The Smell of Humans: A Memoir of the Holocaust in Hungary
Central European University Press, 1994. jan. 1. - 173 oldal
Primarily a piece of creative writing and autobiographical literature of a very distinctive Central European kind, this detailed and imaginative short memoir is also an important document of the Holocaust in Hungary in 1944. Written by a master of twentieth-century Hungarian literature, it describes life for the Jewish population of German-occupied Budapest--the constant fear of deportation overshadowing the daily trials of living in the ghetto--before concentrating on the writer's own internment in a labor camp during the first weeks of rule by the extremist Arrow Cross regime. The experiences of those nineteen days spent in the camp are both harsh and disturbing, yet throughout his memoir Sz‚p manages to maintain an extraordinary degree of compassion and detachment, even humor. Published to coincide with the fiftieth anniversary of the events described, this is the last of Sz‚p's many literary works to appear in English.
Mit mondanak mások - Írjon ismertetőt
Nem találtunk ismertetőket a szokott helyeken.
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
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xvii. oldal - This is the patent age of new inventions For killing bodies, and for saving souls, All propagated with the best intentions...
13. oldal - Bakonyi, a most pleasant and cultured man, retired court clerk and son of Samu Bakonyi, secretary-general of the religious community and well-known opposition party deputy from Debrecen. The large apartment also sheltered a third party, a small family of a humbler sort; their part also had a balcony, as well as the bathroom, which of course was shared by all. Dr Bakonyi lived there with his wife, little daughter and 80-year-old mother; she was at the age when some women turn into charming little...
8. oldal - That boy was quite handsome: he wore his long hair slickly plastered down. In civilian life he could have passed for an art student. I think he must have worked in a factory; he was probably someone who yelled himself hoarse at a soccer game. Perhaps he was not a bad fellow, and it was only the revolver, the bayonet, and the ideology, of course, that had turned him into a wild beast. He cocked his head high, and roared at us: 'Fall in by fours, at the double!
19. oldal - T. was a highly educated, much-travelled gentleman with a distinguished bearing, whose rich library furnished me with abundant reading matter as long as we were left in peace. I had another source of books on our floor in the person of Mr V, another company director and long-time tenant, who provided many an English and French volume, classics that I had been meaning to read for some time. As for my own...
15. oldal - One bomb landed right in front of the entrance; we couldn't go in or out until ali the broken glass and rubble was cleared away. Fortunately this was in the summer, so that the absence of window-panes was bearable. But the lights could not be turned on at night, because we were unable to black out our windows. And so I was not allowed to read at night all summer long, which for me was the worst kind of hardship.
12. oldal - The Apartment House on Pozsonyi Road The door through which we marched out was the front entrance of an apartment house on Pozsonyi Road. My brother, sisters and I had been living there since the end of June, when Jews were ordered by law to move into designated buildings (no doubt to encourage their notorious solidarity).
16. oldal - II, who hailed from Austria and hated the Reich with a passion. And since people of Jewish descent were prohibited by law to own radios, Herr Direktor V. listened to the broadcast at Baron D.'s with paper and pencil in hand to take down the nightly broadcast in shorthand. The Baron could not invite...