Walking the Woods and the Water (Nick Hunt, 2014)

(329 pages)

Author got the idea to replicate Patrick Leigh Fermor's 1930s walk as a young man "from the Hook of Holland to the Golden Horn".  I much enjoyed Fermor's books (discussions are here) and was quite curious to see how the author would handle things.  I think it worked!

good travel books - and this is one - are a really useful tool in reading about geography and history and culture.  both large-scale and (particularly!) micro-scale.  scenes throughout but especially compelling as he works his way east.  

Picking up the concerns of locals in relation to their neighbors - something that is thought about pretty much everywhere.  Unusual examples such as the concerns of Romanians v. Hungarians v. Bulgarians; and then onto Turkey.  Walkers can pick up lots of details. 

[something interesting - author is into Hungary (and out of what I'd call western Europe) by page 119 - the rest of the book is him working east.  Interesting perspective in that alone.  Hugeness of east.  other routes could have devoted a higher % to west but still.  Fermor's books like this as well - I appreciate opportunities to learn more about eastern Europe.]

Varying modes of hospitality encountered in so many local settings - this is super-interesting - in author's experience, the people got more hospitable as he moved east, while the dogs grew more unwelcoming.

Delightful, serendipitous encounters when in challenging circumstances.  

reflections on the act of walking.  how he felt like he had missed something whenever traveling in some other way.  in our small way in cities we visit - it feels the same

winter walk in Germany - so reminiscent of the Schubert song cycle

doesn't necessarily make it a better book than Fermor's - but it was written promptly after completion of the walk, so to that extent it's a more faithful portrayal of what was experienced.

the walk took place shortly after the financial crisis of 2008 so repercussions affected locations visited.  EU expansion into eastern countries especially tenuous at this stage; thugocracies in former Soviet satellites are troublesome.  But it's not a book about politics.

Relatable in that many of us can imagine extended walking tours.  But no way to do anything close to this - author was adept at sleeping out in a tent whenever needed, dealing with elements, relating to all sorts of hosts.  Seemed able to survive whatever local alcohol was featured for toasts (sometimes weed-accompanied).

Abigail (Magda Szabo, 1970)

(333 pages)

I picked this book because Hungary's positioning between the two world wars always seems like an interesting setting, and the review was favorable.

Then I became a little nervous that the plot might be too focused on life in a girls boarding school.  And there was quite a bit of that, but it fit into the story line quite nicely and I ended up enjoying the book quite a bit.

Protagonist is the 14 year old daughter of a Hungarian army general; spoiled, willful, enjoying life in Budapest; sent off to a provincial boarding school without much explanation and has a hard time fitting in.  Abigail is a statue that somehow seems to intervene when the girls have severe troubles.

Meanwhile the alliance with Hitler is going poorly, the Hungarian army is getting pummeled in the Stalingrad fighting, Germany is taking over in Hungary, tension and difficult decisions.

Author does a good job developing characters among the school girls, the faculty, etc.

Recommended.

The Transylvanian Trilogy - Vol. II - They Were Found Wanting; Vol. III - They Were Divided (Miklos Banffy, 1934)

(830 pages)

I had read Volume I of this trilogy back in 2016; liked the final two volumes even a bit better.  My summary for Volume I actually work quite well for purposes of Volumes II and III; however, the action (certainly the political stakes) pick up as World War I nears.  

The story lines of course take place in the geographies where the incidents that kicked off the war occurred, so there's the run-up for that.  More discussion of Franz Ferdinand as heir apparent; he is presented as a conniver, quite unflattering.

The scenes taking place in Transylvania and Hungary are consistently interesting; the author also certainly must had a great feel for the era's politics.

The book is a great companion to the second of Patrick Leigh Fermor's books - he was visiting much the same geography, only in the 1930s.

Balint; his mother Roza; Adrienne; Pal Uzdy; Laszlo; many more.

Recommended

The Transylvanian Trilogy - Volume I - They Were Counted (Miklos Banffy, 1934)

This sounded interesting, and I was willing to give it a try as part of an ongoing effort to get a better picture of eastern Europe, Balkans, etc. (for example, this, this and this within the last few months).

Quick read; debatable whether I'll go on and read the last two parts of the trilogy.

Author is telling a story of Hungarian aristocracy in the years just before World War I (as a result of which their world broke, irretrievably).  Two cousins are the main characters:  Balint Abady and Laszlo Gyeroffy.  They are headed down different paths.

Sometimes draggy but generally interesting discussion of early 20th century politics in this corner of the world - feeling pushed around by the emperor in Austria; the "Dual Monarchy" not seeming very well balanced.  Some are dreaming of incorporating Balkan states into the empire.  References to 1848 and 1867 episodes and influence on Hungary, Transylvania; Kossuth; but no references reaching back to Turkish occupation etc.

