From the Embers

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Memoir of Hungary (1971, published in English in 2001), Hungarian title: Föld, föld...! ISBN 963-9241-10-5 The counterpoint of the ghostly female characters, Kristina and Nini, presented in extreme roles; one as irresistible goddess that triggers wild passions, the other as the saintly figure of devoted surrogate mother, adds to the essence of the otherwise unoriginal tonality of the plotline. Meditation is not an isolated act of consciousness. It's connecting to the dream. It's being still so that the wonder of spirit can flow outward, so that the world touches me and I touch the world. It's leaving my body and my mind and becoming spirit again, whole and perfect and shining.

My job is to choose what appears. Easy to say but hard to do, to get out of the way enough to allow the energy to flow. I’ve been on a binge reading Hungarian authors lately and Sandor Marai is the master. This is the 6th book of his I have read. Be thankful, offer prayers of gratitude for the blessings already in your life, whether health, prosperity or productivity, and more blessings will come." Sándor Márai (originally Sándor Károly Henrik Grosschmied de Mára) was a Hungarian writer and journalist. It is as if Márai's aim from the beginning had been not to bestow significance on numerous life events of a handful of people but instead on an acute analysis of human actions and how individual acts of indiscretion feature in the greater scheme of things. How eventually everything dies out and ceases to matter, after creating a few evanescent ripples on the surface of the placid lake of human existence.

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Home is the culmination of my hopes and dreams and desires. Home is a feeling in the centre of my chest of rightness, balance and harmony of the mind, body and spirit. Bree and Eason survive the fire that takes their partners – but neither of them are truly living after that fateful night. As a single dad with nowhere to turn, Eason moves in with Bree despite the old tensions and the new grief they share. He came from a world where soft music lilted through dining rooms and ballrooms and salons, but not the way his friend liked it. It was played to make life sweeter and more festive, to make women’s eyes flash and men’s vanity throw sparks. Konrad’s music, on the other hand, didn’t offer forgetfulness; it aroused people to feelings of passions and guilt, and demanded that people be truer to themselves in heart and mind. Such music is upsetting. cu gesturi lente, generalul aruncă jurnalul îngust în șemineu... Flăcările se înalță tot mai sus, ceara sigiliului s-a topit deja..., o mînă nevăzută parcă ar răsfoi filele de culoarea pergamentului vechi, dintre flăcări se ivește brusc scrisul Krisztinei, literele ascuțite, colțuroase, așternute odinioară pe hîrtie de o mînă prefăcută între timp în praf, acum focul devorează literele, hîrtia, jurnalul dispare, la fel ca mîna care și-a scris în taină gîndurile pe aceste file. În mijlocul jăratecului rămîne numai un pumn de cenușă neagră - e mătăsoasă, la fel ca moarul, materialul fin al hainelor de doliu” (pp.166-167). Cuarenta y un años dan para mucho; hubo una guerra, cayó el Imperio y se instauró un nuevo orden mundial en el que caballeros como el general no eran más que pintorescas reliquias. Y ahora, como anunciando el regreso del amigo perdido, vientos de guerra barrían de nuevo Europa.

He also disliked the Communist regime that seized power after World War II, and left – or was driven away – in 1948. After living for some time in Italy, Márai settled in the city of San Diego, California, in the United States. Sándor Márai has a way of creating a mood consistent with the dreariness of the story within and it is this mood which metamorphoses into an important character itself. Like an invisible, guiding force, this mood becomes the reader's constant companion as he/she slowly navigates his/her way around the imperfect lives of Márai's characters. E poi a volte fa delle riflessioni così petulanti, barbose, proprio da vecchio annoiato, che non puoi essere d'accordo nemmeno se ti piace alla follia il modo in cui sono scritte.

We approach our lives on different trajectories, each of us spinning in our own separate, shining orbits. What gives this life its resonance is when those trajectories cross and we become engaged with each other, for as long or as fleetingly as we do. There's a shared energy then, and it can feel as though the whole universe is in the process of coming together. I live for those times. No one is truly ever "just passing through." Every encounter has within it the power of enchantment, if we're willing to look for it. What initially looked like a nostalgic encounter between close friends, gradually acquires shades of darker colors that escalate in intrigue and dramatic tension until the facts that ruined the lives of these two gentlemen are brought into full light by the ruthless evidence of words. A duel without weapons is about to take place, and the enduring memory of a woman will be the point into which both men’s destinies will converge. The Rebels (1930, published in English in 2007, translation by George Szirtes), Hungarian title: A zendülők. ISBN 0-375-40757-X First off, it's going to be very hard to write this without spoilers. So I will try my best. However if you get one thing from this review Go read this book .

