Stevie in the Bloodbath by István Örkény

Character list for “Stevie in the Bloodbath: A Grotesque Play in Two Parts” by István Örkény
A Mirror to the Cage: Three Contemporary Hungarian Plays
Edited and Translated by Clara Györgyey
Introduction by Ervin C. Brody
Fayetteville: The University of Arkansas Press, 1993
ISBN 1557282676

Motto:
This age, our parent—executioner
provisioned us with a bitter chance
that we may be heroes and murderers,
wielding the iron, in turn to be branded,
doers of meager deeds, dreamers of mighty dreams,
savers of lost souls, destroyers of our own selves,
at the same time, in the same place, and in the same person:
to each his own, according to his turn.

From István Örkény’s forward to the play:
This play is set in the twentieth century. I have chosen only basic situations from the events of our time. In more modern terms, I present archetypal situations that could have occurred at any time, anywhere, not just in Hungary in those days. At the premier performance of Ubu Roi, Alfred Jarry, one of the founders of modern drama, told his audience: “The action takes place in Poland, that is, nowhere!” I, on the other had, would like to shout into the ears of every spectator: “The action takes place in Hungary, that is, everywhere.”

As you will read in the playbill, there are four Stevies instead of one, among the characters. Many people asked my why. Ordinarily, as they suggest, a person bears only one name in a drama. In this case, however, it is not only the name these four share. Being each others’ contemporaries, their observations, experiences, and collective memories are also roughly the same. Only their attitudes are different. … We might stand on either side of the barricades at the same time and in the same person “according to his turn,” as I stated in the play’s motto. …

Postscript: I wrote the play in 1969, but “events” independent of me prevented its staging for over ten years. In the meanwhile, however, Stevie in the Bloodbath was published twice and received an enormous amount of wildly contradictory criticism, perhaps not without reason. (20-23)

What I’ve read of Örkény, One Minute Stories, The Flower Show, and The Toth Family, demonstrates a dark side to his irony and humor. This play proves to be darker, more ambivalent, more pessimistic. The bloodbath of the play’s title is the twentieth century and the play incorporates several of Örkény's One Minute Stories (I wish I knew which came first, but it doesn't matter for the humor and impact). The grotesqueries and absurdities of history and life can’t adequately be captured by irrationality and ludicrousness, but at least they can be highlighted by doing so.

Stevie exists as one person, but has (at least) two identities and, as you see from the Character List, at least four personalities. It helps that he also has numerous lives since he dies several times during the play. His mom mourns “[H]ow many times do I have to mourn my son?”, a figurative question probably asked often in Hungary during the 20th century. If nothing else Stevie embodies persistency as he attempts to break out from his constraints, usually dying as a result, only to return and try again.

Here’s one scene, where little Stevie, after an instantaneous conception, birth, and toddler phase, is taken by his mom to enroll in school. A problem quickly arises:

(page 59) MOM: Problem, comrade?
RESERVED: Look, Madame, our school’s for normal, healthy, flesh-and-blood kids. Yours won’t feel at home here. Why don’t you put him into the School for the Retarded and the Disabled?
MOM: We’ve been there already. They won’t take him. Our child, as you can see, is neither retarded nor disabled, he simply does not exist in the ordinary sense.
RESERVED: But how DOES he exist, if I may ask?
MOM: I don’t want to discuss it in front of him…(Steps closer, whispering) you see, he’s a little vacuum. (69) …

MOM: Not seeing him doesn’t stop me believing in him.
BLONDIE: Believing? Only believing in him, nothing more? How can I marry such an elusive person? How can I expect him to give me a child?
MOM: Try it! If you can’t believe in him, then he really does NOT exist, because, you know, he’s only a little vacuum.
BLONDIE: Vacuum??
MOM: To be more precise, a bit of an empty space, that is, a nothing. And yet, see how far he’s got!
BLONDIE: (in despair) A nothing?
MOM: Why, isn’t that enough? The two of us can love this nothing because that’s all we have. (72)

There are several examples of Örkény’s statement of manning either side of the barricade. At one point Stevie is tasked with murdering 127 fellow Hungarians. When the gravity of what he’s expected to do sinks in, Stevie chooses to stand in line with the victims while the firing squad follows his orders. Blondie wishes to marry Stevie in one scene while testifying against him in another, although her conscience suffers. Stevie confesses to everything good and bad, being a molester and a messiah, while there is a constant tension regarding the meaning of existence. Stevie turns out to be a reflection of 20th century forces, both in what he does and the forces that act on him.

