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.
The boy awkwardly tried to catch hold of the leg, all the time thinking he can’t let the tears out, he can’t, because then he’ll never be a man. Anyone who feels sorry for the hog will never grow into a man. He remembered what his father always said: if you like sausage, then you’d better like this, too. And he did like sausage.
These days in Hungary literature has become an issue that people talk about passionately in the press, at demonstrations and on communal websites. We now take a brief look at two cases, one involving the changing of the national curriculum, the other the publication of a new anthology of political poems.