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.
Krasznahorkai’s apocalypse is an apocalypse without resolution, hence an apocalypse without end – without the literal 'catharsis' of the Christian tale of judgment and salvation. For the narrating Beast, we ourselves are the alien matter, whose removal would bring the earth itself no catharsis, only the stance of a theatre left barren and void.
"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."
"The riot police come by bus with packed lunches, like a bunch of tourists from the countryside. After a quick city tour, they form a cordon, march down the Road of Revolution, and barricade Republic Square. Bobby-soxers pin flowers on their shields and offer them cakes. It gets smeared all over their visors."
But what became of the Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani,
my friend... what of your mouth odour and evil thoughts, the acrimony of your
chastity, dear chap, caro mio Giorgio; what became of the precious
desire for vengeance; what kinds of insects did the Creator pluck out
from that?—that is something a Hungarian is curious about.