Hello Gentle Reader
Hungarian literature, of late has garnered quite the following and success in the western literary world. Its reputation as a literary canon of (post)-Soviet nightmares, and holocaust grief and guilt, as well as World War II survivors dreams shattered; of disturbing and often violent images; a constant prevalence of a rather bleak outlook, have all subjected the reading population to being moved and awe inspired, by its bleak landscapes and serious inclination for a honest depiction of the human condition in a cold world. There is no socialist realism; nothing that honours the proletariats struggle, in beautiful images and often utopian concepts. However the working class has removed the shackles of bourgeois or the aristocracy is not praised; because it never happened. The social injustices were still prevalent, if not amplified under communist rule. It is gritty and grim; but also metaphysical and abstract; as well as grounded in the constant struggle of the everyday. The consistent conflict of the mundane. Questions that are grounded in reality – such as where ones next meal is coming from; often at times become questions of metaphysical stasis – or lack thereof.
Fernec Barnás novel “The Ninth,” opens with a violent dream that our main protagonist has dreamt of:
“Last night I had a dream, and in it I was brave: three boys were coming toward me as I stood in a clearing. At first I didn’t recognize them, but then I saw that it was Perec and his pals. The shortest one had a hatchet in his hand. I thought they wanted to do that again. Just how I took away the hatchet I do not know, but take it away I did, and then I did what I’d done in my other dream. It happened so fast that this time I didn’t even see any blood, though they must have spilled a lot. Then I waited for the police. . . . When one of the policemen put a hand on my shoulder, the hatchet was still in my hand. Holding it felt good.”
“The Ninth,” is narrated by a child. The ninth child of a family of ten children, and two parents; a mother and a father. This however does work toward the author’s advantage. Writing from the perspective of a child is never easy. It often fails; especially when writing from the perspective of a child, for adults. With a use of simple language and subjectivity of the first person, that often borders on the stream of consciousness; and a clever use of dramatic irony and understatement, Fernec Barnás succeeds, in writing a novel about the true miseries of life under the communist regime from the perception of a young child, who tries to express understanding of a world that resents understanding; all the while not truly be condescending to the narrator.
The stories bones, describes the life of an impoverished large family. With a very cold and distant religiously devote mother, and an entrepreneurial father; who is at his wits end and in direct conflict with the ruling communist regime, because of his ‘capitalist,’ venture, of making devote and sacred religious items, in secret; all of which happens during the Goulash Communist regime in Hungary during the nineteen-sixties. Alienation is furthered by mental as well as learning disabilities, with physical disabilities.
The Goulash Communist Regime of Hungary received its name, from the namesake dish, and symbol of the country. Goulash is known as a hodgepodge, stew or soup – depending on the thickness of the broth; it is a mixture of meat (beef and pork are sometimes used simultaneously), a large assortment of vegetables (potatoes are most frequent used) and noodles; among with a variety and varying different spices; paprika though is often cited as a must have for this particular dish. Of course there are variations of the Goulash dish. Gulyás à la Székely for example, calls for reduction of the potatoes and added sauerkraut and sour cream. Fake Goulash also called Mock Gulyás substitutes beef bones for the meat and add vegetables. Bean Gulyás (Bean Goulash) has potatoes and caraway seeds omitted, and added kidney beans. Csángó Gulyás uses sauerkraut and rice in lieu of potatoes and pasta.
All the varieties of the Goulash dish all represent the Goulash Communist Regime. It was a hodgepodge of free market economics and communist ideals. During its time, the human rights record of the country improved; which most likely improved living conditions, and the general wellbeing of the general population of Hungary. Its quiet reforms, and deviations away from the interpretations of the yeti Stalin, allowed the people of Hungary to experience freedoms and pleasures that other countries of the Eastern Bloc were not allowed. If one were to compare this novel to that of Herta Müller’s “The Passport,” one would see a notable difference in how the government’s creeping shadow in the shape of a long and large spider, is portrayed. In Herta Müller’s novella it is everywhere: from the eyes of the death owl on the roofs of the village, to the government officials building. There is a piece of its tainted crookedness in everyone. No one was immune to the corrosive touch, in Herta Müller’s novels because the temptation and corruption of the government was everywhere; and was a simple common place reality of day to day life. Compared with Fernec Barnás novel, one can see a lighter tone to the Communist Regime that had taken its hold of Hungary. One such example is that the neighbours of the main protagonist offer the children to go over, and watch the football game; though their father (a tyrant in his own right) pushes such charity aside, and remarks that the children will have electricity in the “big house,” a dream the narrator thinks about often. The fact that electricity was so abundant, led me to some complete misunderstanding, of what I had expected. Electricity in abundance was a shock; but television and satellite, truly sent me for a loop. Such ‘western,’ items in the part of the world so isolated and alienated, by the Soviet Communist regime, truly showed the variations – and what they entailed; in the former Eastern Bloc.
