By Deszö Kosztolányi, Bernard Adams
A nice masterpiece by no means earlier than to be had in English, Kornél Esti is the wild ultimate booklet via a Hungarian genius.
loopy, humorous and gorgeously darkish, Kornél Esti units into rollicking motion a chain of adventures a few guy and his depraved dopplegänger, who breathes each forbidden thought of his formative years into his ear, after which reappears a long time later.
half Gogol, half Chekhov, and all brilliance, Kosztolányi in his ultimate ebook serves up his so much magical, radical, and intoxicating paintings. here's a novel which inquires: What in case your identification (loyally maintaining your identify) makes a decision to strike out by itself, cuts a disreputable swath during the international, after which sends domestic to you all its unpaid accounts and ruined maidens? after which: What should you and your modify ego choose to write a e-book jointly?
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Extra resources for Kornel Esti
She opened her beak clownishly for every morsel. In so doing she exposed her anemic gums and her few rotten little teeth, which shone black inside her mouth. ” her mother asked from time to time. The girl nodded. In this way she ate almost the entire apple. Only the last segment remained. Suddenly she leapt to her feet and rushed into the corridor. Her mother tore after her in alarm. Now what was happening? What was wrong with the apple and the mother? What was the matter with this girl? Esti too jumped up.
He too may well have felt the same about me. In the depths of his heart he probably looked down on me for not according his ideas the respect that they deserved—perhaps he even despised me. He took me for a philistine because I used to buy an engagement diary, wrote in it every day, and did all the right things. On one occasion he accused me of forgetting what it was like to be young. And there may have been some truth in that. But that’s the way life goes. Everyone forgets. Slowly, imperceptibly, we drifted apart, but despite all that I understood him and he understood me.
Kornél looked at me and took pity on the little thing. He began to tremble. I pouted scornfully. While we were thus at odds the sparrow chick slipped out into the garden and disappeared. So he didn’t dare do everything. He liked to talk big and make things up. I remember how one autumn evening, about six o’clock, he called me out to the gate and there informed me, mysteriously and importantly, that he could actually work magic. He showed me a shiny metal object in his hand. He said that it was a magic whistle, and he only had to blow it for any house to rise up into the air, all the way to the moon.