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Esther's Inheritance
Anewly translated novel from the great rediscovered Hungarian writer: a tautly suspenseful story of unrequited love and its still vivid consequences twenty years later.
What is it to be in love with a pathological liar and fantasist? Esther is, and has been for the more than two decades since Lajos disappeared from her life. Now all these years later, Lajos is returning, and the news brings both panic and excitement. While no longer young and thoroughly skeptical about Lajos, Esther still remembers how incredibly alive she felt when he was around. His presence bewitches everyone, and the greatest part of his charm--and his danger--lies in the deftness with which he wields that delicate power. Friends rally round protectively, but Lajos's arrival begins a day of high theater that will leave Esther's life dramatically changed again. "From the Trade Paperback edition."
What is it to be in love with a pathological liar and fantasist? Esther is, and has been for the more than two decades since Lajos disappeared from her life. Now all these years later, Lajos is returning, and the news brings both panic and excitement. While no longer young and thoroughly skeptical about Lajos, Esther still remembers how incredibly alive she felt when he was around. His presence bewitches everyone, and the greatest part of his charm--and his danger--lies in the deftness with which he wields that delicate power. Friends rally round protectively, but Lajos's arrival begins a day of high theater that will leave Esther's life dramatically changed again. "From the Trade Paperback edition."
ebook
First published January 1, 1939
About the author
Sándor Márai
178 books1,289 followersSándor Márai (originally Sándor Károly Henrik Grosschmied de Mára) was a Hungarian writer and journalist.
He was born in the city of Kassa in Austria-Hungary (now Košice in Slovakia) to an old family of Saxon origin who had mixed with magyars through the centuries. Through his father he was a relative of the Ország-family. In his early years, Márai travelled to and lived in Frankfurt, Berlin, and Paris and briefly considered writing in German, but eventually chose his mother language, Hungarian, for his writings. He settled in Krisztinaváros, Budapest, in 1928. In the 1930s, he gained prominence with a precise and clear realist style. He was the first person to write reviews of the work of Kafka.
He wrote very enthusiastically about the Vienna Awards, in which Germany forced Czechoslovakia and Romania to give back part of the territories which Hungary lost in the Treaty of Trianon. Nevertheless, Márai was highly critical of the Nazis as such and was considered "profoundly antifascist," a dangerous position to take in wartime Hungary.
Marai authored forty-six books, mostly novels, and was considered by literary critics to be one of Hungary's most influential representatives of middle class literature between the two world wars. His 1942 book Embers (Hungarian title: A gyertyák csonkig égnek, meaning "The Candles Burn Down to the Stump") expresses a nostalgia for the bygone multi-ethnic, multicultural society of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, reminiscent of the works of Joseph Roth. In 2006 an adaptation of this novel for the stage, written by Christopher Hampton, was performed in London.
He also disliked the Communist regime that seized power after World War II, and left – or was driven away – in 1948. After living for some time in Italy, Márai settled in the city of San Diego, California, in the United States.
He continued to write in his native language, but was not published in English until the mid-1990s. Márai's Memoir of Hungary (1944-1948) provides an interesting glimpse of post World War II Hungary under Soviet occupation. Like other memoirs by Hungarian writers and statesmen, it was first published in the West, because it could not be published in the Hungary of the post-1956 Kádár era. The English version of the memoir was published posthumously in 1996. After his wife died, Márai retreated more and more into isolation. He committed suicide by a gunshot to his head in San Diego in 1989.
Largely forgotten outside of Hungary, his work (consisting of poems, novels, and diaries) has only been recently "rediscovered" and republished in French (starting in 1992), Polish, Catalan, Italian, English, German, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Danish, Icelandic, Korean, Dutch, and other languages too, and is now considered to be part of the European Twentieth Century literary canon.
He was born in the city of Kassa in Austria-Hungary (now Košice in Slovakia) to an old family of Saxon origin who had mixed with magyars through the centuries. Through his father he was a relative of the Ország-family. In his early years, Márai travelled to and lived in Frankfurt, Berlin, and Paris and briefly considered writing in German, but eventually chose his mother language, Hungarian, for his writings. He settled in Krisztinaváros, Budapest, in 1928. In the 1930s, he gained prominence with a precise and clear realist style. He was the first person to write reviews of the work of Kafka.
He wrote very enthusiastically about the Vienna Awards, in which Germany forced Czechoslovakia and Romania to give back part of the territories which Hungary lost in the Treaty of Trianon. Nevertheless, Márai was highly critical of the Nazis as such and was considered "profoundly antifascist," a dangerous position to take in wartime Hungary.
Marai authored forty-six books, mostly novels, and was considered by literary critics to be one of Hungary's most influential representatives of middle class literature between the two world wars. His 1942 book Embers (Hungarian title: A gyertyák csonkig égnek, meaning "The Candles Burn Down to the Stump") expresses a nostalgia for the bygone multi-ethnic, multicultural society of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, reminiscent of the works of Joseph Roth. In 2006 an adaptation of this novel for the stage, written by Christopher Hampton, was performed in London.
He also disliked the Communist regime that seized power after World War II, and left – or was driven away – in 1948. After living for some time in Italy, Márai settled in the city of San Diego, California, in the United States.
He continued to write in his native language, but was not published in English until the mid-1990s. Márai's Memoir of Hungary (1944-1948) provides an interesting glimpse of post World War II Hungary under Soviet occupation. Like other memoirs by Hungarian writers and statesmen, it was first published in the West, because it could not be published in the Hungary of the post-1956 Kádár era. The English version of the memoir was published posthumously in 1996. After his wife died, Márai retreated more and more into isolation. He committed suicide by a gunshot to his head in San Diego in 1989.
Largely forgotten outside of Hungary, his work (consisting of poems, novels, and diaries) has only been recently "rediscovered" and republished in French (starting in 1992), Polish, Catalan, Italian, English, German, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Danish, Icelandic, Korean, Dutch, and other languages too, and is now considered to be part of the European Twentieth Century literary canon.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 598 reviews
November 9, 2025
A woman writing this passage on the first page sets the theme for us:
“But before I die I want to write down what happened the day Lajos visited me for the last time and robbed me.”
In days of old we’d call Lajos a “rake” or a “scoundrel,” but today we’d say he’s a con artist. When they were young, she was in love with him and he may have been in love with her, but if so, why did he run off and marry her sister? Now a letter from him to her appears, declaring his love for her which he claims her sister intercepted all those years ago.
Do we believe this letter or is that just another con? He’s the type of guy who replaced her valuable family jewelry with fake stones. And a guy who set up a literary salon without reading. He just charms people, even older men such as an old family friend who acts as her lawyer.
She last saw him 20 years ago. Now she’s 45 and he’s over 50. The sister he married has died and now he’s back with his kids and another woman in tow (his mistress?) trying to charm her again. He wants the only asset she has left -- her house. Will she fall for it?
We have great writing:
“I have started to think that the great, decisive moments that govern our lives are far less conscious at the time than they seem later when we are reminiscing and taking stock.”
“Lajos was a disciple of Nietzsche, who demanded that one should live dangerously….When I was close to him…my life was as ‘dangerous’ as his. Now that this danger has passed I can see that nothing is as it was, and that such danger was in fact the one true meaning of life.”
A good story, (short – 148 pages) but not as good as the author’s Embers or Portraits of a Marriage. The book, probably set in the 1930’s, is translated from the Hungarian.
I’ve enjoyed several other novels by Sandor Marai and here are links to my reviews of those:
Portraits of a Marriage
Embers
Casanova in Bolzano
The Rebels
Photo of Budapest in the 1930's from budapestposter.com
“But before I die I want to write down what happened the day Lajos visited me for the last time and robbed me.”
In days of old we’d call Lajos a “rake” or a “scoundrel,” but today we’d say he’s a con artist. When they were young, she was in love with him and he may have been in love with her, but if so, why did he run off and marry her sister? Now a letter from him to her appears, declaring his love for her which he claims her sister intercepted all those years ago.
Do we believe this letter or is that just another con? He’s the type of guy who replaced her valuable family jewelry with fake stones. And a guy who set up a literary salon without reading. He just charms people, even older men such as an old family friend who acts as her lawyer.
She last saw him 20 years ago. Now she’s 45 and he’s over 50. The sister he married has died and now he’s back with his kids and another woman in tow (his mistress?) trying to charm her again. He wants the only asset she has left -- her house. Will she fall for it?
We have great writing:
“I have started to think that the great, decisive moments that govern our lives are far less conscious at the time than they seem later when we are reminiscing and taking stock.”
“Lajos was a disciple of Nietzsche, who demanded that one should live dangerously….When I was close to him…my life was as ‘dangerous’ as his. Now that this danger has passed I can see that nothing is as it was, and that such danger was in fact the one true meaning of life.”
A good story, (short – 148 pages) but not as good as the author’s Embers or Portraits of a Marriage. The book, probably set in the 1930’s, is translated from the Hungarian.
I’ve enjoyed several other novels by Sandor Marai and here are links to my reviews of those:
Portraits of a Marriage
Embers
Casanova in Bolzano
The Rebels
Photo of Budapest in the 1930's from budapestposter.com
February 15, 2018
Pagina dopo pagina, parola dopo parola, stringi i pugni, perché già sai come andrà a finire: Eszter te l'ha detto sin dall'inizio come andrà a finire.
Ma tu non ci vorrai credere e pagina dopo pagina, parola dopo parola, continuerai a sperare in un finale diverso, continuando a stringere i pugni per non essere costretto a guardare le mani vuote.
Ma tu non ci vorrai credere e pagina dopo pagina, parola dopo parola, continuerai a sperare in un finale diverso, continuando a stringere i pugni per non essere costretto a guardare le mani vuote.
December 15, 2024
After 20 years, Lajos announces his visit to Eszter by telegram. Eszter lives with Nunu, the family's former housekeeper, in a secluded house with a garden from which they feed. Eszter has remained nothing except home and land. In his life, Lajos brought Eszter and her family all their possessions, lied and deceived, and gave her just enough to live.
Lajos was a friend of her brother's brother, and with his vivacity, he conjured up the whole family. Eszter loved Lajos, and Lajos also had feelings for Eszter. Ultimately, he did not marry her but her sisters. Eszter and Nunu joke in the evening before the expected visit that they "have to lock away the silver," but both know that this would probably go on the whole in this last visit. Still, Lajos is the only person she loves in Eszter's life. When Lajos arrives, he does not come alone. He brings acquaintances, all of whom have to do with his demands on Eszter. During the conversation between Eszter and Lajos, Eszter quickly reverts to Lajo's charm.
Although she knows he is lying and enjoying himself, he impresses her with his way of speaking and the audacity with which he sees the world, and he manages to wrap her up very quickly. There are also talks with Lajos's daughter and letters that Lajos Eszter had before 20 Years, but Eszter does not know to this day. Now, Lajos comes to finish what he started, for, he says, they are the world's laws.
This novel was published in 1939 in Budapest.
Lajos was a friend of her brother's brother, and with his vivacity, he conjured up the whole family. Eszter loved Lajos, and Lajos also had feelings for Eszter. Ultimately, he did not marry her but her sisters. Eszter and Nunu joke in the evening before the expected visit that they "have to lock away the silver," but both know that this would probably go on the whole in this last visit. Still, Lajos is the only person she loves in Eszter's life. When Lajos arrives, he does not come alone. He brings acquaintances, all of whom have to do with his demands on Eszter. During the conversation between Eszter and Lajos, Eszter quickly reverts to Lajo's charm.