But do not be deceived, hardships, and the ever present creeping shadow throughout the novel. Though the narrator does not understand or even recognize it, let alone comprehend it, there is certainly a feeling of dread, which is played alongside the characters innocence.
When using a child as a narrator, innocence is always going to be present. There will always be innocence used within the narrative. For that is part of the character to truly exist. Such examples include, the narrators understand why his brother Priest is so thin, and does not have any excess body or skin, is certainly acute to him reading all the time. He also comes up with excesses for why his mother is so distant:
“Maybe one effect of all her spiritual sustenance is that she can’t go touching bodies left and right.”
Which would explain the narrator’s sense that his mother is “outright scared of touching us.”
But the novel changes in its childhood innocence and ignorance rather quickly. Were once wisdom was presented in the context of “kids say the darndest things,” context, entering the darker dimensions, of childhood innocence being stripped away; by a rite of passage that is brought on by stealing. It is than that the child’s subconsciousness tries to comprehend and understand the conflict of desire and guilt over his actions. His hands are heavy; and guilt wracks throughout his body; he no longer is able to be just a child any longer. He had crossed the threshold into the adult world – not saying that crime or stealing is exclusively an adult action; but recognition of right and wrong, and choosing to engage in the later, is seen as an adult concept. Where children are free as butterflies; adults are chained to the ground, and are forced to deal with a morally ambiguous and often cantankerous world. It is one thing to fight as children; as scraps are always known to happen. It is another entirely to commit a crime that actually is in direct violation of the law; which show its severity as a crime rather than a simple misbehaviour.
Yet somehow our narrator a constant silent observer; because of his lack of speech skills. He does not experience anger. His survival in school is done only because of his reluctance, but dutiful bow at taking the shoves and attacks of his classmates. He does not understand a lot of the world. Though he offers his own take on the world, and comes up with reasons for the world around him. Why the belly is fat, why his mother is the way she is, why his father is the way he is – everything is open to his subjectivity; and though his answers are at times wrong, they provide him with the comfort of fighting off the unknown. Though nothing fights off his yearning for food, and his hunger. All forms of hunger are depicted, from the deep down burning sensation of starvation; right down to the moral crumbs that his family – especially his father; spreads out around his family. There is a lot of abuse in this novel as well. A, joyless and hapless childhood is brought on by Catholicism’s often lack of pleasure and devote puritan stance and spiritual sustenance over any concept of human or earthly sustenance; which goes as far as deriving a mother away from any actual emotional and loving tender physical contact with her children. But there is also a commercial and capitalist side to the act of religion – at least for his father. The children make rosaries and make the quota of the evenings rosaries as set down by their father, to make the money necessary to build “the big house,” until than all deprivation such as a flushable toilet; running water, electricity – it is all deprived; even food is deprived, as the mother is forced to sell her engagement ring to provide for her children. All of this though for the narrator is just life – for he knows nothing better.
The narrator’s abuse has become so extreme that he cannot even understand let alone recognize anger or hatred; which may explain the feeling of a second self in his body; when he commits certain actions that are less than appropriate.
In the end, it is an interesting novel. One that uses a child’s voice to render the complexities of life under the Communist Regime in Hungary. This must not have been an easy task. Writing in a child’s voice has plenty of pit falls; and heavy scrutiny is always placed on the believability of the story itself. Though suspension of disbelief is always something that must be done – regardless of what narrative or genre; the suspension of rationality and disbelief, is a rewarding reading, in its depiction of Hungary during this period in history. With dark humour, dramatic irony, and a compelling narrator, Fernec Barnás truly did achieve something. The author was able to achieve the harsh realities of life under Communist Regime, the inhumane conditions that presided over this family and their alienation; but also of the hypocrisy of the faith, the devote and the capitalist microcosm of the father, in his suckling off of the Communists countries resources and social programs in order to fund his own ambitions (in secret). Truly a fascinating and gritty portrait of a part of history. Full of complexities and a simple language, it is a novel that is wroth recommending.
Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader
Take Care
And As Always
Stay Well Read
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M. Mary
