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I did like some vivid pictures that emerged from the dense, matter-of-fact style. The local pub is infested with spiders that spin their webs over everything that settles immobile for even a short time - even the drinks of those sleeping off an all-nighter. I certainly didn't enjoy the midpoint scene where character development is had through animal abuse.
It seems stupid to dismiss one whole country's literature with one fell statement, but perhaps modern Hungarian literary fiction just isn't my bag. I've tried Sandor Marai and found him equally ultra-lanquid, low on plot and high on a sort of pomposity I could do without. The narrator here feels the necessity to give us too much information, in a dense way, and I can see how and why the intimate, close-up style gives everything relevance, and enriches the writing. But for it to me be much more friendly, and successful, the bigger picture, giving the location and characters more depth, honesty and the chance to be pinned down in their world (and therefore ours) was needed.
I must thank the publishers for my review copy.