Although she knows he is lying and enjoying himself, he impresses her with his way of speaking and the audacity with which he sees the world, and he manages to wrap her up very quickly. There are also talks with Lajos's daughter and letters that Lajos Eszter had before 20 Years, but Eszter does not know to this day. Now, Lajos comes to finish what he started, for, he says, they are the world's laws.
This novel was published in 1939 in Budapest.
December 13, 2025
Esther's Inheritance is another masterfully written novel by acclaimed Hungarian author Sandor Marai. Having previously read Embers ( which I highly recommend by the way!), I found Esther's Inheritance to be equally captivating and compelling. The story is simple and redolent of Embers, including because of it's poetic prose. It is set on a day in which two people meet after a long period of separation. Readers are taken on a rollercoaster of emotions from passionate romantic love, to heartbreaking betrayal and coldhearted deceit.
What I enjoyed most about Esther's Inheritance is Marai's finesse in taking readers into the minds of the protagonists Esther and Lazo. He brilliantly captures their various motives and fears, finding the right words to vividly convey their complex and conflicting emotions. My only regret is that the story was not longer so that I could bask in Marai's writing even more.
I definitely highly recommend this one!
What I enjoyed most about Esther's Inheritance is Marai's finesse in taking readers into the minds of the protagonists Esther and Lazo. He brilliantly captures their various motives and fears, finding the right words to vividly convey their complex and conflicting emotions. My only regret is that the story was not longer so that I could bask in Marai's writing even more.
I definitely highly recommend this one!
January 14, 2023
Hace poco más de 20 años descubrí a este autor húngaro y durante los siguientes dos años sólo me dediqué a leer libros de él; me había hechizado con la misma fuerza que se guardan dos enamorados. Sin duda colmaba mis gustos y se acercaba a mi sensibilidad con su prosa romántica y emotiva. Leí buena parte de sus novelas así como sus libros de memorias que también son estupendos. Lo dejé en paz durante todos estos años, casi 20, y ahora por alguna causa he vuelto a mi querido y venerado Sándor Márai (1900-1989) con esta pequeña pieza que es una joya como todo lo que he leído de él.
La lectura de este libro me ha remontado a lo que era mi vida en aquel entonces. Los vitales y felices recuerdos de aquella etapa han vuelto con fuerza, al igual que los de los protagonistas del relato, Eszter y Lajos, quienes también tras 20 años vuelven a reencontrase para evocar un pasado extraño y amargo y para tratar de terminar lo que iniciaron.
Eszter, ahora ya una mujer de mediana edad quien lleva una vida sencilla y tranquila, es quien nos relata la historia por la que desfilan el mencionado Lajos dueño de una singular personalidad caracterizada por su desmedido vigor y también por ser un charlatán, el eterno mentiroso, una especie de prestidigitador que deja sentir su influencia sobre todo su entorno. También aparece la vieja y fiel amiga de Eszter llamada Nunu, Laci el hermano de Eszter, Endre un notario amigo de la familia y el ecuánime y bondadoso Tibor.
La trama se desarrolla al más puro estilo de Márai con destellos de sentimientos muy vívidos, con retazos de profundas reflexiones vitales y en medio siempre el debate sobre la vida individual, en este caso sobre la de Eszter y Lajos.
La lectura de este libro me ha remontado a lo que era mi vida en aquel entonces. Los vitales y felices recuerdos de aquella etapa han vuelto con fuerza, al igual que los de los protagonistas del relato, Eszter y Lajos, quienes también tras 20 años vuelven a reencontrase para evocar un pasado extraño y amargo y para tratar de terminar lo que iniciaron.
Eszter, ahora ya una mujer de mediana edad quien lleva una vida sencilla y tranquila, es quien nos relata la historia por la que desfilan el mencionado Lajos dueño de una singular personalidad caracterizada por su desmedido vigor y también por ser un charlatán, el eterno mentiroso, una especie de prestidigitador que deja sentir su influencia sobre todo su entorno. También aparece la vieja y fiel amiga de Eszter llamada Nunu, Laci el hermano de Eszter, Endre un notario amigo de la familia y el ecuánime y bondadoso Tibor.
La trama se desarrolla al más puro estilo de Márai con destellos de sentimientos muy vívidos, con retazos de profundas reflexiones vitales y en medio siempre el debate sobre la vida individual, en este caso sobre la de Eszter y Lajos.
September 2, 2016
I complain about there being no POMO. I Sshhh myself. But there are no abrupt shifts. Where are those sharp slaying edges? Sshhh, I repeat. I know it's no use. I know him. He'll keep turning the pages. He's full of hope and patience. I slur a remark. How could he have heard? I hate it when he presses a finger against his lips, snatching away my popcorn and making threats neither of us believe he will or can carry out. I read with him one eye open. By the time I open the other it is too late.
On the dusty ground I look around. Where did he go? Not much of a town. Not many people. It seems like one of those places that have always been that way. The few people here speak with excitement. Some guy is coming back after twenty years. Some older guy who broke all of their rules of living based on fulfilling their responsibilities. Being the marathon test needed for them to be acclaimed, a good person. This Lajos was not. He broke all the codes, living by the jitters of his impulses. He was bringing some others with him. Most importantly, he was riding in with some desperado named, Time.
No one carried any popcorn with them here but a woman directed me to an old house not far from town where two women lived. By some sort of coincidence I guess this was where this Lajos would arrive and practically everyone else would be there too. It was to Esther he was returning. She waited, bided, time for twenty years with her older cousin Nunnu.
The old women, one a bunch older than the other sat under an old tree drinking tea in cups. The house is old, the garden is old, the almond grove. It's hot. I feel like I'm walking onto some staid stage set.
Where's the other guy? The other me? Mister Big-shot. He's not here. He's somewhere else reading this book slow. He's stopping after each paragraph and thinking, analyzing, enjoying the…sound of the words, finding some fancy named category, while these women are waiting for this Lajos guy too. Everybody's waiting for him except…ah, Mister Big- on his easy chair in his own way, too. But I'm the one getting dirty and dusty. No, that's not true. No one here gets dirty and dusty. Why can't I be one of those unreliable narrators. I hate the way big-shot turns the pages.I'd rather be here, inside, find out what this Lajos guy is? If he is? It's a little like that time I slipped into that Godot book and had such a hard time getting out. But here I am and starting to get it.
I watch, listen, allow my senses to tingle. There is no tingling in this town. If this is a story- and I know my friend big-shot would think so because beneath the simple language he would call elegiac and refer to this Walser guy he likes-it is one of biding. That's it. Everyone around me here is biding. It's like an old Twilight Zone episode where they are fighting with placidity to hold back and bide time. This Lajos had shed all the harnesses of responsibility and stepped into time. He left and for twenty years these poor people have been going through the motions of life. If he comes…if he comes…I was back in that Beckett thing. After a while I was waiting too. I started thinking that that was what it was all about, waiting for someone who will direct the whole show and then all you do will have to follow. How could I not get scared? What kind of life would that be? But would I be able to get out of the waiting? The story?
These folks weren't going to be like this Lajos but being near him, having time and all its damn risks being brought back into town was enough; the whole daring of living by one's impulses and feelings was a thrill and added an important ingredient to their life. So, they waited for twenty years. Now was the time. The whole idea of fate, as though it were hung from a big flapping sign when you entered into town, was at stake; at stake foe Esther. But don't get me wrong-and big-shot probably already has- this Marai guy doesn't dump everything at once. Just the opposite he kept me hanging around here aware of every minute detail in his, O.K., simple but elegiac prose, I paid attention to quietly, slowly, revealed …O.K. the thing is I had to…wait. The way he wrote it, without my keen eye ever being aware, he interested me in waiting. Why the son-of-a-gun.
Big-shot is probably laughing at me. Ehhh, that isn't fair either. He never laughs when I come back and give him my report on what it was like really being there, the real thing. He's actually kind-of interested and listens. He likes that I put up with his bad jokes so I do that sometimes. When I can. But I tell him this is the kind of book the people he hangs around with would like. I told him it was really something being-there. I said he might have liked being there with me. He shook his head no, he didn't like getting dirty or taking risks. Safety was his specialty not mine. He told me we made a good team. I said that was great because I was thinking of asking for a raise. Oh no, a cover opening. Printed text across pages. Tell me it isn't. He isn't rereading Godot. He's…when is he going to be here?
On the dusty ground I look around. Where did he go? Not much of a town. Not many people. It seems like one of those places that have always been that way. The few people here speak with excitement. Some guy is coming back after twenty years. Some older guy who broke all of their rules of living based on fulfilling their responsibilities. Being the marathon test needed for them to be acclaimed, a good person. This Lajos was not. He broke all the codes, living by the jitters of his impulses. He was bringing some others with him. Most importantly, he was riding in with some desperado named, Time.
No one carried any popcorn with them here but a woman directed me to an old house not far from town where two women lived. By some sort of coincidence I guess this was where this Lajos would arrive and practically everyone else would be there too. It was to Esther he was returning. She waited, bided, time for twenty years with her older cousin Nunnu.
The old women, one a bunch older than the other sat under an old tree drinking tea in cups. The house is old, the garden is old, the almond grove. It's hot. I feel like I'm walking onto some staid stage set.
Where's the other guy? The other me? Mister Big-shot. He's not here. He's somewhere else reading this book slow. He's stopping after each paragraph and thinking, analyzing, enjoying the…sound of the words, finding some fancy named category, while these women are waiting for this Lajos guy too. Everybody's waiting for him except…ah, Mister Big- on his easy chair in his own way, too. But I'm the one getting dirty and dusty. No, that's not true. No one here gets dirty and dusty. Why can't I be one of those unreliable narrators. I hate the way big-shot turns the pages.I'd rather be here, inside, find out what this Lajos guy is? If he is? It's a little like that time I slipped into that Godot book and had such a hard time getting out. But here I am and starting to get it.
I watch, listen, allow my senses to tingle. There is no tingling in this town. If this is a story- and I know my friend big-shot would think so because beneath the simple language he would call elegiac and refer to this Walser guy he likes-it is one of biding. That's it. Everyone around me here is biding. It's like an old Twilight Zone episode where they are fighting with placidity to hold back and bide time. This Lajos had shed all the harnesses of responsibility and stepped into time. He left and for twenty years these poor people have been going through the motions of life. If he comes…if he comes…I was back in that Beckett thing. After a while I was waiting too. I started thinking that that was what it was all about, waiting for someone who will direct the whole show and then all you do will have to follow. How could I not get scared? What kind of life would that be? But would I be able to get out of the waiting? The story?
These folks weren't going to be like this Lajos but being near him, having time and all its damn risks being brought back into town was enough; the whole daring of living by one's impulses and feelings was a thrill and added an important ingredient to their life. So, they waited for twenty years. Now was the time. The whole idea of fate, as though it were hung from a big flapping sign when you entered into town, was at stake; at stake foe Esther. But don't get me wrong-and big-shot probably already has- this Marai guy doesn't dump everything at once. Just the opposite he kept me hanging around here aware of every minute detail in his, O.K., simple but elegiac prose, I paid attention to quietly, slowly, revealed …O.K. the thing is I had to…wait. The way he wrote it, without my keen eye ever being aware, he interested me in waiting. Why the son-of-a-gun.
