Why did I love this book?
There’s nothing quite like discovering an author you’ve never heard of who makes you want to find everything you can by them, the kind of writer who feels like a secret you can’t keep to yourself.
After devouring the sprawling, beautiful, delicate, vulgar, and voluptuous masterpiece that is Prae, something compels me to stop total strangers in the street: “Have you read Szentkuthy? You must…”.
Before Tim Wilkinson’s recent translations, this early 20th-century Hungarian modernist has remained almost entirely unknown outside of esoteric literary circles.
This is literature as diatribe, as rhapsody, as a profoundly conscious immersion in the surreality of everyday life. In a later work, Szentkuthy aptly describes his literary style: “…not an apprehensive, exaggerated self-consciousness, but experiments of primal vitality, which are in a special biological relationship with form…”
1 author picked Prae, Vol. 1 as one of their favorite books, and they share why you should read it.
Considered an eerie attack on realism, when first published in 1934, Miklós Szentkuthy's debut novel Prae so astonished Hungarian critics that many deemed it monstrous, derogatorily referred to Szentkuthy as cosmopolitan, and classified him alien to Hungarian culture. Incomparable and unprecedented in Hungarian literature, Prae compels recognition as a serious contribution to modernist fiction, as ambitious in its aspirations as Ulysses or À la recherche du temps perdu. With no traditional narration and no psychologically motivated characters, in playing with voices, temporality, and events, while fiction, Prae is more what Northrop Frye calls an anatomy (à la Lucian, Rabelais, &…