel, originally titled Pilátus (Pilate), now published in Italian under the title La ballata di Iza (Iza's Ballad, published by Einaudi).
László Krasznahorkai is not a fashionable writer. He is marching directly against what the age is about: that literature should become part of the entertainment industry. He is failing to adapt smoothly to what is going on. This art is powerfully pitched against the intention to skim through life laughing or just sticking it out as best you can without taking any particular risk.
"Out of all the hundreds of cadets either plowing ahead of us, trailing behind us or plodding along with us during those long years of military school, only one single boy was ever called a 'bad apple'. I can even remember his name. It was Apagyi."
How is the homeland represented in the works of authors from different cultures: this was the question asked by the organizers of the 2009 PEN World Voices festival. Here is what László Garaczi had to say.