Big-shot is probably laughing at me. Ehhh, that isn't fair either. He never laughs when I come back and give him my report on what it was like really being there, the real thing. He's actually kind-of interested and listens. He likes that I put up with his bad jokes so I do that sometimes. When I can. But I tell him this is the kind of book the people he hangs around with would like. I told him it was really something being-there. I said he might have liked being there with me. He shook his head no, he didn't like getting dirty or taking risks. Safety was his specialty not mine. He told me we made a good team. I said that was great because I was thinking of asking for a raise. Oh no, a cover opening. Printed text across pages. Tell me it isn't. He isn't rereading Godot. He's…when is he going to be here?
January 10, 2021
3,5 🌟
Eszter es una mujer soltera que vive tranquila en la casa con jardín que heredó de su padre, se mantiene como puede y acompañada por una pariente ya anciana. Ya dejó su juventud atrás y nos narra cómo Lajos (un antiguo conocido, canalla y mentiroso empedernido, que fue importante en su vida y en la de su familia) reaparece después de muchos años y le informa que va a hacerle una visita. Conoceremos la relación que los une, lo que este viene a buscar y las consecuencias de esta visita inesperada tanto en ella como en aquellos que la rodean que sienten un gran aprecio por la buena de Eszter. Todos conocen de más a este Lajos descarado y vividor, que vive la vida sin límites, pero a la vez produce cierta fascinación en todos, menos en el Notario.
Esta historia parece hablarnos del destino, como algo inevitable. Eszter siente que ha de "cumplir con su deber", quiere dejar sus obligaciones resueltas. Se entera de una serie de acontecimientos, que aun pasando hace muchos años, le remueven su interior: lo que debería de haber hecho, lo que pudo haber sido si hubiese actuado de otra forma... Reflexiona sobre la relación con su hermana fallecida, sobre sus sentimientos hacia este Lajos distorsionador y manipulador, que a la vez trae viveza y resplandor a la vida de unas personas que se rigen por la tranquilidad, por el orden y por hacer lo más correcto en todo momento. Eszter es consciente de la realidad, no es ingenua, pero se ve atrapada en aquello que siente que ha de hacer.
Sandor Márai siempre me atrapa con su estilo y en esta ocasión no iba a ser menos. Pero confieso que de todos los libros que he leído de él (El último encuentro, La mujer justa, Divorcio en Buda) este es el que menos he disfrutado. Diría que se debe a que me ha costado entender las razones de la protagonista, aunque al final la he comprendido algo más.
Es una lectura interesante, que atrapa, pero lenta (no lo digo como algo negativo, disfruto mucho de la lentitud de Márai), más que ocurrir cosas nos introduce en el mundo interior de los personajes como suele pasar en las novelas de este autor. Me ha gustado.
Eszter es una mujer soltera que vive tranquila en la casa con jardín que heredó de su padre, se mantiene como puede y acompañada por una pariente ya anciana. Ya dejó su juventud atrás y nos narra cómo Lajos (un antiguo conocido, canalla y mentiroso empedernido, que fue importante en su vida y en la de su familia) reaparece después de muchos años y le informa que va a hacerle una visita. Conoceremos la relación que los une, lo que este viene a buscar y las consecuencias de esta visita inesperada tanto en ella como en aquellos que la rodean que sienten un gran aprecio por la buena de Eszter. Todos conocen de más a este Lajos descarado y vividor, que vive la vida sin límites, pero a la vez produce cierta fascinación en todos, menos en el Notario.
Esta historia parece hablarnos del destino, como algo inevitable. Eszter siente que ha de "cumplir con su deber", quiere dejar sus obligaciones resueltas. Se entera de una serie de acontecimientos, que aun pasando hace muchos años, le remueven su interior: lo que debería de haber hecho, lo que pudo haber sido si hubiese actuado de otra forma... Reflexiona sobre la relación con su hermana fallecida, sobre sus sentimientos hacia este Lajos distorsionador y manipulador, que a la vez trae viveza y resplandor a la vida de unas personas que se rigen por la tranquilidad, por el orden y por hacer lo más correcto en todo momento. Eszter es consciente de la realidad, no es ingenua, pero se ve atrapada en aquello que siente que ha de hacer.
Sandor Márai siempre me atrapa con su estilo y en esta ocasión no iba a ser menos. Pero confieso que de todos los libros que he leído de él (El último encuentro, La mujer justa, Divorcio en Buda) este es el que menos he disfrutado. Diría que se debe a que me ha costado entender las razones de la protagonista, aunque al final la he comprendido algo más.
Es una lectura interesante, que atrapa, pero lenta (no lo digo como algo negativo, disfruto mucho de la lentitud de Márai), más que ocurrir cosas nos introduce en el mundo interior de los personajes como suele pasar en las novelas de este autor. Me ha gustado.
September 16, 2022
Una donna narra "la storia dell'ultimo giorno in cui Lajos venne per l'ultima volta a trovarmi e mi spogliò di tutti i miei beni".
Così fin dall'inizio l'autore ci anticipa 'tutto' . E già questo mi è piaciuto poco.
Il ritratto che emerge di Lajos è parecchio inquietante.
La protagonista e quest'uomo si amavano in gioventù, ma finì che lui sposò la sorella.
Ci viene detto che questo individuo ha "una spiccata tendenza alle fantasticherie più strampalate, il bisogno (...) di snocciolare una frottola dopo l'altra"; "si rallegrava e si disperava sempre con il massimo impegno, ma in realtà non sentiva mai nulla". Inoltre un grande approfittatore, un teatrale pagliaccio, un incredibile truffatore. Un caso clinico?
Un libro scritto molto bene, ma questo è l'unico elemento positivo che vi ho trovato. Per il resto, una grossa delusione. Più che di una vicenda, m'è parsa la narrazione di un incubo.
Il progressivo scostarsi dalla realtà plausibile fa sì il testo diventi sempre meno convincente. Personaggi e situazioni mi son parsi pertanto artificiosi, inverosimili.
Per il grande apprezzamento che ho verso l'autore, mi aspettavo almeno il colpo di genio finale. Invece, niente.
Così fin dall'inizio l'autore ci anticipa 'tutto' . E già questo mi è piaciuto poco.
Il ritratto che emerge di Lajos è parecchio inquietante.
La protagonista e quest'uomo si amavano in gioventù, ma finì che lui sposò la sorella.
Ci viene detto che questo individuo ha "una spiccata tendenza alle fantasticherie più strampalate, il bisogno (...) di snocciolare una frottola dopo l'altra"; "si rallegrava e si disperava sempre con il massimo impegno, ma in realtà non sentiva mai nulla". Inoltre un grande approfittatore, un teatrale pagliaccio, un incredibile truffatore. Un caso clinico?
Un libro scritto molto bene, ma questo è l'unico elemento positivo che vi ho trovato. Per il resto, una grossa delusione. Più che di una vicenda, m'è parsa la narrazione di un incubo.
Il progressivo scostarsi dalla realtà plausibile fa sì il testo diventi sempre meno convincente. Personaggi e situazioni mi son parsi pertanto artificiosi, inverosimili.
Per il grande apprezzamento che ho verso l'autore, mi aspettavo almeno il colpo di genio finale. Invece, niente.
June 8, 2017
Sándor Márai é um autor que me tem vindo a pregar partidas desde que li o seu primeiro e maravilhoso livro “As Velas Ardem Até ao Fim”. Digo isto porque depois dessa leitura memorável, não mais me consegui reencontrar com o autor.
O segundo livro de Márai que li foi “Rebeldes”, um livro que parecia ter sido escrito por outra pessoa, tão diferente era o estilo em relação a “As Velas Ardem Até ao Fim”; o terceiro foi este “A Herança de Eszter” que em termos de linguagem e estilo evoca “As Velas…”, mas cujo conteúdo, embora profundo, não atinge a complexa simplicidade daquele primeiro.
Eszter é uma mulher abandonada por Lajos, um trapaceiro que todos engana com o seu charme hipnótico. Os acontecimentos narrados revezam-se entre o presente, altura em que Lajos regressa de uma ausência de 20 anos e encontra uma Eszter ainda prisioneira da sua memória, e um passado repleto de enganos e promessas desfeitas.
Apesar da beleza da prosa de Sándor Márai e de algum interesse que a história me despertou, a verdade é que passei vários dias antes de conseguir reflectir sobre este livro e agora talvez entenda finalmente porquê. A minha dificuldade em expressar-me prendia-se com a minha incapacidade em compreender a postura da personagem principal face ao canalha que regressa não por arrependimento ou para se redimir de alguma forma, mas pelos motivos menos dignos. Eszter não se revolta. Não o desmascara. Não enlouquece. Continua a viver segundo as regras ditadas por um interesseiro. Confesso que é esta falta de nervo de Eszter que me irrita na obra. Ela tem plena noção do embusteiro que Lajos é e, no entanto, deixa-se manietar, qual cordeiro sacrificial que segue rumo ao altar sagrado sem um balido.
“É ficção!” Dizia eu hoje a alguém a propósito de “À Espera no Centeio” e na ficção toda a inverosimilhança, mesmo aquela que mais nos exaspera, é possível e aceitável. Mas neste caso em particular, comprometeu a minha apreciação da obra.
Dito isto, não desisto de Sándor Márai! Não me conformarei como Eszter, mesmo que no fim tenha que engolir estas palavras.
O segundo livro de Márai que li foi “Rebeldes”, um livro que parecia ter sido escrito por outra pessoa, tão diferente era o estilo em relação a “As Velas Ardem Até ao Fim”; o terceiro foi este “A Herança de Eszter” que em termos de linguagem e estilo evoca “As Velas…”, mas cujo conteúdo, embora profundo, não atinge a complexa simplicidade daquele primeiro.
Eszter é uma mulher abandonada por Lajos, um trapaceiro que todos engana com o seu charme hipnótico. Os acontecimentos narrados revezam-se entre o presente, altura em que Lajos regressa de uma ausência de 20 anos e encontra uma Eszter ainda prisioneira da sua memória, e um passado repleto de enganos e promessas desfeitas.
Apesar da beleza da prosa de Sándor Márai e de algum interesse que a história me despertou, a verdade é que passei vários dias antes de conseguir reflectir sobre este livro e agora talvez entenda finalmente porquê. A minha dificuldade em expressar-me prendia-se com a minha incapacidade em compreender a postura da personagem principal face ao canalha que regressa não por arrependimento ou para se redimir de alguma forma, mas pelos motivos menos dignos. Eszter não se revolta. Não o desmascara. Não enlouquece. Continua a viver segundo as regras ditadas por um interesseiro. Confesso que é esta falta de nervo de Eszter que me irrita na obra. Ela tem plena noção do embusteiro que Lajos é e, no entanto, deixa-se manietar, qual cordeiro sacrificial que segue rumo ao altar sagrado sem um balido.
“É ficção!” Dizia eu hoje a alguém a propósito de “À Espera no Centeio” e na ficção toda a inverosimilhança, mesmo aquela que mais nos exaspera, é possível e aceitável. Mas neste caso em particular, comprometeu a minha apreciação da obra.
