четверг, 25 октября 2007 г.
A hero of his time
In the midst of life met him Kornél Esti suddenly. Previously, they were like twins unequal. Then, the schurkige Schlingel Kornél just kicked. How unequal they were equal. For years now heard nothing more from each other, then suddenly. The memory makes confusing phrases and suddenly, it is as if he's never been away.
Here is the gesittete, hardworking and hochanständige writer whose repertoire idea for some time but it is barren and abandoned as weathered mining ghost towns in nordrussischen Arctic Circle areas. There, the mischievous Rumtreiberling, lively source of adventure crazier ideas, a verschmitzter Bohčme, full-genussfreudig obscure projects, and arbeitsfeindlich crazy.
Both complement each other like Ying and Yang. The first is the fist, the other the eye. Fits perfectly. Age and ego, as a couple and yet one. And so rotten it is. One tells erflunkert sparkling and experience reports, the other writes zealously. And so durchtanzen it in the memory almost one dozen amazing stories. Abstruse incidents in train abroad, trips in the city where the truth is told, they roam the goings nichttsnutzige bohčmer Schlauschwätzer in cozy coffee houses, dive into the iridescent charm of Budapest, guzzle insane Erbsummen meet university presidents, nothing can be better than that of public events through seliges Slumbering to shine.
Still, there is a lot more to discover, beschmunzeln and fun to browse in this equally exciting as enjoyable novel full of life, whose witty and eye sharpness today emit less; In Dezső Kosztolányis great work, "A hero of his time. The confessions of Kornél Esti. ", which in the late twenties was, but only in just two years, also appeared on German. Nachwievor Kosztolányi is hardly known nurmehr seething secret here. "A hero ..." One is less stringent than a novel augenzwinkerndes collection of stories, it is, but every single one of them wrapped his own magic, a stunning Cloutier, captivating atmosphere, sensuality without mawkishness, Esprit and wit without platitudes, feinstrichige sketches in detail without losing Intelligence without Besserwisserei.
Thomas Mann was a great admirer of Kosztolányi, Peter Eszterhazy he is "the greatest Hungarian writer," Sándor Márai saw in him his idol. Strangely, he is still barely a concept to someone. But those who know him, and remain mostly rave. During his re-discovery a few years ago, the reviewer wrote the Süddeutsche Zeitung even: "Desző Kosztolányi was a genius, maybe even a god." I will not here cheering Babel Tower building, but everyone here this novel highly try.
Before joy, I almost burst yesterday when I discovered by chance that there are other, previously lost novels around Kornél Esti, who recently appeared. I have no hesitation added. The reading lamp next to my pillow in the next few days longer burn, I durchstreife new Eugenspiegeleien, let me push back on the glittering flow of a language of my favorite authors. For me the discovery in recent years.
Also, losrennen and arrange! Verschlingt him. Laughs that beams bend and break. Badet in almost amazing voice elegance! The süffisante Hintersinnigkeit admired. Maybe it's also for you, perhaps even a hot discovery? Who's interested, you can find more votes.