Péter Nádas - Parallel Stories

Vay explained to them the procedure, requiring exceptional and particular circumspection, saying that a pioneering law was in the making, much more severe than the one enacted last May,* as he put it, and that is why the interior minister needs this secret inventory. Finding it was but the first step in a grand, long-range plan, he added before falling silent.

At which moment he had a most unheimlich feeling that, with this obligatory silence, the lords were looking at him as if he were an agent provocateur.

Now these three men had been invited to the Montenuovo castle, some distance from the city, where the prince, whose sentiments regarding the Hungarian cause were unquestioned, was giving an exclusive luncheon in honor of the chief counselor. It promised to be a pleasant meal, since in the most delicate matters Elemér Vay and the prince held identical views and they both knew this of each other. Vay looked to the prince for a quiet sort of reinforcement against the other grandees who professed radical emotions and liberal views — for a loftier opinion unequivocally pronounced. The prince had been informed of details that, given the nature of the matter, the retired subprefect and the town clerk could not know, so the chief counselor could expect to receive the reinforcement as early as during the aperitif.

Only no ressentiment , gentlemen, no ressentiment at all, the prince responded severely to the subprefect’s first, rather emotional words.

By which he meant that such a tone, in his princely presence and on this question, was not permitted.

Over his glass the chief counselor shot a grateful glance to the prince. The two of them, unlike the others, did not surrender to emotions and sentiments when this subject came up; they were interested only in what was useful and whether what they considered useful was also plausible. Not only did they think that emotions had no place in the discussion, they had no use for views and opinions about foreign nationals. Which did not mean that they had not done the arithmetic showing the losses and gains of the proposed plan. If Hungarians, given their mental makeup, are more likely to hate Jews than hate subversive revolutionary ideas, even though the world has more to fear from the latter, then we need appropriate movements and arguments to protect them from a major Bolshevik upheaval. Therefore, not only is the inversion of cause and effect not problematic, it is downright fortunate and desirable.

And if others are already saying and doing this, it would be pointless to stand in their way, though it would also be a mistake not to keep this clever maneuver tightly controlled.

The final solution of the Jewish question may be achieved without further ado, for all time and to the complete satisfaction of our radicals.

But by itself, even the most thoroughgoing pogrom would be insufficient, as the prince was wont to say humorously, and it also would be foolish to play into Germany’s hands just to please the crowd.

They both inclined to consider beyond dispute Professor Lehr’s famous thesis regarding tactical accommodation, and regretted that our romantic compatriots tended to forget that today’s German interests differ from those of the much hated and much missed Habsburgs. Subjugating or weakening Hungarians is far from being in the interests of Germany today. We must remember that according to the most advanced genetic studies, only the Hungarians, along with Norwegians, can revitalize the German race. And with these words, Elemér Vay was quoting a foremost authority in the science of genetics, Professor Otmar Baron von der Schuer. From our point of view, of course, this scientific claim is unacceptable, but it does make clear that the survival and vitality of Hungarians is of basic interest to the Germans, not only for their selfish racist reasons but because Hungarian and German plans coincide at several vital points on the political level. And it would be a fatal mistake not to exploit these points in order to strengthen the nation’s position. Our task is to maintain a calm, dignified, self-respecting, resolute, and, mainly, ever-polite attitude toward the German element. Spiel mit, aber sei Dir dessen stets Bewusst , he shouted triumphantly.

We must help them as best we can so that they may take up arms against our greatest common enemy, Bolshevism.

Many people say that tactical accommodation demands too much sacrifice, too much self-discipline, and is too risky. But we must play along with them without ever forgetting what we are doing. Our responsibility, said Elemér Vay, with his practical way of thinking rounding out the professor’s abstract argument, is to maintain a sensible balance between cooperation and resistance until the German element arrives at a point where it can carry out its far-reaching grand design.

Et puis il y a toujours la Sainte Vierge , as the prince said in his inimitable way, to jovial laughter, concluding the dinner-table conversation.

Blushing was becoming permanent on Madzar’s face, it ebbed and flowed on his milk-white skin.

He walked away from the hotel with long strides, stood for some time in the hazy heat but could not calm down outdoors either.

He watched the car receding in clouds of dust, absentmindedly greeted approaching and receding strangers a little way from the hotel, near the blinding white walls of nearby buildings. There was hardly a soul abroad in the stifling midday heat. He felt like breaking and smashing things; only when nearing the parental home did he slow down a bit. If at that moment his mother had appeared, he would have raged at her, he was sure, as his father used to rage. But reason told him he should enter the house quietly, very quietly. He had the urge to scream as he crossed the empty, dead yard. He went the long way around to avoid peeking from the corner of his eye into the workshop, whose doors were wide open for the expected guests, and to keep from rushing in to demolish the ridiculous furniture. He wouldn’t have had to do much to make the pieces fall apart, along with their puritan discipline.

I am ruining my own life.

In the summer midday, motionless silence settled over the city and the river.

An occasional stray fly on the veranda window, shaded by the grapevine bower, provided the only movement. There, in the middle of the veranda, stood the table set for three awaiting Mrs. Szemző. The plates decorated with a cheap pattern, the vulgarly colorful and barbarically cut glasses, the cheap, polished-to-death cutlery. He took off his jacket, let it slip from his hand, he had no more use for it. Quietly he kicked off his ugly perforated shoes, careful that they made no noise on the stone. He gazed at these shoes made especially for festive summer events, but what he was really looking at were the indentations his father’s feet had created in them. He kicked off his pants, quietly. Last, he literally tore off the short-sleeved shirt, which had become drenched under the jacket. He remained half-dressed like that for a long time, in his father’s long underpants and his own milk-white skin.

He could not sit down because the armchair made of willow twigs would make a loud cracking sound.

Eventually he stopped wanting to sweep the settings off the table, as his father had done more than once at a Sunday lunch, or to smash everything to pieces.

But there was no part of his body unacquainted with the joy of breaking things.

And then his utterly humiliated mother would come and pick up everything from the stone floor and even be glad no one had beaten her. She has spent her life as my father’s servant and she’d be glad to become mine. Which would break his heart, he felt. He heard no noise from the corridor because she was probably waiting on the other side of the yard, in the summer kitchen, with all the food ready to be served.