Dito isto, não desisto de Sándor Márai! Não me conformarei como Eszter, mesmo que no fim tenha que engolir estas palavras.
January 31, 2022
"No sé cómo sonó mi voz en aquel instante; pero probablemente no reflejó felicidad. Seguramente hablé como una sonámbula recién despertada. Aquel estado había durado veinte años. Durante veinte años yo había estado caminando así, dormida, al borde de un precipicio, con pasos decididos y sosegados, sonriendo. Entonces me desperté de golpe y ví la realidad delante de mis ojos".
Es mi primera aproximación al universo de Sandor Marai aunque la novela empieza bien, al final ha sido una absoluta decepción, no tanto por cómo escribe, ya que su estilo es exquisito, sino porque a medida que este relato largo avanzaba, me indignaba más y más y no conseguía entender al personaje de Eszter.
La historia está construida en torno a las reflexiones de Eszter y de un telegrama que recibe anunciándole el regreso de Lajos, viudo de su hermana Vilma, y el auténtico amor de su vida. Lajos y Eszter estaban enamorados cuando se cambiaron las tornas y él se casó con su hermana Vilma, dejándola en la estacada. No sólo se casó con su hermana, sino que arrasó con la mayoría de los bienes materiales de su familia a excepción de la casa y el jardín. Ahora décadas después, anuncia su regreso y durante el primer tercio del relato, las reflexiones de Eszter la llevan a recordar el pasado y a valorar ciertas decisiones. Lajos es un encantador de serpientes, mentiroso, un inconsciente sin moral ni preocupación por el prójimo solo por su egoísmo personal. Teniendo en cuenta este retrato de Lajos a través de Eszter y de alguna parte más de la familia, cuando llega Lajos a la casa acompañado de un séquito, el lector aunque tiene ya una idea de quién es, todavía espera ser sorprendido por algún matiz más, ya que ahora como personaje omnipresente se podría pensar que los recuerdos de Eszter en torno a él no fueron objetivos, pero no..., la aparición de Lajos no hizo si no indignarme más.
Quizás esté yo cometiendo un sacrilegio en torno a la laureada figura de Sandor Marai, pero me ha parecido una novela tirando a plana con personajes sin recovecos, sin matices. No veo evolución en los personajes (puede que fuera la intención del señor Marai) pero el tema era una excusa perfecta para que los personajes no se quedaran estancados. Décadas después, los personajes. Siguen siendo los mismos, y lo que es peor, el retrato que hace Sandor Marai de Eszter es para haber salido huyendo en cuanto empiezas a darte cuenta de cómo veía este hombre a la mujer.
“Pero nosotras las mujeres, no podemos ser siempre tan sabias y tan consecuentes… Ahora comprendo que no es ésa nuestra tarea. Si yo hubiese sido sabia…”
En este párrafo queda patenta que no es sólo cosa de Eszter el hecho de verse anulada y ser una mujer pasiva durante décadas victimizándose, etc, etc, sino que realmente creo que Marai veía así a las mujeres. Quizás si lo hubiese narrado desde el punto de vista de un hombre no hubiera sido tan indignante, pero el hecho de que Sandor Marai hablara a través de este personaje femenino no me ha convencido nada. Nii siquiera me ha quedado claro el final ni el porqué de las decisiones de Eszter, que me ha parecido una pánfila de cuidado. Entiendo que en aquella época no se viera venir ni de lejos lo que años después vendría a ser la autodeterminación de la mujer, pero como mínimo construir un personaje femenino con ciertos matices y profundidad psicológica. 105 páginas de una mujer lamentándose por un amor perdido, pero más allá de eso, no he visto la luz en ningún momento a modo de conectar con la historia. Todo lo contrario, a medida que avanzaba me iba indignando y enfadando más. Quizás es que no he entendido el mensaje oculto final de Sandor Marai. A ver si alguien me pudiera abrir los ojos con el final :-(
Es mi primera aproximación al universo de Sandor Marai aunque la novela empieza bien, al final ha sido una absoluta decepción, no tanto por cómo escribe, ya que su estilo es exquisito, sino porque a medida que este relato largo avanzaba, me indignaba más y más y no conseguía entender al personaje de Eszter.
La historia está construida en torno a las reflexiones de Eszter y de un telegrama que recibe anunciándole el regreso de Lajos, viudo de su hermana Vilma, y el auténtico amor de su vida. Lajos y Eszter estaban enamorados cuando se cambiaron las tornas y él se casó con su hermana Vilma, dejándola en la estacada. No sólo se casó con su hermana, sino que arrasó con la mayoría de los bienes materiales de su familia a excepción de la casa y el jardín. Ahora décadas después, anuncia su regreso y durante el primer tercio del relato, las reflexiones de Eszter la llevan a recordar el pasado y a valorar ciertas decisiones. Lajos es un encantador de serpientes, mentiroso, un inconsciente sin moral ni preocupación por el prójimo solo por su egoísmo personal. Teniendo en cuenta este retrato de Lajos a través de Eszter y de alguna parte más de la familia, cuando llega Lajos a la casa acompañado de un séquito, el lector aunque tiene ya una idea de quién es, todavía espera ser sorprendido por algún matiz más, ya que ahora como personaje omnipresente se podría pensar que los recuerdos de Eszter en torno a él no fueron objetivos, pero no..., la aparición de Lajos no hizo si no indignarme más.
Quizás esté yo cometiendo un sacrilegio en torno a la laureada figura de Sandor Marai, pero me ha parecido una novela tirando a plana con personajes sin recovecos, sin matices. No veo evolución en los personajes (puede que fuera la intención del señor Marai) pero el tema era una excusa perfecta para que los personajes no se quedaran estancados. Décadas después, los personajes. Siguen siendo los mismos, y lo que es peor, el retrato que hace Sandor Marai de Eszter es para haber salido huyendo en cuanto empiezas a darte cuenta de cómo veía este hombre a la mujer.
“Pero nosotras las mujeres, no podemos ser siempre tan sabias y tan consecuentes… Ahora comprendo que no es ésa nuestra tarea. Si yo hubiese sido sabia…”
En este párrafo queda patenta que no es sólo cosa de Eszter el hecho de verse anulada y ser una mujer pasiva durante décadas victimizándose, etc, etc, sino que realmente creo que Marai veía así a las mujeres. Quizás si lo hubiese narrado desde el punto de vista de un hombre no hubiera sido tan indignante, pero el hecho de que Sandor Marai hablara a través de este personaje femenino no me ha convencido nada. Nii siquiera me ha quedado claro el final ni el porqué de las decisiones de Eszter, que me ha parecido una pánfila de cuidado. Entiendo que en aquella época no se viera venir ni de lejos lo que años después vendría a ser la autodeterminación de la mujer, pero como mínimo construir un personaje femenino con ciertos matices y profundidad psicológica. 105 páginas de una mujer lamentándose por un amor perdido, pero más allá de eso, no he visto la luz en ningún momento a modo de conectar con la historia. Todo lo contrario, a medida que avanzaba me iba indignando y enfadando más. Quizás es que no he entendido el mensaje oculto final de Sandor Marai. A ver si alguien me pudiera abrir los ojos con el final :-(
December 17, 2017
Ci sono libri che dopo 700 pagine ti lasciano un vuoto immenso, ed altri che con solo 100 pagine ti riempiono il cuore di emozioni. Anche questo è Sandor Marai
October 11, 2021
Kratko delo Šandora Maraija koje ga ističe kao izuzetnog poznavaoca kompleksnih i zakukuljenih međuljudskih odnosa. Popustljiva, saosećajna Ester i lažljivi, manipulativni Lajoš i dinamika njihove višedecenijske veze sigurno vas neće ostaviti ravnodušnim.
3/5
3/5
May 14, 2017
Selten klappte ich ein Buch mit derartigem verblüfften heiligen Zorn zu wie dieses, denn alle inneren Antriebe der Hauptprotagonistin zu ihren völlig wahnwitzigen selbstzerstörerischen Handlungen sind so unglaubwürdig und wurden mir einfach vom Autor überhaupt nicht erklärt. Da hilft es auch nichts, dass das Buch von einem Schriftsteller aus einer anderen Zeit und Generation vor der Emanzipation stammt, in der die Frauen allesamt noch gefügige arme Hascherln warn, aber so dämlich, sich wie ein Lemming ohne Zwangslage freiwillig von einer Klippe zu stürzen, das brachten nicht mal die naivdümmsten Vorkriegsfrauen zustande.
Aber nochmals zurück zur Ausgangslage: Das Buch beginnt eigentlich in gewohnter Marai Qualität als wortgewaltiges Psychogram des Schlawiners, Strizzis, Pülchers, Falotten (ui da poppt das österreichisch/ungarische Synonymwörterbuch in meinem Schädl automatisch auf) Lajos, geschrieben von jener Frau Eszter, die er am meisten um ihr Leben und ihr halbes Vermögen beschissen hat. Als sich Lajos zu Besuch ansagt, will er von ihr auch noch den kümmerlichen Rest ihrer Existenz und sie überschreibt ihm ihr Haus, um fortan ihr Leben im Armenhaus zu fristen.
So weit so gut - die Schuldgefühle und die Tränendrüse auf die der Schwindler wortreich, eloquent, übergriffig, manipulierend und mit gewiefter emotionaler Erpressung drückt, sind ja durchaus nachvollziehbar und gut beschrieben. Aber warum Esther auf die Forderungen eingeht, erschließt sich mir nicht. Offenbar versteht es jeder, die Hausdame, der Familienanwalt, Sandor Marai - nur der Leser bleibt kopfschüttelnd und völlig ahnungslos zurück. Nun wäre es nicht so verwerflich, wenn Marai das Buch aus männlicher Perspektive geschrieben hätte, dann könnte man noch sagen, so stellt sich der kleine Sandor völlig unrealistisch und hirnverbrannt die unterwürfigen dummen Weiber vor (dies tat auch schon mal Murakami und wurde von mir deshalb besser bewertet), aber das Buch auch noch quasi aus der Frauenperspektive herauszuschreiben, ist tatsächlich ein verdammtes Sakrileg. Marai macht sich ja nicht mal die Mühe, uns schlüssig zu erklären, was die Meinungsänderung von Esther wirklich verursacht hat. So quasi - sie ist eine Frau - deshalb muss sie sich naiv dumm opfern. Punkt.
Da fühle ich mich als Mensch und als weibliches Wesen übelst beleidigt, und müsste Marai dringend empfehlen (sofern er noch leben würde), dass er über Sachen schreiben sollte, von denen er was versteht, aber auf keinen Fall über Frauen. In die Haut alternder Männer konnte er gut hineinschlüpfen über Frauen hätte er nie schreiben dürfen, dafür war er zu respektlos und präpotent-dämlich.
Selbst wenn ich ein armes weibliches Hascherl vor 1914 gewesen wäre, die noch nie was von feministischen Ideen gehört und nie aufgemuckt hätte, hätte ich mich nach damaligen Maßstäben gemansplaint gefühlt und auf diesen Roman ordentlich gespuckt.
Ach ja Stern 2 gibt es für die Form und Sprache, denn schreiben kann er ja der Herr Marai.
