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.
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.
The word “happy” is a surprisingly rarely used term in Hungarian literature, and this is one of the reasons why I chose to use it. It is rather the expressions for “unhappiness” that have become all too trivial.
"Frederick the Great and Bach in church at night... They drink, they become delirious, they chatter: Bach is a perverted lecher, a Don Juan, an atheistic libertine; Frederick is a regicidal nihilist, a revolutionary, a traitor. By the morning both have grown quiet; Bach prays with his family, Frederick rides on horseback in front of his soldiers."
While in some parts of the world writers often appear in the media, and even lend their faces to ads, Hungarian writers rarely seem to descend from the ivory tower. So a poet advertising a dish soap still causes consternation for many.