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3.54 AVERAGE
3.54 AVERAGE
Kafka in a Travelodge: although written in 1970, I feel sure Ferenc Karinthy must have travelled by Ryanair and stayed in an Ibis at some point, as the alienation of Budai in Metropole feels like lived experience. Journeying from home in Hungary to a linguistics conference in Helsinki, our unfortunate traveller, whether by bureaucratic cock up or his own fuzzy-headed mistake, ends up in a bizarre foreign city that he cannot identity, where no one appears to speak or understand either his own or any other recognisable language. His struggle to make himself understood, and to understand others, is of an order that mixes phoning the customer service department of an energy or telecoms company with applying to the Passport Office or dealing with HMRC. Unable to communicate or escape, Budai enters a bizarre Stockholm-type relationship with the elevator girl at his hotel, but when he runs out of money and is evicted, the downward spiral inevitably accelerates. The fine line between an ordered, civilised life and chaos and destitution elucidated with a spare, compelling prose. Karinthy was clearly a writer of some high order, and he finds a worthy translator in the poet George Szirtes.
challenging
dark
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Je ne sais pas trop qu'en penser. J'ai eu la même sensation d'oppression que dans un livre de Kafka. Tu tournes en rond dans un lieu inconnu, au milieu d'une foule constante, dans un langage incompréhensible. La solitude.
Mais.. Je sais pas.. Il m'a manqué un truc pour qu'il soit vraiment génial.
Mais.. Je sais pas.. Il m'a manqué un truc pour qu'il soit vraiment génial.
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
tense
medium-paced
This is Hungarian classic and a dystopian novel. The plot is character-driven so much as the entire story is that of Budai's attempt to find his way home from a neverending city where the language, customs and politics remain completely decipherable to him.
An excellent addition to the mid-20th century novels that attempts to understand the political culture of the day.
An excellent addition to the mid-20th century novels that attempts to understand the political culture of the day.
An Hungarian linguist attempts to travel to Helsinki for a conference but, somehow, ends up in a strange place where nobody speaks any language he knows. He attempts to make himself understood and to decipher the world around him but with little success. Without communication and normal relationships - despite the teeming crowds of the endless city in which he finds himself - his life deteriorates until he is living in the street.
There are wonderful images - various references to past empires, the construction site of a tower which rises constantly as Budai (our linguist narrator) passes.
This is the only novel of Karinthy's to be translated and it has earned comparison to Kafka. It's not a pale imitation however but a disturbing, funny and compelling novel.
There are wonderful images - various references to past empires, the construction site of a tower which rises constantly as Budai (our linguist narrator) passes.
This is the only novel of Karinthy's to be translated and it has earned comparison to Kafka. It's not a pale imitation however but a disturbing, funny and compelling novel.
Parlandone con un’amica prima ancora di leggerlo, mi sono ritrovato a esitare sul titolo dicendo qualcosa come “Non vedo l’ora di leggere… Èpepe? Epèpe? Epepè?” E lei, che è tra quelli che me l’hanno consigliato: “Hai già colto lo spirito del libro”.
Mi sentivo brillante a pensare a Epepe in termini di incubo, salvo poi scoprire che quasi tutte le recensioni lo definiscono così. Se non altro è una conferma che sia proprio questa la sensazione che suscita: Budai, prendendo l’aereo sbagliato, finisce in un posto dove non si parla nessuna lingua a lui nota, una città composta da un marasma continuo di persone che anziché aiutarlo gli tirano gomitate, lo scansano o gli gridano contro.
Budai non è un turista qualunque, è un linguista le cui conoscenze danno vita a piani ingegnosi che nella realtà lo avrebbero aiutato subito. Qui, purtroppo, farsi capire o imparare la lingua è un’impresa ardua, impossibile.
Non nascondo che all’inizio l’angoscia e la frustrazione mi rendevano difficile andare avanti. Un mese dopo averlo letto, mi stupisco di quanto ricordi tutto così distintamente. È memorabile come solo i migliori incubi possono essere.
Per chi è rimasto traumatizzato da Epepe, quale antidoto più dolce e a tratti onirico alla sua incomunicabilità se non The Arrival di Shaun Tan?
Mi sentivo brillante a pensare a Epepe in termini di incubo, salvo poi scoprire che quasi tutte le recensioni lo definiscono così. Se non altro è una conferma che sia proprio questa la sensazione che suscita: Budai, prendendo l’aereo sbagliato, finisce in un posto dove non si parla nessuna lingua a lui nota, una città composta da un marasma continuo di persone che anziché aiutarlo gli tirano gomitate, lo scansano o gli gridano contro.
Budai non è un turista qualunque, è un linguista le cui conoscenze danno vita a piani ingegnosi che nella realtà lo avrebbero aiutato subito. Qui, purtroppo, farsi capire o imparare la lingua è un’impresa ardua, impossibile.
Non nascondo che all’inizio l’angoscia e la frustrazione mi rendevano difficile andare avanti. Un mese dopo averlo letto, mi stupisco di quanto ricordi tutto così distintamente. È memorabile come solo i migliori incubi possono essere.
Per chi è rimasto traumatizzato da Epepe, quale antidoto più dolce e a tratti onirico alla sua incomunicabilità se non The Arrival di Shaun Tan?
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
This started out so promising. I love the premise of a linguist finding himself in a city where he cannot read or understand the spoken language. While I myself am no linguist, I find language fascinating and thought this would be captivating as the main character discovers his path through the city.
Yet, I had to put the book aside halfway through, as nearly 100 pages were just reiterating his repeated failures at making a breakthrough. When I came back to it, I started skimming and reading the first sentence of each paragraph. This continued for the last half of the book and I really don't feel I've missed out on anything.
I understand the Sartre/No Exit-esque type of existential hell this was going for and the communist-era social aspect, both of which I appreciate and admire. But did I enjoy this book? Ultimately, no.
Yet, I had to put the book aside halfway through, as nearly 100 pages were just reiterating his repeated failures at making a breakthrough. When I came back to it, I started skimming and reading the first sentence of each paragraph. This continued for the last half of the book and I really don't feel I've missed out on anything.
I understand the Sartre/No Exit-esque type of existential hell this was going for and the communist-era social aspect, both of which I appreciate and admire. But did I enjoy this book? Ultimately, no.
Brilliant book. The opening few days of his struggle to be understood are incredibly claustrophobic, it was like my worst nightmare come true. Eventually you get a sense of, if not what is actually going on, at least what the book is doing and where it is going. By the end it has painted a really haunting picture of the modern world where people shout at each other constantly without listening, every person living nearly entirely in their own solipsistic world. Despite the age of the book it feels perfectly appropriate in the age of internet outrage and a post-Brexit Britain after a vote that clearly felt more like a cry for attention and a voice than any reasoned judgment on the issue at hand.