Aber nochmals zurück zur Ausgangslage: Das Buch beginnt eigentlich in gewohnter Marai Qualität als wortgewaltiges Psychogram des Schlawiners, Strizzis, Pülchers, Falotten (ui da poppt das österreichisch/ungarische Synonymwörterbuch in meinem Schädl automatisch auf) Lajos, geschrieben von jener Frau Eszter, die er am meisten um ihr Leben und ihr halbes Vermögen beschissen hat. Als sich Lajos zu Besuch ansagt, will er von ihr auch noch den kümmerlichen Rest ihrer Existenz und sie überschreibt ihm ihr Haus, um fortan ihr Leben im Armenhaus zu fristen.
So weit so gut - die Schuldgefühle und die Tränendrüse auf die der Schwindler wortreich, eloquent, übergriffig, manipulierend und mit gewiefter emotionaler Erpressung drückt, sind ja durchaus nachvollziehbar und gut beschrieben. Aber warum Esther auf die Forderungen eingeht, erschließt sich mir nicht. Offenbar versteht es jeder, die Hausdame, der Familienanwalt, Sandor Marai - nur der Leser bleibt kopfschüttelnd und völlig ahnungslos zurück. Nun wäre es nicht so verwerflich, wenn Marai das Buch aus männlicher Perspektive geschrieben hätte, dann könnte man noch sagen, so stellt sich der kleine Sandor völlig unrealistisch und hirnverbrannt die unterwürfigen dummen Weiber vor (dies tat auch schon mal Murakami und wurde von mir deshalb besser bewertet), aber das Buch auch noch quasi aus der Frauenperspektive herauszuschreiben, ist tatsächlich ein verdammtes Sakrileg. Marai macht sich ja nicht mal die Mühe, uns schlüssig zu erklären, was die Meinungsänderung von Esther wirklich verursacht hat. So quasi - sie ist eine Frau - deshalb muss sie sich naiv dumm opfern. Punkt.
Da fühle ich mich als Mensch und als weibliches Wesen übelst beleidigt, und müsste Marai dringend empfehlen (sofern er noch leben würde), dass er über Sachen schreiben sollte, von denen er was versteht, aber auf keinen Fall über Frauen. In die Haut alternder Männer konnte er gut hineinschlüpfen über Frauen hätte er nie schreiben dürfen, dafür war er zu respektlos und präpotent-dämlich.
Selbst wenn ich ein armes weibliches Hascherl vor 1914 gewesen wäre, die noch nie was von feministischen Ideen gehört und nie aufgemuckt hätte, hätte ich mich nach damaligen Maßstäben gemansplaint gefühlt und auf diesen Roman ordentlich gespuckt.
Ach ja Stern 2 gibt es für die Form und Sprache, denn schreiben kann er ja der Herr Marai.
January 7, 2014
This beautiful and overlooked novella from an unknown (BURIED, much?) Hungarian author hits all the right notes in telling a story of Esther, our narrator, and her past coming through to her present on a Sunday afternoon. Her old flame is back in town after a 20 year absence - his unexpected arrival forces an aged Esther and her remaining family to deal with their future in light of the past. How much truth is in those memories? As new information about the past is revealed, Esther and her extended family must decide what is truth.
A powerful, quick read. Recommended (and thanks to Proustitute for sending this my way!)
March 30, 2017
4,5
Me encanta cómo escribe Sándor Márai, para mí leerle es siempre una maravilla y este caso no es una excepción.
La historia de amor de Eszter es tan conmovedora como irritante, tan incomprensible como lógica.
La descripción psicológica de los personajes es perfecta y los diálogos y pensamientos que mantienen son el reflejo de su naturaleza, de su carácter, tan bien expresados que, aunque algunos razonamientos puedan parecerte imposibles, tienes que rendirte a la coherencia de la evolución de la historia.
Siempre que me cruce con un libro de Márai, no dudaré en leerlo y disfrutarlo.
Me encanta cómo escribe Sándor Márai, para mí leerle es siempre una maravilla y este caso no es una excepción.
La historia de amor de Eszter es tan conmovedora como irritante, tan incomprensible como lógica.
La descripción psicológica de los personajes es perfecta y los diálogos y pensamientos que mantienen son el reflejo de su naturaleza, de su carácter, tan bien expresados que, aunque algunos razonamientos puedan parecerte imposibles, tienes que rendirte a la coherencia de la evolución de la historia.
Siempre que me cruce con un libro de Márai, no dudaré en leerlo y disfrutarlo.
April 12, 2026
A woman in love is a thing of fluid nature. She can display a range of emotions, one cascading across the arc of rainbow, embracing all colors – bright, dark, meh – and dispelling them with equal vigor. A being into which the fervent and the fragile converge like twins. And Esther, despite the passing of two decades, showed no sign of being anything else.
The book opens with the news of Lajos returning, after twenty years, to the town where Esther is now residing with Nunu, her caretaker. Esther and Lajos were in love in their young days. But circumstances forced Lajos to marry her younger sister, Vilma, instead, and leave the town. Devastation had entered into her veins and raged for many a days and nights thereafter, before sediments of time had eventually settled over it, blunting its teeth. But with the news of Lajos returning, and his children in tow, something in her gets woken up, and that something gets twinged with both curiosity and apprehension. Because Lajos, since his departure, owes a lot of money, has lied through his teeth, and appears to have not shed his coat of manipulation.
There are few authors who sit by the side and watch the human emotion breathe. They catch every flutter, every twist, every little breath, every little frown. They dig deep and feel the texture, they open arms and take the scents. They don’t judge its foolish days, they marvel at its master strokes. And in Márai’s world, I have habitually seen, his wisdom leaving me stunned, but mostly, humbled and empathetic.
Like the narrators of his other works, Esther too, is remarkable in her observations and decisions. She maintains that memory is almost as ruthless as time, and the deads have much stronger hold on us than we ever give them credit for. Her rational self is repeatedly interrupted by her nostalgic self, and at the crossroads of this battle, Lajos lands with a most atrocious request.
I found some in here too, and I closed the book with a long sigh, much like his heroine.
The book opens with the news of Lajos returning, after twenty years, to the town where Esther is now residing with Nunu, her caretaker. Esther and Lajos were in love in their young days. But circumstances forced Lajos to marry her younger sister, Vilma, instead, and leave the town. Devastation had entered into her veins and raged for many a days and nights thereafter, before sediments of time had eventually settled over it, blunting its teeth. But with the news of Lajos returning, and his children in tow, something in her gets woken up, and that something gets twinged with both curiosity and apprehension. Because Lajos, since his departure, owes a lot of money, has lied through his teeth, and appears to have not shed his coat of manipulation.
…he lied the way the wind howls, with a certain natural energy, in high spirits.So, what is he coming for?
There are few authors who sit by the side and watch the human emotion breathe. They catch every flutter, every twist, every little breath, every little frown. They dig deep and feel the texture, they open arms and take the scents. They don’t judge its foolish days, they marvel at its master strokes. And in Márai’s world, I have habitually seen, his wisdom leaving me stunned, but mostly, humbled and empathetic.
Like the narrators of his other works, Esther too, is remarkable in her observations and decisions. She maintains that memory is almost as ruthless as time, and the deads have much stronger hold on us than we ever give them credit for. Her rational self is repeatedly interrupted by her nostalgic self, and at the crossroads of this battle, Lajos lands with a most atrocious request.
We put aside the excuses. There remained the fury, the hot thick feeling that floods every inch of the human landscape with its muddy slime, and when Vilma died there were no family ties left, only a blank floodplain of hatred.In perceptions that cut through noise, the machinations of love and regret are gorgeously etched in this novella. And in the grand scheme of things, the Hungarian master never loses sight of small victories.
I found some in here too, and I closed the book with a long sigh, much like his heroine.
June 17, 2019
Ha sido mi primer acercamiento a Márai y me ha gustado mucho.
Es una historia bastante melancólica y triste, transmite al lector un montón de sensaciones a favor y en contra de los protagonistas que no te dejan indiferente.
Es un libro muy cortito y se lee muy bien pero me costó pillarle el punto a las decisiones de Eszter.
Reseña: https://contandoteunlibro.blogspot.co...
Es una historia bastante melancólica y triste, transmite al lector un montón de sensaciones a favor y en contra de los protagonistas que no te dejan indiferente.
Es un libro muy cortito y se lee muy bien pero me costó pillarle el punto a las decisiones de Eszter.
Reseña: https://contandoteunlibro.blogspot.co...
August 24, 2017
Eszter, la protagonista che narra la storia, vive un'esistenza silenziosa e appartata nell'attesa del ritorno del suo unico e incompiuto amore, Lajos: uno spregevole dongiovanni, un bugiardo, spergiuro e debitore perenne che vent'anni prima l'aveva ingannata e alla fine aveva sposato, senza amore, Vilma, la sorella di Eszter.
Eszter da vent’anni insegue nel ricordo questo suo grande amore e attende il ritorno di Lajos per avere la spiegazione di quel gesto che ha sospeso la sua esistenza. Alla sua attesa si contrappone l'inconcludente attività di Lajos che ha vissuto alla ricerca spasmodica di denaro. Lajos è un avventuriero che ha alternato periodi di ozio a imprese destinate a fallire. Alla fine gli sono rimasti solo i debiti da pagare, che sono ciò che spinge Lajos a tornare da Eszter per chiederle l’ultimo sacrificio: la sua casa, l’unica cosa che le è rimasta.
Lajos confessa il suo antico amore per Eszter, che viene a conoscenza dopo vent'anni che Lajos, una settimana prima del matrimonio, si era pentito e le aveva scritto delle lettere che non le erano mai arrivate, in quanto intercettate dalla sorella. Il destino di Lajos e di Eszter si conclude con il loro amore morto e senza avvenire e nell'odio della sorella defunta.
Alla fine Eszter resterà sola senza più nulla, mentre Lajos continuerà a vivacchiare nel suo grottesco mondo.
Il libro parla dell'incapacità di vivere, dell'azzardo che a volte non osiamo tentare. Forse nella vita siamo tutti incapaci di fare grandi scommesse, di gettarci in azzardi rischiosi per paura di fare fiasco e attendiamo invece spesso eventi che poi non arrivano. Evitiamo così i fallimenti, ma finiamo col perderci a poco a poco.
È un bellissimo romanzo di poche pagine, intenso e articolato, che si gioca sui tempi rallentati, sul ritorno dopo molti anni di qualcuno nella nostra vita. Lunghi dialoghi e monologhi psicologici, tipici di Marai, dove le passioni e i sentimenti vengono profondamente scandagliati.
Eszter da vent’anni insegue nel ricordo questo suo grande amore e attende il ritorno di Lajos per avere la spiegazione di quel gesto che ha sospeso la sua esistenza. Alla sua attesa si contrappone l'inconcludente attività di Lajos che ha vissuto alla ricerca spasmodica di denaro. Lajos è un avventuriero che ha alternato periodi di ozio a imprese destinate a fallire. Alla fine gli sono rimasti solo i debiti da pagare, che sono ciò che spinge Lajos a tornare da Eszter per chiederle l’ultimo sacrificio: la sua casa, l’unica cosa che le è rimasta.
Lajos confessa il suo antico amore per Eszter, che viene a conoscenza dopo vent'anni che Lajos, una settimana prima del matrimonio, si era pentito e le aveva scritto delle lettere che non le erano mai arrivate, in quanto intercettate dalla sorella. Il destino di Lajos e di Eszter si conclude con il loro amore morto e senza avvenire e nell'odio della sorella defunta.
