Imre Kertész and Holocaust Literature

Imre Kert

148 Imre Kertész and Hungary Today Magdalena Marsovszky Translated from the German by Eszter Pásztor On the day when news agencies announced that the 2002 Nobel Prize in Literature is awarded this year to a Hungarian writer called Imre Kertész, joy and pride were virtually palpable in Budapest. Yet, the first moments of euphoria were followed by the sobering question: Who is Imre Kertész? The critic and scholar Mária Vásárhelyi points to the fact not a single monograph has ever been published about the work of the Laureate until the Nobel Prize and that the future Nobel Prize winner is not even mentioned in the first history of Hungarian literature published after the fall of the communist regime in 1989, by Ernő Kulcsár Szabó in 1995. Kertész’s novel, Sorstalanság—first published, in a censored version, in 1975; translated into English as Fateless 1992 and, correctly, in 2004 as Fatelessness— was known to few readers and during communism scholars and intellectuals would not refer to the work even if it were known to them. Although this silence was broken by the writer and critic György Spiró in 1983, there was little further reaction, and it was only in the early 1990s that discussions of Kertész’s work began. By this period, however, signs of a certain “Kertész-cult” became noticeable in a small circle of critics (see Spiró, “Interview”). Surely, by the end of 2002, the time has come for a more general appreciation and a few monographs have already been in the pipeline when the news of the decision by the Swedish Academy was announced . Yet, the real breakthrough took place only after and due to the Nobel Prize (see Heller; Kőbányai; Scheibner and Szücs; Szirák; Vári). In the meantime, Kertész commanded much greater attention in many other countries, first and foremost in Germany, where his works were published. Dávid Kaposi traces the fact that the world of literature in Hungary had little interest in an intensive confrontation with Kertész’s works owing to the fact that both during the communist era and after the Holocaust little to no attention. Following Lawrence L. Langer and Craig R. Barclay, Kaposi argues that owing to the social environment, conditions of communication were inadequate and, in contrast, for instance, to Germany, this led to a “conspiracy of silence” about the Holocaust (see in Erős 116–20). The reception of Kertész’s Nobel Prize and the strong reactions to it suggest that these Imre Kertész and Hungary Today 149 conditions still apply in many ways to contemporary Hungary (on this, see also Tötösy de Zepetnek; Young). Shortly after the announcement of Nobel Prize, a significant number of articles appeared in the liberal press of the country, with headings such as “A Hungarian Nobel Prize Winner” (Sándor 5; translations from the German to English are by Eszter Pásztor and translation from the Hungarian to German are mine, unless noted otherwise), “Great Day of Hungarian Literature” (“A magyar irodalom ünnepe ” in Magyar Hírlap), “Let Us Rejoice!” (Spiró 26). Yet, an analysis of the right-wing and the national conservative reactions to the news reveals the belief that the Nobel Prize for a Hungarian Jew is assumed to represent an aspect of the “syndrome” (Sándor 5) of the oppression of Hungarian society. The national/conservative media were rather restrained in their statements commenting only on the fact that the Nobel Prize was awarded to Kertész (see, e.g., Haklik “Kertész Imre”). At first, leading politicians of the right-wing and national conservative opposition did welcome the news, but did not congratulate Kertész. Later, this criticism took shape with quotations often taken out of context (see, in particular, Lovas) and with increasingly direct complaints that Kertész was ungrateful to his motherland (see Haklik “Doronggá alázott”; Solymosi). A further example is this: “These days the constellation and the light in which we [Hungarians] appear are favorable and that is why this gesture was made to us” (qtd. by Borcza 6). This extremely guarded statement—made by the president of the Hungarian Writers’ Association, Márton Kalász—became provocative when it was repeated in the daily Magyar Nemzet, known for its regular right-of-center and right-wing radical publications. One did not have to wait long for a clear-cut formulation. A...