Amazon.com Review
In
A Book of Memories, Péter Nádas explored Stalinism and post-Communist Eastern Europe through the eyes of a novelist. The Hungarian author's first novel,
The End of a Family Story, also features a storyteller at its heart, but this time it is a young boy's rebellious, irreverent grandfather. "Grandpa used to tell me lots of stories. But not fairy tales, real stories," the unnamed narrator recalls. The grandfather tells about his years in the army during World War II, about his youth ("Shall I tell you the story of the suit?"), and often he draws on the Bible for material, mixing psalms and scripture into tales of fairies and fishermen. Fractured Hungarian history, bizarre genealogies--his stories are marvelous but disturbing.
But these yarns are by no means the only stories at work in Nádas's novel. At its center is the narrator's relationship with his elusive, undemonstrative father, a Stalinist functionary who betrays friends and family, only to be branded a traitor by those he worked for in the end. What makes The End of a Family History so powerful is Nádas's use of the child narrator as a filter for the adult experience of Communist Hungary. People die, people are arrested, people disappear--events that adults may rationalize but that children find simply incomprehensible. Written in chapter-long paragraphs and brimming with fantastical imagery (octopuses that swim through the air; a fish in a bathtub; a secret garden) Nádas's novel is heavily symbolic, psychologically acute, and infinitely compelling. --Margaret Prior
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.
From Publishers Weekly
As in his previous novel, The Book of Memories, Hungarian author Nadas intricately and beautifully relates concentric stories within stories. In this case, a boy struggles to comprehend the threatening forces wrought by the adults who are supposed to care for him, against the backdrop of Communist politics and, beyond, the larger realm of biblical history. Playing with the neighboring children, the unnamed first-person narrator enacts the "family story" as he knows it, involving himself and two of his friends: he plays Papa, Eva plays Mama and Gabor portrays the child in a makeshift domestic paradise. Nadas quickly shows the irregularities in the real-life model for this idyllic portrait: Papa comes home rarely, traveling at night, stinking of the "barracks where they held those interrogations," his clothes washed hastily overnight in benzene by the boy's principal caretaker, Grandmama. Terrible accusatory arguments between Papa and Grandpapa ensue during these visits; Nadas undercuts the narrative with brusque descriptions of traumatic events that happen later, namely the successive deaths of the boy's grandparents, the exposure of his "traitor" father and the boy's eventual delivery to an institution. Simultaneously, and most lyrically, Grandpapa, obsessed by the sin of his son and the desire to adhere to the truth, recounts to the boy the plight of the biblical Jews, "our ancestors," a story that was related by his own grandfather. Readers of The Book of Memories will find this slim volume knottier and less accessible than the previous work. Moreover, the reader is never apprised of what the father's actual crime is. For those who savor the language, however, unraveling Nadas's tightly skeined prose supplies its own rewards.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.