There are authors I literarily fall in love with after reading one of their books, only to get disappointed when I read the next one. In the case of Magda Szabó, however, I cannot but confirm the enthusiasm I had tried to convey in this post. Pilátus, which I read in its Italian translation (La ballata di Iza, Torino: Einaudi 2006, trans. Bruno Ventavoli) deals with the complex mother and daughter relation that would later be the leitmotiv of Szabó's most famous novel, Az ajtó, but it does so by taking the reader through a merciless journey into the ravages of a relationship embittered by a lack of communication.
Iza, who works as a successful medical doctor in Budapest, returns to her hometown to settle a few things after her father's death. Considered a good and caring daughter, Iza feels she needs to take care of her aging mother, and takes the woman with her to Budapest. However, for her mother this sort of uprooting and the feeling of being old and useless will be an ordeal she'll find more and more difficult to live with, and she'll sink into a depression that her daughter won't be able to diagnose.
Iza and her mother, the new and the old, are totally incapable of communicating. Iza acts out of the strict sense of duty that has tinted all her life, a sense of duty that cannot soothe the mother's desperate and silent cry for love and care. The mother, on the other hand, makes an effort to become familiar with Iza's world, but she is not able to understand it, as much as she's not able to understand Iza's need for isolation and, most important, her need to forget the past. The wall between the two women will inevitably prove lethal for both of them.
It would be too easy to take sides with Iza's emotionally abused mother and label Iza as a cold-hearted, non-affective daughter and woman. It would be too easy but also misleading. Because Iza is indeed capable of feeling love, hatred, fear and despair. However, she's absolutely incapable of showing these feelings. Her former husbands calls her a selfish coward without understanding Iza's real problem, that of being like a foreigner who can't speak the local language. Iza, who has chosen to reject the language of emotion and feeling, preferring to lock herself up in a sterile, lifeless world, has forgotten how to speak with her own heart. She doesn't see people's real needs, and people don't see the scared child behind her mask. Eventually, Iza lets out one loud cry, but it's too late. She has chosen her fate - loneliness - and her cry will go unanswered.
A painful, almost heartbreaking novel, whose limpid prose skilfully depicts family dynamics and the sometimes difficult task of being a daughter.
Iza, who works as a successful medical doctor in Budapest, returns to her hometown to settle a few things after her father's death. Considered a good and caring daughter, Iza feels she needs to take care of her aging mother, and takes the woman with her to Budapest. However, for her mother this sort of uprooting and the feeling of being old and useless will be an ordeal she'll find more and more difficult to live with, and she'll sink into a depression that her daughter won't be able to diagnose.
Iza and her mother, the new and the old, are totally incapable of communicating. Iza acts out of the strict sense of duty that has tinted all her life, a sense of duty that cannot soothe the mother's desperate and silent cry for love and care. The mother, on the other hand, makes an effort to become familiar with Iza's world, but she is not able to understand it, as much as she's not able to understand Iza's need for isolation and, most important, her need to forget the past. The wall between the two women will inevitably prove lethal for both of them.
It would be too easy to take sides with Iza's emotionally abused mother and label Iza as a cold-hearted, non-affective daughter and woman. It would be too easy but also misleading. Because Iza is indeed capable of feeling love, hatred, fear and despair. However, she's absolutely incapable of showing these feelings. Her former husbands calls her a selfish coward without understanding Iza's real problem, that of being like a foreigner who can't speak the local language. Iza, who has chosen to reject the language of emotion and feeling, preferring to lock herself up in a sterile, lifeless world, has forgotten how to speak with her own heart. She doesn't see people's real needs, and people don't see the scared child behind her mask. Eventually, Iza lets out one loud cry, but it's too late. She has chosen her fate - loneliness - and her cry will go unanswered.
A painful, almost heartbreaking novel, whose limpid prose skilfully depicts family dynamics and the sometimes difficult task of being a daughter.
Posts