A reminder of how closely integrated this world was with all of western Europe; perhaps now the effect of the Iron Curtain is fading a bit and that integration is somewhat restored?  Romanian minorities (including folks on Balint's estates).  A sense of the geography of Transylvania - hinterlands even by the standards of these countries.

So much of the talk by the politicians would sound right at home in 2016 presidential campaign - phony patriotic appeals, identity politics, payoffs, etc.

Descriptions of of old houses - originally built with fortifications.

Balint interested in Adrienne and Laszlo interested in Klara.  Author burns a lot of time on this and it's the weakest part of the book - these portions are how I imagine a Harlequin romance would read.

Danube - A Journey Through the Landscape, History, and Culture of Central Europe (Claudio Magris, 1986)

Continuing to try to get a better feel for MittelEuropa.  Much more obscure to me than Western Europe.  Some of my interest was prompted by this so-interesting travelogue.

But what was the author up to here?  This is a travelogue that is nothing like a travelogue, at least as I conceive the genre.  The author - an Italian professor - has all sorts of consistently interesting things on his mind - but they don't always connect well with the Danube theme.

And the Danube is a very long river - as he proceeds east - away from Germany and his areas of familiarity - Austria, Hungary, Bulgaria, Romania - he seems progressively less knowledgeable, and relies more and more on narratives about selected writers.

Endless literary and historical references.  I read enough to make sense of some, which is pleasing.  But . . . so many . . . must leave readers with questions, at least it did for me.

But I like the book, an awful lot.  Would have preferred more straight historical-narrative style information, but once I gave up on that, I just enjoyed the ride.

Some ideas:

1.  The Danube as an east-flowing, Asiatic, river.  Compare the Rhine (Germanic purity).  At the end of the Danube line:  Attila and his ilk.  This notion reinforced by the Roman experience - barbarians across the Limes.

2.  Large zones where armies from major powers constantly traverse - with endless consequences for the affected populations.  The Turk.  Magyars getting hit from every direction.

3.  German settlers and influence.  German colonists in the Banat.  Bringing some order into places that lacked it.  Interesting.

4.  Lots of discussion on Regensburg.  I still want to see this.  Passau, maybe?

5.  Hungarians compromising with Austria in 1862 (Dual Monarchy).  Obliterated by Turks in 1526 (Mohacs).

6.  The "Military Frontier" - described as a thousand kilometers - borderlands, somewhat lawless, first line of defense against the Turk.

7.  1986 Bulgaria - "Oppression, he writes in his novel-epic of Bulgaria, has the privilege of making peoples happy; for when the political arena is closed, society seeks consolation in the immediate good things of life, in wine drunk under the trees, in love, in generation.  'Enslaved peoples have their philosophy which reconciles them to life.'"

8.  He has an idea that folks living in landlocked areas are more conservative, less adventuresome, less liberal and adaptable in comparison to folks living nearer the sea.

Author is a colleague of Umberto Eco!

There's just a lot here, and I need to spend more time with it.  Many glorious passages.  Dense.  Requires slow reading.  Worthwhile.

I Kiss Your Hands Many Times - Hearts, Souls and Wars in Hungary (Marianne Szegedy-Maszak, 2013)

Author's parents and grandparents came through difficult times in WWII Hungary.  Author, growing up with extended family in NY, had limited understanding of family background until she arranges translation of stacks of letters after her parents died.

I've read lots of WWII stuff - but the story that she frames is one of the most interesting and unique of all.  Partly because it is centered in Hungary - relatively safely away from the fighting until the last year of the war (which I had never thought about).  And Hitler had enough other things keeping him busy such that he didn't put the hammer down on this semi-reliable ally until late in the game.

"I kiss your hands" - a traditional Hungarian departure gesture, also used in the closing of letters.  Aladar - typically guarded in his communications - expressed a bit stronger feelings toward Hanna by adding "many times" in closing letters to her.  Nice.

A few of the threads running through this:

1.  Author's father - Aladar - rising political star in Hungary, from a Christian family.  Encounters Hitler in a couple settings while on government business.  Pretty outspoken against Nazis - which naturally enough didn't help him at certain points in the story.

2.  Author's mother - Hanna - belongs to a Jewish family - incredibly successful business operators, supposedly their operations constituted about 10% of Hungary's GDP (hard to believe).  Wealthy, aristocratic, assimilated, some converted to Christianity - but still, Jews.

3.  As Aladar and Hanna fall in love, anti-Semitic legislation makes the match nigh-impossible.  Hungarian government goes slow on attacking Jews; Nazis finally force the process in 1943 or 1944; too many Hungarians were way too glad to assist.  The Nazi Jew-killing machine was in top condition at this point, and - with plenty of local assistance - murders of Jews in Hungary were accomplished with incredible efficiency.