Alla fine Eszter resterà sola senza più nulla, mentre Lajos continuerà a vivacchiare nel suo grottesco mondo.
Il libro parla dell'incapacità di vivere, dell'azzardo che a volte non osiamo tentare. Forse nella vita siamo tutti incapaci di fare grandi scommesse, di gettarci in azzardi rischiosi per paura di fare fiasco e attendiamo invece spesso eventi che poi non arrivano. Evitiamo così i fallimenti, ma finiamo col perderci a poco a poco.
È un bellissimo romanzo di poche pagine, intenso e articolato, che si gioca sui tempi rallentati, sul ritorno dopo molti anni di qualcuno nella nostra vita. Lunghi dialoghi e monologhi psicologici, tipici di Marai, dove le passioni e i sentimenti vengono profondamente scandagliati.
February 27, 2023
İşin Aslı, Judith ve Sonrası ile hayran kaldığım Sandor Marai, Eszter’in Mirası ile beni oldukça hayal kırıklığına uğrattı. Karakterler derinleşmediği için Eszter’in kararlarını anlamakta ve içselleştirmekte çok zorlandım. Kitabın arka kapağında yazan “Eszter’in neredeyse bir trans halindeymişçesine felakete doğru koşan halkları, karizmatik liderlerce boş vaatlerle kandırılan kitleleri, zayıf iradelilerin daha güçlü görünenlere teslimiyetini simgelediği” görüşünü ilginç buldum. Ancak romanda bu simgelemeye dair hiçbir şeyin olmaması da beni düşüncelere gark etti. Kısacası hiç sevemedim ama Marai okumaya devam edeceğim.
January 2, 2019
Quattro stelline e mezzo!
L'eredità di Eszter l'ho trovato per certi versi molto simile a Le braci ma non per questo meno bello.
Il filo conduttore in entrambi è l'attesa, in questo caso però è un'attesa terribile perchè Eszter rivela al lettore fin dall'inizio come andrà a finire. E il lettore vorrebbe svegliarla, scuoterla perchè reagisse, e non permettesse l'evolversi degli eventi in modo così impassibile. Eszter lo sa com'è Lajos, lei è quella che lo conosce meglio, tutti si lasciano abbindolare da lui e anche lei alla fine anche lei lo fa.
Non c'è altro da dire, Marai è un grande!
L'eredità di Eszter l'ho trovato per certi versi molto simile a Le braci ma non per questo meno bello.
Il filo conduttore in entrambi è l'attesa, in questo caso però è un'attesa terribile perchè Eszter rivela al lettore fin dall'inizio come andrà a finire. E il lettore vorrebbe svegliarla, scuoterla perchè reagisse, e non permettesse l'evolversi degli eventi in modo così impassibile. Eszter lo sa com'è Lajos, lei è quella che lo conosce meglio, tutti si lasciano abbindolare da lui e anche lei alla fine anche lei lo fa.
Non c'è altro da dire, Marai è un grande!
December 30, 2020
Das Vermächtnis der Eszter als politische Parabel – Versuch einer alternativen Lesart.
Mein dritter Sandor Marai und so weit das Buch mit dem geringsten Lesevergnügen. Ich habe keine Probleme damit, erstens ist das Buch herzlich kurz und zweitens gibt es, gerade im Vergleich mit anderen Werken dieses Autors, einige nicht zu unterschätzende Erkenntnisse, auch wenn sich die eher einstellen, wenn sich das erste Missvergnügen über eine komplett enttäuschende Erzählerin gelegt hat, die zwar zu gewissen Einsichten, aber zu keinerlei nennenswertem Widerstand fähig ist.
Ein Hauptgrund für die Auswahl des im absinkenden Bürgertum angesiedelten Glut-Vorgängers, war eine andere Perspektive und vielleicht einen ausgeglicheneren Schuld-Dialog zwischen einer Geschädigtem und dem Übeltäter, nach dem Quasi-Monolog des alten Grafen. Gerade nach dem Männerbuch und ein paar vereinzelten Referenzen auf eine Frau, die sich nicht mehr wehren kann, erschien die weibliche Perspektive ein zusätzlicher Bonus für den früher entstandenen Roman. In dieser Hinsicht wie in der Erwartung einer starke Frau, die dazu in der Lage ist Position zu beziehen, erweist sich schmale Bändchen als hoffnungsloser Fall. Die gute Eszter hat nicht allzu viel zu sagen, außer, dass sie das ganze Manöver von Anfang an durchschaut. Vielmehr handelt es sich um ein derart auswegloses Geschöpf, dass es auch die wortwörtliche Aufforderung zur eigenen Hinrichtung unterschrieben hätte. Sprich die dümmsten Kälber wählen ihre Metzger selber.
Umkehrung der Schuldfrage
Der Wanderzirkus eines Lajos und die mit dem Hochstapler verbundenen Existenzen und Verwandten setzen natürlich buntere Reize als der Graf und seine Amme, aber Marai komponiert auch hier auf einen Höhepunkt-Dialog hin, der sich schnell zum Monolog eines Mannes entwickelt, der sich als Opfer darstellt und dem Gegenüber die Last der Sühne aufdrückt. Beim Hallodri Lajos lässt sich dieses Schema zwar leichter durchschauen als beim Glut-Grafen oder dem spät auf den Knaben-Geschmack gekommenen Pfandleiher Zavas, der immerhin bereit ist, für die Befriedigung seiner Gelüste zu zahlen, auch wenn er seine Opfer erst in die alternativlose Situation gebracht hat. Im Hinblick auf Zavas Manipulationen bei den Jungen Rebellen erscheinen mir Evas Eröffnungen als Teil der Strategie, mit der eine zum Opfer bereite Frau weich geklopft werden soll.
Dass Eszter gerade auf das schwächste Argument anspringt, erscheint zwar besonders tragisch oder ärgerlich, ist aber zugleich charakteristisch für sie als Person wie für Frauen dieser Generation. Dass die Heldin seinen Wurm mit dem zu Ende bringen frisst, auch wenn es sich um den endgültigen Ruin handelt, entspricht wohl ihrem Temperament und ist vielleicht auch ein letztes Aufflackern der romantischen bzw. Fin-de-Siècle-Opfer-Liebestod-Haltung auf schäbigstem Niveau. Genügend Schmöker aus der Ära hat sie sich ja seinerzeit reingezogen und, im Gegensatz zu Lajos, auch gelesen*.
Politisch motivierte Abschweifung
Die Positionen des irrlichternden Hochstaplers Lajos sind natürlich für Außenstehende eine echte Zumutung, machen aber zugleich deutlich, dass dieser Parasit seine Luftnummern nur deshalb immer wieder durchziehen kann, weil ihm die Gesellschaft, wider besseres Wissen, die Gelegenheit zur nächsten Wiederholung einräumt.
Wahrscheinlich ist Das Vermächtnis der Eszter erst aus dem Rückblick des entsprechend vorbelasteten Lesers eine Parabel auf die Politik und gewisse Rattenfänger und nicht mehr als das Psychogramm einer Frau ohne Perspektive, die auf gewisse weltanschauliche Prägungen reagiert. Aber die Art und Weise wie Adolf Hitler das deutsche Wertesystem sowie das Geistesgut von Romantik bis Fin-de-Siècle wie die Wirtschaftsleistung für seine Zwecke plünderte legt auch einen politischen Subtext nahe, der dem früheren Berliner Korrespondenten der Frankfurter Zeitung, der gerade miterlebt, wie sich sein Land auf die Nazis einlässt, durchaus zuzutrauen ist.
Marai lebte zum Zeitpunkt der Niederschrift in der Horthy-Diktatur, die im Entstehungsjahr der Erzählung Jubelpostkarten mit dem Führer und Reichsverweser samt Gattin drucken ließ. Der Greise Admiral wurde später ja denn auch als Geisel genommen und in Schloss Kleßheim bei Salzburg festgehalten, als er aus dem ruinösen Bündnis mit Großdeutschland wieder raus wollte. Falls Das Vermächtnis der Eszster als verschlüsselte Warnung gemeint war, dann geht Eszter in der seltsamen Gemeinschaft düsteren Zeiten entgegen.
* Aus historischer Perspektive drängt sich in Sachen selektiver Lektüre und Leute, die es besser wissen müssten an der Nase herum führen oder ins Unrecht setzen, natürlich Hitler als politisches Gegenstück zu Lajos auf. Der GröFaz erschlug seine Generäle, wenn sie an der Logik seiner militärischen Entscheidungen zweifelten, mit Clausewitz-Zitaten, die er aus einem schmalen Auswahl-Bändchen bezog. Das konnte Marai noch nicht wissen, aber es gibt schon in Mein Kampf ziemlich entlarvende Passagen über die ziemlich selektive Lesewahrnehmung des Helden dieser Saga.
Fazit: In Sachen reines Lesevergnügen zweieinhalb Sterne, nehme mir aber ein Beispiel an der Titelheldin und runde auf drei auf, zumal das Buch, wenn man den Kontext der Entstehungszeit dazu addiert, schon seine Meriten hat.
Aus Powerfrauen-Feminismus-Perspektive ist Das Vermächtnis der Eszter eine glatte Enttäuschung, in Sachen leidenschaftliche Abrechnung gibt es auch nichts zur berichten.
Falls jemand wissen will, welche Partien mir rein literarisch besonders gut gefallen haben, dann würde ich die prophetische Unterhaltung mit der gnädigen Frau Olga, das Gespräch mit Eva und die erste Hälfte der Auseinandersetzung mit Lajos, sowie die Partie, in der sich der Opportunist seine Ausführungen über ihre Rolle als moralisch stärkerer Teil gleich wieder zurück nimmt. Dass am Ende mal wieder die Kerzen erlöschen müssen, nervt zwar, aber anscheinend kommt Marai ohne diese Symbolik nicht aus. Nach weiterer Auseinandersetzung mit Marais Werk haben sich die mehrstimmigen Wandlungen einer Ehe, in denen unterschiedliche Perspektiven und die Wertsetzungen von Betrogenen und Betrügern zu Wort kommen als das Wunschbuch oder Gegenentwurf zum Monolog des Grafen aus Glut erwiesen.
Mein dritter Sandor Marai und so weit das Buch mit dem geringsten Lesevergnügen. Ich habe keine Probleme damit, erstens ist das Buch herzlich kurz und zweitens gibt es, gerade im Vergleich mit anderen Werken dieses Autors, einige nicht zu unterschätzende Erkenntnisse, auch wenn sich die eher einstellen, wenn sich das erste Missvergnügen über eine komplett enttäuschende Erzählerin gelegt hat, die zwar zu gewissen Einsichten, aber zu keinerlei nennenswertem Widerstand fähig ist.