Where this book shines is the freaking dialogue! I found myself laughing out loud and rolling my eyes and being seduced. The banter here is absolutely amazing an We are born into a state of relationship, and our ceremonies and rituals are guides to lead us deeper into that relationship with all things. Big lesson? Relationships never end; they just change. In believing that lies the freedom to carry compassion, empathy, love, kindness and respect into and through whatever changes. We are made more by that practice.Sándor Márai combina magistralmente en esta novela una historia apasionante de amistad, amor y despecho con una reflexión profunda y certera sobre las relaciones humanas. El autor confronta a dos personajes tan similares en su apariencia como opuestos en su fuero más íntimo para explorar las razones y los impulsos, tan distintos en cada persona, que nos mueven a actuar, a amar, a huir. the beginning and the last 30 ish percent was pretty good, and I am interested in maybe reading the next book, I just hope the author decides to use more of their own story and words because this definitely had potential. As I read Embers, this song hung heavily on my psyche due to its similar metaphorical luminosity: With age, memory enlarges every detail and presents it in the sharpest outline.When the rhapsody of those evening lyrics dissolved into the heartbeat of these present words, I heard a tremor that wasn’t a simulacrum of a faint earthquake but the obstreperous throbbing of a vein - a matter of delicate urgency where an inflammation not arrested in time leaves a spot defunct; worse, violated. Such violated lumps of memory hover around a life like the spirit - unseen, unlit, frequently uncouth but always undone.

Two old men, one dimly lit room, and the past awakening. That's pretty much the set up for Sándor Márai's solemn 1942 novel, which was originally titled 'Candles burn until the end' in Hungary. He has a growing popularity post-death, due to his work, but also his troubled life, that is mirrored by Hungary's grave misfortunes in the 20th century, and it's sad to think at the time he took his own life in California of all places in 1989, the literary world still knew little of him. Born in the then Austro-Hungarian empire, Márai grew up with war, revolution, and exile, before establishing himself as first a poet and then novelist, but then followed more war, revolution, and exile. He is not only regarded as one of the great Hungarian writers, but also a guardian of the nation's soul, a sort of talisman of the new, democratic Hungary. With a shining honour, and no interest in political games, he infuriated the Nazis and the communists, by refusing to have his work published in his native land whilst Soviet troops were present, thus sentencing himself to obscurity and poverty. At least he stood by his principles. I admire him for that. Rechizitoriul e menit să introducă două întrebări capitale. Nu are rost să le menționez, aș strica surpriza. Konrad ar trebui să-i ofere gazdei un răspuns. The storyline is amazing and the world-building is just incredible and detailed but not so much that I lose interest in the story. I literally could go on forever about how amazing this book is and it's honestly up there with Helfyre by Murs. I was on the edge of my seat for the entirety of the book and the way she left book one is so freaking genius but evil at the same time (Fay you know exactly what I'm talking about) The spice in the book is top-notch ( The hot springs anyone?!) the chemistry between the main characters is chef's kiss! Also, the relationship between Davyna and Evren is so special and warm and fuzzy but heartbreaking all at once. Hera on the other hand can go to hell and eat glass for the rest of eternity. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. She's THE most toxic woman ever and my blood was boiling every time I had to read any chapter that mentioned her name. Davyna deserves better and so did Elias. (still not over THAT scene) Embers - “heart songs, spirit songs “ which become “honor songs “ as he shares them with us . How beautiful is that?

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Márai’s characters emerge from the intrigue he dexterously surrounds them with rather than the convoluted tapestry of their psychological portraits. rscHenrik’s interrogation reads more like a philosophical monologue than a real conversation, and his guest remains a shadowy presence who listens passively to Henrik’s accusations. But a handicap in Márai’s hands becomes a valuable asset. A small volume of wisdom, well-worth contemplating. The book is enhanced with beautiful photography. L'atmosfera, benché inquisitoria, potrebbe essere definita di sontuosa seduta analitica, dove la ragione non è sufficiente : le sue ragioni schiudono piuttosto nuovi interrogativi sullo scatenarsi delle passioni, sull'esile confine tra odio e amore... En El último encuentro asistimos a un diálogo entre los amigos reencontrados que, a medida que se desenmaraña la madeja de los recuerdos y crece la tensión, se va transformando en un particular ajuste de cuentas. Pero, aunque la venganza sea un plato que se sirve frío, tras cuarenta y un años en la nevera este manjar resulta ser bastante poco apetitoso y las explicaciones que el general lleva tanto tiempo esperando terminan teniendo un decepcionante regusto a disertación sobre la amistad, sobre la diferencia, sobre los secretos. En el fondo ambos, el honorable soldado y el amante de Chopin, son ya un anacronismo en los nuevos tiempos que convulsionan el Viejo Continente. Su tiempo se ha acabado y lo saben; sólo les queda una cosa por hacer: celebrar su último encuentro. Davyna Is my woman crush 100%. No question about it. The way Fay made her such a badass, but also showed that it's okay to fall down sometimes and that sometimes when the going gets tough, the tough gets going. I not only fell in love with davynas character but also her determination and confidence. Kadeyan is a bad boy daddy and I simp him for life. (written while I drool over him). Can we please talk about this quote from the book?