4.  As the Nazis advance and then, in short order, the Russians start to attack - Aladar ends up in Dachau.  A political prisoner of the Nazis.  Awful experience; he's there when the U.S. army arrives.  Budapest itself badly wrecked, including blowing up beautiful-historic Danube bridges.  The war finally hit home in Hungary with full force.

5.  Prior to Aladar being taken away:  Hanna's family is bargaining with a Nazi - in a deal that was approved by Himmler himself - family members already in camps are released and with most of the rest are allowed to emigrate to Portugal.  In exchange for most of their assets.  Though with a few hostages left behind to make sure the rest behave once outside Hungary.  Aladar not aware of how this is turning out.  (Author explains why Nazis didn't just steal the assets, something to the effect that they were still putting up a show of limited interference with their allies.)

6.  Very touching story in the immediate postwar era - Aladar and Hanna reconnect.  Married in the wreckage of Budapest.

7.  Pretty much immediately after the war, Aladar (still highly thought of) is appointed by the new government to be ambassador to the U.S. - so he and Hanna move to DC.  Hopes for democracy.  Hopes for U.S. intervention.  But the Communists take over Hungarian government in their typical 1940s-thug-style as applied throughout Eastern Europe.  And the U.S. had other priorities - Hungary pretty clearly a lost cause in terms of Soviet domination.  So Aladar is out of a job.  And returning to Hungary is not possible.  But his in-laws start showing up, and they still had both money, and business smarts.  So no danger of missing meals.

8.  Aladar - something of a nervous personality - didn't thrive in the wake of all this.  Not surprisingly.  Did work for Radio Free Europe and Voice of America in relation to Hungary.  It was effective that the author didn't sugarcoat his problems.

9.  The quoted correspondence is pretty amazing throughout.  Hard to imagine educated, articulate folks writing to each other in these circumstances.  Quite wonderful to read.

Author didn't realize until it was too late:  but her parents had quite a love story under truly extraordinary circumstances.

The above doesn't do justice to the book.  I dog-eared dozens and dozens of pages - lots of ideas about history, and just plain nice moments, that I want to keep track of.

Between the Woods and the Water (Patrick Leigh Fermor, 1986)

I became aware of this book in a discussion of "travel" books.  It's that - and much more.  Relatively short.  Delightful.  (It's also a wonderful companion to this book about pre-WWI Austria - pure coincidence I read them so closely in time.)  

In the 1930s, the author (Fermor) - then youthful - set off on foot from Holland to Constantinople (as it was then known) after not thriving at school in England.  He took notes along the way, in varying degrees of detail depending on circumstances.  (Yes, it's quite a journey.)

In the 1940s, Fermor was in the British army - interestingly, using his knowledge of the area that included Greece and Crete (in part learned on the 1930s stroll-about) - and became a well-known war hero.  He parachuted into Crete, kidnapped a German general, smuggled him into Egypt.  Among other things.

In his 60s, Fermor started turning his 1930s adventures into book form.  So he was a very different Fermor than the wandering youth.  I'm guessing this is one of the two biggest reasons why the book works so well.  The book was intended to be released in three parts (though the third part didn't happen).  This book is number two in the sequence - when Fermor, 19 years old, travels from the Danube on the border between Hungary and Slovakia, to the "Iron Gates" at the border of Romania and (what was then called) Yugoslavia.  This book was written in the 1980s.

The other big reason the book is so wonderful - the timing of his walk - 1930s - much had already changed as a result of World War I, but Fermor saw, up-close, a world that was shattered in the 1940s and isolated behind the Iron Curtain for 40+ years thereafter.  The stories of his encounters seem scarcely possible in the 20th century.  Yet it was written less than 30 years ago - amazing.

Some things I liked:

1.  His use of the English language is delightful.

2.  As this book so interestingly explained - this part of the world was actually heavily integrated into Europe for centuries - after decades behind the Iron Curtain, we tend to think of its separate-ness, or other-ness.  This biography of Lizst made the same point in a different way.  Educated folks in this part of the world looked to the West prior to WWII, and were part of "Europe."

3.  As this book so interestingly explained - this part of the world also was heavily involved with the East - primarily the Ottoman Turks.  Extensive Muslim influence going back centuries.  Fermor wandered near many famous battlegrounds.  Hungary was dominated by Constantinople for many years.

4.  Fermor intended to live among the commoners while traveling on foot.  But he had introductions to nobility in Hungary, and was rather passed along from welcoming house to welcoming house (all the way into Romania).  He expressed some guilt about straying from plan, but clearly was massively enjoying these encounters.  Hungarian nobility wasn't necessarily all that wealthy, at least in a cash sense, in those days.  And there were lots of Hungarian counts floating around.  But they certainly retained the old traditions of hospitality.