Ein Hauptgrund für die Auswahl des im absinkenden Bürgertum angesiedelten Glut-Vorgängers, war eine andere Perspektive und vielleicht einen ausgeglicheneren Schuld-Dialog zwischen einer Geschädigtem und dem Übeltäter, nach dem Quasi-Monolog des alten Grafen. Gerade nach dem Männerbuch und ein paar vereinzelten Referenzen auf eine Frau, die sich nicht mehr wehren kann, erschien die weibliche Perspektive ein zusätzlicher Bonus für den früher entstandenen Roman. In dieser Hinsicht wie in der Erwartung einer starke Frau, die dazu in der Lage ist Position zu beziehen, erweist sich schmale Bändchen als hoffnungsloser Fall. Die gute Eszter hat nicht allzu viel zu sagen, außer, dass sie das ganze Manöver von Anfang an durchschaut. Vielmehr handelt es sich um ein derart auswegloses Geschöpf, dass es auch die wortwörtliche Aufforderung zur eigenen Hinrichtung unterschrieben hätte. Sprich die dümmsten Kälber wählen ihre Metzger selber.
Umkehrung der Schuldfrage
Der Wanderzirkus eines Lajos und die mit dem Hochstapler verbundenen Existenzen und Verwandten setzen natürlich buntere Reize als der Graf und seine Amme, aber Marai komponiert auch hier auf einen Höhepunkt-Dialog hin, der sich schnell zum Monolog eines Mannes entwickelt, der sich als Opfer darstellt und dem Gegenüber die Last der Sühne aufdrückt. Beim Hallodri Lajos lässt sich dieses Schema zwar leichter durchschauen als beim Glut-Grafen oder dem spät auf den Knaben-Geschmack gekommenen Pfandleiher Zavas, der immerhin bereit ist, für die Befriedigung seiner Gelüste zu zahlen, auch wenn er seine Opfer erst in die alternativlose Situation gebracht hat. Im Hinblick auf Zavas Manipulationen bei den Jungen Rebellen erscheinen mir Evas Eröffnungen als Teil der Strategie, mit der eine zum Opfer bereite Frau weich geklopft werden soll.
Dass Eszter gerade auf das schwächste Argument anspringt, erscheint zwar besonders tragisch oder ärgerlich, ist aber zugleich charakteristisch für sie als Person wie für Frauen dieser Generation. Dass die Heldin seinen Wurm mit dem zu Ende bringen frisst, auch wenn es sich um den endgültigen Ruin handelt, entspricht wohl ihrem Temperament und ist vielleicht auch ein letztes Aufflackern der romantischen bzw. Fin-de-Siècle-Opfer-Liebestod-Haltung auf schäbigstem Niveau. Genügend Schmöker aus der Ära hat sie sich ja seinerzeit reingezogen und, im Gegensatz zu Lajos, auch gelesen*.
Politisch motivierte Abschweifung
Die Positionen des irrlichternden Hochstaplers Lajos sind natürlich für Außenstehende eine echte Zumutung, machen aber zugleich deutlich, dass dieser Parasit seine Luftnummern nur deshalb immer wieder durchziehen kann, weil ihm die Gesellschaft, wider besseres Wissen, die Gelegenheit zur nächsten Wiederholung einräumt.
Wahrscheinlich ist Das Vermächtnis der Eszter erst aus dem Rückblick des entsprechend vorbelasteten Lesers eine Parabel auf die Politik und gewisse Rattenfänger und nicht mehr als das Psychogramm einer Frau ohne Perspektive, die auf gewisse weltanschauliche Prägungen reagiert. Aber die Art und Weise wie Adolf Hitler das deutsche Wertesystem sowie das Geistesgut von Romantik bis Fin-de-Siècle wie die Wirtschaftsleistung für seine Zwecke plünderte legt auch einen politischen Subtext nahe, der dem früheren Berliner Korrespondenten der Frankfurter Zeitung, der gerade miterlebt, wie sich sein Land auf die Nazis einlässt, durchaus zuzutrauen ist.
Marai lebte zum Zeitpunkt der Niederschrift in der Horthy-Diktatur, die im Entstehungsjahr der Erzählung Jubelpostkarten mit dem Führer und Reichsverweser samt Gattin drucken ließ. Der Greise Admiral wurde später ja denn auch als Geisel genommen und in Schloss Kleßheim bei Salzburg festgehalten, als er aus dem ruinösen Bündnis mit Großdeutschland wieder raus wollte. Falls Das Vermächtnis der Eszster als verschlüsselte Warnung gemeint war, dann geht Eszter in der seltsamen Gemeinschaft düsteren Zeiten entgegen.
* Aus historischer Perspektive drängt sich in Sachen selektiver Lektüre und Leute, die es besser wissen müssten an der Nase herum führen oder ins Unrecht setzen, natürlich Hitler als politisches Gegenstück zu Lajos auf. Der GröFaz erschlug seine Generäle, wenn sie an der Logik seiner militärischen Entscheidungen zweifelten, mit Clausewitz-Zitaten, die er aus einem schmalen Auswahl-Bändchen bezog. Das konnte Marai noch nicht wissen, aber es gibt schon in Mein Kampf ziemlich entlarvende Passagen über die ziemlich selektive Lesewahrnehmung des Helden dieser Saga.
Fazit: In Sachen reines Lesevergnügen zweieinhalb Sterne, nehme mir aber ein Beispiel an der Titelheldin und runde auf drei auf, zumal das Buch, wenn man den Kontext der Entstehungszeit dazu addiert, schon seine Meriten hat.
Aus Powerfrauen-Feminismus-Perspektive ist Das Vermächtnis der Eszter eine glatte Enttäuschung, in Sachen leidenschaftliche Abrechnung gibt es auch nichts zur berichten.
Falls jemand wissen will, welche Partien mir rein literarisch besonders gut gefallen haben, dann würde ich die prophetische Unterhaltung mit der gnädigen Frau Olga, das Gespräch mit Eva und die erste Hälfte der Auseinandersetzung mit Lajos, sowie die Partie, in der sich der Opportunist seine Ausführungen über ihre Rolle als moralisch stärkerer Teil gleich wieder zurück nimmt. Dass am Ende mal wieder die Kerzen erlöschen müssen, nervt zwar, aber anscheinend kommt Marai ohne diese Symbolik nicht aus. Nach weiterer Auseinandersetzung mit Marais Werk haben sich die mehrstimmigen Wandlungen einer Ehe, in denen unterschiedliche Perspektiven und die Wertsetzungen von Betrogenen und Betrügern zu Wort kommen als das Wunschbuch oder Gegenentwurf zum Monolog des Grafen aus Glut erwiesen.
July 8, 2023
Moṣtenirea Eszterei = a fi considerat cu bunã ṣtiințã ṣi în mod voit fraier ṣi preabun de cãtre cei din jurul tãu, nu conteazã cât de ticãloṣi / nerecunoscãtori ar fi apoi aceṣtia. O filozofie greu de aplicat în viața realã, dar nu imposibil. Uneori aceasta este singura cale spre o stare de siguranţă cunoscută, o siguranţă specifică naufragiului şi fericirii lipsite de doruri.
"După un anumit timp, nu se mai poate „repara” nimic între doi oameni; am înţeles acest adevăr deznădăjduit în clipa în care stăteam amândoi pe băncuţa de piatră. Omul trăieşte, îşi tot cârpeşte, îşi repară, îşi construieşte viaţa, apoi uneori şi-o strică; odată cu trecerea timpului îşi dă seama că totul, aşa cum este, alcătuit din greşeli şi din momente întâmplătoare, este irevocabil. Când cineva apare din negura trecutului şi afirmă pe un ton sentimental că vrea să repare „totul”, nu poţi să faci altceva decât să-i compătimeşti intenţia şi să râzi de ea; timpul „a reparat” deja totul, într-un mod special, singurul mod posibil."
Există ceva ce puțini oameni cunosc, un anume fel de demnitate modestă, demnitatea existenţei. Gata cu umilinţele. Minunatã ṣi subtilã lecție ne-ai dat tu, dragã Ezstera!
"După un anumit timp, nu se mai poate „repara” nimic între doi oameni; am înţeles acest adevăr deznădăjduit în clipa în care stăteam amândoi pe băncuţa de piatră. Omul trăieşte, îşi tot cârpeşte, îşi repară, îşi construieşte viaţa, apoi uneori şi-o strică; odată cu trecerea timpului îşi dă seama că totul, aşa cum este, alcătuit din greşeli şi din momente întâmplătoare, este irevocabil. Când cineva apare din negura trecutului şi afirmă pe un ton sentimental că vrea să repare „totul”, nu poţi să faci altceva decât să-i compătimeşti intenţia şi să râzi de ea; timpul „a reparat” deja totul, într-un mod special, singurul mod posibil."
Există ceva ce puțini oameni cunosc, un anume fel de demnitate modestă, demnitatea existenţei. Gata cu umilinţele. Minunatã ṣi subtilã lecție ne-ai dat tu, dragã Ezstera!
December 26, 2023
"Sevdiğimiz birini yeniden görmek, polisiye romanlarda anlatıldığı gibi, karşı konulamaz bir zorunluluğun etkisiyle yeniden 'suç mahalline' dönmek gibi bir şey değil mi?"
İşin Aslı, Judit ve Sonrası ile tanıyıp çok sevdiğim Macar yazar Sandor Marai'den okuduğum ikinci kitap oldu "Eszter'in Mirası". Yer yer parlak kısımları ve akılda kalıcı tespitleri olmakla beraber, Judit'e kıyasla epeyce zayıf bir roman olduğunu söylemem lazım.
Kendisini aldatıp dolandırarak yıllar önce kız kardeşiyle evlenen Lajos'un geri dönüşüyle beraber Eszter'in yaşadıkları anlatılıyor bu küçük romanda. Arka kapakta "Eszter’in neredeyse bir trans halindeymişçesine felakete doğru koşan halkları, karizmatik liderlerce boş vaatlerle kandırılan kitleleri, zayıf iradelilerin daha güçlü görünenlere teslimiyetini simgelediği" gibi bir iddia var ama açıkçası bana biraz fazlaca bir mânâ atfetme gibi geldi bu. Eszter'in bunu simgelediğine dair pek bir şey anlamıyoruz zira kitaptan, bence epeyce kişisel bir hikaye bu.
Müthiş asap bozucu biri olan Lajos karakteri, Dostoyevski romanlarındaki bazı tipleri andırıyor, kendisi neredeyse Stepançikovo Köyü ve Sakinleri'ndeki Foma Fomiç kadar sinir bozucu. (Neredeyse, tabii, zira onun kadar tahammül edilemez olmak zor şüphesiz.) Kitaptaki insanların, özellikle Eszter'in motivasyonunu anlamak zor, karakterlerin pek çok davranışı ikna edici olmaktan uzak. Dolayısıyla insan içine giremiyor pek metnin. Sürükleyici, hızlı okunan, dediğim gibi yer yer iyi tespitleri olan ama genel olarak zayıf bir metin maalesef.
Lajos karakterinin, pek çok insanın düştüğü büyük bir yanılgıyı nefis ifade ettiği sözlerini içeren şu alıntıyla bitireyim: "Bende bulunmayan ve karakter denen şey sendin, sen olmalıydın. Karakteri olmayan veya mükemmel bir karaktere sahip olmayan bir insan ahlak bakımından az buçuk sakat demektir. Tıpkı her bakımdan sağlıklı olup da yalnızca elinin veya bacağının teki olmayan bir insan gibi. Bu tür insanlara yapay bir uzuv takıldığında yeniden iş görür, çevrelerine hizmet verebilir duruma geliverirler. Benzetme için özür diliyorum ama işte sen de benim için böylesi bir yapay organ olabilirdin... Ahlaki bir protez."
