Nový zemepán

by Mór Jókai

Ľúbostný romantický príbeh z predrevolučného Maďarska 19. storočia.

Genres: Classics, Hungarian Literature

37 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1863

About the author

Mór Jókai, born Móric Jókay de Ásva, outside Hungary also known as Maurus Jokai or Moriz Jokai, was a Hungarian dramatist and novelist. He was born in Komárom, the Kingdom of Hungary (today Komárno, Slovakia, southern part remains in Hungary).

Reviews

[Morena · Rating 4 out of 5]

Monty Python meets Anna Karenina in Hungary. The farce was sometimes a bit much, and the characters are two dimensional, but Jokai knew the time and his beloved "Dolne Uhri" land, the laws, the superstitions, the enmities. His bitterness about Austrian rule drips through his character, the old "zemepan" and former county judge Geranvolgy. The book starts with Geranvolgy gradually giving up all joys to spite the new rules the government is imposing on Hungarians. However there is another reason for his self denial and recluse life, and it becomes apparent half way through the story when the austrian police discovers a box with the picture of Geranvolgy's imprisoned nephew and the letters tat G has been writing to his nephew without ever sending them.

(crappy translation from slovak)

"My dear, beloved, unforgettable son!
One day when you are free again and can look at the wide sky, I will have long since stopped seeing through the dirt and shrubs. If anyone other than you and the one I have authorized to hide these letters, learnt about this, he would say I am crazy. An old man who writes love letters and sends them to your portrait (hidden in a little box). Who would understand me? Or should I write letters to you, when all the prison guards will first read them and only then the letters will reach you? Should I write in these letters about what I am allowed to do, or should I risk my heavy hand writing some bitter word that could make your chains even heavier, or should I reveal to you in my incoherent letter that I am punished a hundredfold with you, that I sit in prison with you, what you miss, I deny myself, when you are alone, I am alone too, but in my spirit I sit there with you, in front of your cold bed, and bear the burden of your chains with you? No one must know that, not even you. Only then, when it is all over. When you will be silver-haired and nothing but cold dust will remain of me, only then you must know how immensely I loved you. I hide my dispositions regarding your future well in this cupboard. I must keep them secret, for if I had them with me, the relatives who want to turn my estate into their inheritance would certainly abuse them -- there is no doubt about that -- as soon as I close my eyes. From these letters you will learn all you need. For now I am counting the days; their end is far beyond the limits of my life. Even a shipwrecked man on the open sea knows that the shore is a hundred miles away, but still he clings to a broken plank and swims..."

[tsenge · Rating 4 out of 5]

azannyauristenit, ez meg ugy is elvezheto volt, hogy nagy rohanasomban 200 oldalt toltam le a torkomon kb egyhuzamban

[Zsuzsanna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Még mindig ez a kedvenc Jókaim. Meggyőződésem, hogy ezt kéne tanítani, nem a szerencsétlen Kőszívűt vagy a remek Szaranyembert. Ez a könyv ugyanis vicces. És persze kicsit kétségbeejtő, hogy így 150 év után is pontos tükre a magyar népléleknek és viszonyoknak.