5.  Interesting background on the Magyars, Habsburgs, etc.  And about rivalries with Romania, Serbia, etc.  He covers the Louis Kossuth events, which were interestingly explained in this book. 

6.  He wanders through Romania - which included areas of Hungarian population - explains Vlad the Impaler plus the Dracula origins (derived from dragon).  Explains the wandering tribes that, over the centuries, populated these areas.

7.  Carpathians, Wallachia, Moldova.  Now I have a better feel for this geography.  (Which is helping as I finish a book about the Red Army heading toward Berlin in 1944.)

8.  Fermor encounters numerous gypsy settlements.  And old-style shepherds.  In the 20th century!

9.  He runs into odd Christian and Jewish sects - fascinating histories - thoroughly isolated - reformation and counter-reformation reached here, but only about so much.

10.  Old-style forests - beautiful descriptions of nature - where wolves and bears still lived.

11.  Certainly didn't know or recall that the Romans were very active in campaigns against the Dacians.  Which does bring to mind "Romania" as a place-name.  High level of activity right near the "Iron Gates." 

This book was fascinating in its own right, but fit in so well with other things I find interesting.

Franz Liszt - Vol. 1 - The Virtuoso Years, 1811-1847 (Alan Walker, 1983)

For as much as I've been exposed to classical music, I just have never studied it or even read much about the leading composers, etc. So I'm trying to correct this situation. This author has done a three-part biography of Franz Liszt - who I certainly knew by name, and possibly would have associated with Hungary. But no more than that.

Anyway, the first volume of this biography was thoroughly interesting. At the beginning I was concerned that this was the kind of biography where the author is mostly interested in showing off how much research was done and why his work exceeds the efforts of previous biographers. There was some of that, but it ended up not being a problem.

Some things I took away:

1. Persons like Liszt leave no room for doubt that something like "genius," for want of a different term, absolutely exists in a small number of people. These folks simply have something the rest of us can never have. Liszt was able to learn music, perform in concerts at a ridiculously young age (~11), memorize, sight read, etc., in a way that simply was not normal. It's fascinating to think about.

2. Sort of like in the Goethe biography, Liszt came to the fore as a celebrity - there was a sufficient media machine to make him famous. Supposedly there was genuine Liszt-mania in many places he appeared during this period.

3. Carl Czerny was one of his earliest instructors. That's a name familiar to anyone who has done any piano practicing, his various exercises have endured.

4. Liszt's father took him around Europe on concert tours at an early age. I never had thought about the logistical difficulties - the concert industry didn't exist in anything approaching the format we know it. Not to mention difficult travels; this started shortly after the Napoleonic era.

5. The way this author tells it, large-scale piano recitals didn't exist prior to Liszt - one reason being that the piano technology wouldn't have permitted it. Piano performances were done in salon settings, probably building on from the harpsichord traditions. Liszt and his father ran across a piano manufacturer (Erard) in Paris who had an instrument that permitted much more difficult technical achievements at the keyboard, plus had the sound-generating capacity to fill large halls. Other manufacturers were making similar progress. I had no idea about this sequence.

6. And the description of a piano program as a "recital" - where did that come from? Of course, it was Liszt. Not clear exactly why he used it, but the term certainly caught on. His approach to programming also became a model.

7. It also was interesting to me that the early recitals so often ended with the performer doing "improvisations," often on themes submitted by the audience. Liszt supposedly was the master of this. Contrast to today's programs which - as much as I like them - are dominated by faithful renderings of whatever has become the accepted presentation of a work. I would believe the composers didn't intend for performances to be limited in this way.

8. Many of the commercial arrangements sound familiar. Erard shipped pianos wherever Liszt performed around Europe, gratis. And sold pianos everywhere - no possibility of better advertising than having Liszt demonstrate the product. Like today's "Steinway artists."

9. It was most interesting to read about Lizst's interactions with other 19th century luminaries, such as Balzac, Victor Hugo, George Sand, Chopin (Polish refugees were in Paris following yet another Russian sack of Warsaw), Robert & Clara Schumann, Hector Berlioz. Even a brief exposure to Beethoven in the early going.

10. There is a character in "Les Miserables" named Cosette - which is an unusual name. Turns out it is a diminutive for Cosima, Liszt's daughter - for whom Victor Hugo named the character.

11. These 19th century folks so often are involved in the 1848 revolutions - in Liszt's case, Hungarian nationalism was rampant as they sought a better deal with their Austrian overlords. Liszt lived mostly in Paris during these years, but was enthusiastically supportive of Hungary, did tours there, etc.