İşin Aslı, Judit ve Sonrası ile tanıyıp çok sevdiğim Macar yazar Sandor Marai'den okuduğum ikinci kitap oldu "Eszter'in Mirası". Yer yer parlak kısımları ve akılda kalıcı tespitleri olmakla beraber, Judit'e kıyasla epeyce zayıf bir roman olduğunu söylemem lazım.
Kendisini aldatıp dolandırarak yıllar önce kız kardeşiyle evlenen Lajos'un geri dönüşüyle beraber Eszter'in yaşadıkları anlatılıyor bu küçük romanda. Arka kapakta "Eszter’in neredeyse bir trans halindeymişçesine felakete doğru koşan halkları, karizmatik liderlerce boş vaatlerle kandırılan kitleleri, zayıf iradelilerin daha güçlü görünenlere teslimiyetini simgelediği" gibi bir iddia var ama açıkçası bana biraz fazlaca bir mânâ atfetme gibi geldi bu. Eszter'in bunu simgelediğine dair pek bir şey anlamıyoruz zira kitaptan, bence epeyce kişisel bir hikaye bu.
Müthiş asap bozucu biri olan Lajos karakteri, Dostoyevski romanlarındaki bazı tipleri andırıyor, kendisi neredeyse Stepançikovo Köyü ve Sakinleri'ndeki Foma Fomiç kadar sinir bozucu. (Neredeyse, tabii, zira onun kadar tahammül edilemez olmak zor şüphesiz.) Kitaptaki insanların, özellikle Eszter'in motivasyonunu anlamak zor, karakterlerin pek çok davranışı ikna edici olmaktan uzak. Dolayısıyla insan içine giremiyor pek metnin. Sürükleyici, hızlı okunan, dediğim gibi yer yer iyi tespitleri olan ama genel olarak zayıf bir metin maalesef.
Lajos karakterinin, pek çok insanın düştüğü büyük bir yanılgıyı nefis ifade ettiği sözlerini içeren şu alıntıyla bitireyim: "Bende bulunmayan ve karakter denen şey sendin, sen olmalıydın. Karakteri olmayan veya mükemmel bir karaktere sahip olmayan bir insan ahlak bakımından az buçuk sakat demektir. Tıpkı her bakımdan sağlıklı olup da yalnızca elinin veya bacağının teki olmayan bir insan gibi. Bu tür insanlara yapay bir uzuv takıldığında yeniden iş görür, çevrelerine hizmet verebilir duruma geliverirler. Benzetme için özür diliyorum ama işte sen de benim için böylesi bir yapay organ olabilirdin... Ahlaki bir protez."
July 26, 2017
Um livro rápido, instrospectivo e repleto de sentimentos e emoções. Do mesmo autor, já havia lido "As Velas Ardem até ao Fim", que adorei e ao qual dei 5 estrelas e, neste sentido, este livro como que me desiludiu.
Não me disse muito, apesar de toda a carga dramática ao redor da nossa protagonista, Ezster, uma mulher que recebe uma (ansiada) visita, que a faz desenrolar o fio das memórias, perder-se nas recordações e desistir de pensar, após meter o dedo na ferida.
A melhor parte deste livro é, sem dúvida, o final. Valem-lhe, para as três estrelas, os pensamentos algo filosóficos (se bem que nada desenvolvidos) de que a obra é, aqui e ali, pontilhada.
Quero, sem dúvida, ler mais do autor para decidir se gosto, de facto, da narrativa de Márai ou não.
Não me disse muito, apesar de toda a carga dramática ao redor da nossa protagonista, Ezster, uma mulher que recebe uma (ansiada) visita, que a faz desenrolar o fio das memórias, perder-se nas recordações e desistir de pensar, após meter o dedo na ferida.
A melhor parte deste livro é, sem dúvida, o final. Valem-lhe, para as três estrelas, os pensamentos algo filosóficos (se bem que nada desenvolvidos) de que a obra é, aqui e ali, pontilhada.
Quero, sem dúvida, ler mais do autor para decidir se gosto, de facto, da narrativa de Márai ou não.
December 7, 2025
Esztera, protagonista și naratoarea cărții, pare să sufere de sindromul Stockholm. Când dragostea ei din tinerețe revine în actualitate după 20 de ani și după o căsătorie cu sora ei mai mare care a murit, Esztera se simte ca o adolescentă. Nimic nu îi poate șterge încântarea, nici măcar rememorarea unor fapte reprobabile ale lui Lajos (mincinos, oportunist și chiar hoț). Gestul la care va recurge Esztera în final adâncește ideea că unele femei nu se maturizează nici măcar la 40+. Nu am empatizat nicio secundă cu ea.
July 8, 2014
This is the first Marai novel I've read, and it was a bit underwhelming. Very well-written (and well-translated), the story itself could have been more interesting than it was. I could never understand why everyone thought Lajos was so enchanting, despite the fact that he's a pathological liar who cheats everyone. The ending of this novella was extremely disappointing, and I could not understand the protagonist's self-destructive final decision.
The philosophical adventures of sociopaths and masochists holds little interest for me.
The philosophical adventures of sociopaths and masochists holds little interest for me.
February 7, 2026
Carte minunată! După dezamăgirea cu Deborah Levy (Lapte fierbinte), aveam nevoie de o lucrătură impecabilă ca asta.
Țesută fără greș, de un om care - nici un dubiu - s-a apucat de scris mânat de un impuls natural și nu, ca ăștia de azi, din snobism sau din dorința irepresibilă de a aplica o rețetă învățată la cursurile de “creative writing”.
Țesută fără greș, de un om care - nici un dubiu - s-a apucat de scris mânat de un impuls natural și nu, ca ăștia de azi, din snobism sau din dorința irepresibilă de a aplica o rețetă învățată la cursurile de “creative writing”.
November 19, 2011
I am developing a minor obsession with Sandor Marai novels. This one is on par with the brilliance of Embers, which delighted me since I was a bit disappointed with The Rebels. There is such a gorgeous compressed emotional language in his writing that gives it an air of poetry rather than prose. Properly speaking, I would class this as a novella ; it’s short in length and time frame and deals with a single main theme - the lies others tell us and the lies we tell ourselves. But from that one theme, Marai spins a complex and compelling story of a woman who set her whole heart on a man who is charming, utterly amoral and a willfully compulsive liar and thief. It is absolutely fascinating to watch her fatalism and repressed anger battle against each other as he returns after decades away; she, her family, and the liar all know that he has come to finish the job he started years before of taking everything there was to take from them. They know what is happening but can neither admit it openly or bring themselves to prevent it. The liar, who to the audience is transparently disgusting, has each of the characters under a inexplicable spell of old friendship and love so that they are incapable of acting reasonably and chucking him to the curb. It’s perfectly Marai and beautifully done. I just spotted a newly released translation of another of his novels, Portraits of a Marriageat the library and I can’t wait to dive into it soon.
June 30, 2021
Ovo je druga knjiga od Maraija koju sam pročitala i slobodno mogu reći da mi se stvarno sviđa kako piše i kako osmišlja svoje priče. Oduševljena sam kako se odlično Marai uneo u glavni ženski lik i ispričao priču iz ženske perspektive. Ester je već u petoj deceniji svog života i jednog dana dobija telegram da se vraća Lajos, čovek koga je volela celog života, ali se on oženio njenom sestrom, čovek koji je opisan kao lažov, ali toliko šarmantan da mu svi to praštaju i svejedno mu daju sve što poželi.
“Ne znam kakve još namjere ima Bog sa mnom. No prije nego što umrem, želim zapisati događaje koji su se zbili onoga dana kada je Lajos posljednji put bio kod mene i opljačkao me do kraja. Pa ipak odgađam to već tri godine. Sada mi se čini kao da me neki glas, protiv kojega se ne mogu braniti, požuruje da, napokon, zabilježim sve što se dogodilo toga dana, kao i sve što znam o Lajosu jer mi je to obveza, a nije mi preostalo ni mnogo vremena. Takvi su glasovi uvijek surovi i jasni. Zato ću ih, u ime Boga, i poslušati.”
“...više se uopće nisam bojala Lajosa. Možemo se bojati nekoga koga volimo ili preziremo, nekoga tko je jako dobar, jako okrutan ili istinski podao prema nama. Međutim Lajos prema meni nikada nije bio zao; istina, nije bio ni dobar u smislu kako se riječ dobrota tumači u udžbenicima. A je li bio podao? Nikada ga nisam doživljavala takvim. Istina, lagao je, no lagao je vedro i prirodno kao kad vjetar puše. Znao je lagati nevjerojatno spremno i radosno. Meni je, primjerice, lagao da me voli, da voli samo mene
I počinje ispovest, uz sećanja na mladost i sve što se desilo pre dvadeset godina... Divna proza, priča o izdaji, sećanje na teška vremena i preokrete sudbine.
“Čovjek živi i dograđuje, popravlja, podiže, katkada i pokvari svoj život, no s vremenom će uočiti da je cjelina, koja se naposljetku posložila upravo od tih grešaka i slučajnosti, zapravo neponovljiva. Lajos tu više ništa ne može. Kada netko izroni iz prošlosti i sentimentalnim glasom najavi da želi »sve« srediti, možemo ga samo žaliti i nasmijati se njegovoj namjeri, jer je vrijeme ionako sve »sredilo« i to na onaj čudnovati način na koji se ta stvar jedino može provesti. “
“Ne znam kakve još namjere ima Bog sa mnom. No prije nego što umrem, želim zapisati događaje koji su se zbili onoga dana kada je Lajos posljednji put bio kod mene i opljačkao me do kraja. Pa ipak odgađam to već tri godine. Sada mi se čini kao da me neki glas, protiv kojega se ne mogu braniti, požuruje da, napokon, zabilježim sve što se dogodilo toga dana, kao i sve što znam o Lajosu jer mi je to obveza, a nije mi preostalo ni mnogo vremena. Takvi su glasovi uvijek surovi i jasni. Zato ću ih, u ime Boga, i poslušati.”
“...više se uopće nisam bojala Lajosa. Možemo se bojati nekoga koga volimo ili preziremo, nekoga tko je jako dobar, jako okrutan ili istinski podao prema nama. Međutim Lajos prema meni nikada nije bio zao; istina, nije bio ni dobar u smislu kako se riječ dobrota tumači u udžbenicima. A je li bio podao? Nikada ga nisam doživljavala takvim. Istina, lagao je, no lagao je vedro i prirodno kao kad vjetar puše. Znao je lagati nevjerojatno spremno i radosno. Meni je, primjerice, lagao da me voli, da voli samo mene
I počinje ispovest, uz sećanja na mladost i sve što se desilo pre dvadeset godina... Divna proza, priča o izdaji, sećanje na teška vremena i preokrete sudbine.
“Čovjek živi i dograđuje, popravlja, podiže, katkada i pokvari svoj život, no s vremenom će uočiti da je cjelina, koja se naposljetku posložila upravo od tih grešaka i slučajnosti, zapravo neponovljiva. Lajos tu više ništa ne može. Kada netko izroni iz prošlosti i sentimentalnim glasom najavi da želi »sve« srediti, možemo ga samo žaliti i nasmijati se njegovoj namjeri, jer je vrijeme ionako sve »sredilo« i to na onaj čudnovati način na koji se ta stvar jedino može provesti. “
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