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.
In Budapest no literate person can grow up without some sense of the Krúdy mystique that still hovers in the air, and harks back to the latter-day, "peacetime" splendors of the Monarchy that evaporated, along with so very much else, around 1918.
"Not that I have any knowledge of what evil is, not at all, / I haven’t a clue about the way the oak leaves are stuck in its flesh, / the way rough strings are looped around its hind legs and it is hung / on the rotten roof-beam of the shed dug deep in the ground, / it could be the corpse of a dog, a rabbit, or a fox, I can’t tell"
She’s not coming, the Buda camera said. She ought to be there, said
the Pest end. Another tomfoolery of yours, said Buda. It’s not, honest!
Like hell it isn’t, the Buda end fumed. Days and weeks went by but the
girl never entered the eyes of the Buda camera.