A description of the scenes will sound flat, so I won’t describe many of Stevie’s various roles, identities, and propaganda that cover events across the 20th century. There is a courtroom scene where the judge and prosecutors speak gibberish, calling to mind the early days of the Soviet occupation of Hungary and their tribunals conducted only in Russian. Pervasive propaganda often changes the way people think, regardless of how much it lacks in logic or art. The end of the play covers one possibility of what’s in store for Hungary, as one of Stevie’s personalities (Diffident) leads a group on a tour of Budapest as it is (possibly) destroyed, although there is building going on at the same time. This ambivalence is what lends the play its charm and power.

The Toth Family by István Örkény

The Flower Show / The Toth Family by István Örkény (New York City: New Directions, 1982)

Matraszentanna is a small mountain town, so small, in fact, that it has no indoor plumbing. Anyone wishing an inside flush toilet has to install his own private pump. Only Professor Cipriani, the proud owner of the town’s one mansion, could afford such a luxury. The rest of the population have to make do with their outhouses.

Thus begins the first chapter of The Toth Family (translated by Clara Gyorgyey), setting the tone for the rest of the novella. Before the first chapter, though, is a preface in the form of a postcard from Gyula Toth, a soldier at the Russian front, informing his family that his company commander Major Varro would be spending his leave at their home. Since the major suffers from insomnia and an overly sensitive nose Gyula convinced him to relax with his parents in their rustic village.

Matraszentanna is a backward village, where the cesspool cleaner has a Ph.D. in law but chose being a cesspool expert since he makes twice as much money as a lawyer. Making money is an issue in the village since there are few opportunities to do so. People lease rooms in their homes to tourists bur recently the state gave the town a low rating. The visit by a high ranking official was a major event (pardon the pun). The walk from the station to the Toth home resembled a parade as the villagers line the street to get a glimpse of the major.

The Toth family was one of the more respected families in the village. Lajos had retired from the railroad and had been chosen town fire chief, a position he wore with pride. His wife, Mariska, and daughter Agi were devoted to Lajos and to Gyula. They receive the major with trepidation, planning his visit for weeks so that nothing will go wrong. The family hopes to gain from Major Varro’s visit by providing an easier life for Gyula at the front. Because of this concern, they overreact to everything the major does, says, or implies. They completely defer to him regardless of how silly his requests or how asinine their concerns turn out to be.

Major Varro turns out to be a complicated figure. He’s often described as half-mad because he does have some good points. He fails to realize the pressure his visit places on the Toth family. The madness in his actions comes from his role in the war and his inability to act outside of that role. Because of the danger of attack at night the major sleeps during the day and stays up all night, a trait he doesn’t change in the Toth home. His views on idleness carry over to his leave, too:

In a dark room even the softest noise sounds amplified—the volume is multiplied a hundred times. Now idleness has the same effect on the entire human organism as darkness on the organs of hearing: it reinforces internal sounds, causes distorted vision, and creates a rattling in the brain. Whenever my soldiers have nothing to do, I order them to cut off all their trouser buttons. Then they have to sew them back on. As a result, they are always calm and collected.

There are more examples of the impact of war, which remains highlighted throughout the story, but the Toth family provides their own examples in their complete submission to the major. Lajos can’t take the pressure and cracks up, first running away from home, then refusing to leave the outhouse. The novella looks at the state of sanity during wartime. It turns out that Gyula had been killed returning to the front after taking the major to the station—their torture at the hands of the major was needless. They had not received the notice of Gyula’s death because the postman, described as a half-wit, hated to deliver bad news to families he liked (and refused to deliver good news to those he disliked). In such a setting, his lunacy makes as much, or more, sense as the major’s actions, and definitelymore than that of the Toth family.

So why did Örkény choose the name Toth? An explanation from Michael Henry Heim’s introduction:

Toth is one of the most common Hungarian names, and Örkény is doubtless making a reference, none too veiled, to his compatriots’ double capitulation: to fascism during the war and Stalinism after it. Like the Hungarians, the Toths revolt in the end, and the why and how of their revolt supplies the novella with a satisfying finish.

I’ll agree with the easy capitulation, but keep in mind the Toth’s went through with their devotion to the major to help their son. Even this reason has a dark side, though, since another Hungarian boy would have to take Gyula’s place at the front. I included the last sentence in the quote because I don’t fully agree with it. The father revolts, it is true, but the mother and daughter aren’t aware of his actions—they have fully submitted to the major, switching their loyalty from Lajos to Major Varro. I’m not sure the ending was satisfying, either, although I suppose it was fitting in such an absurd story.

I enjoyed The Flower Show a little more of the two novellas included in this volume, but I highly recommend finding a copy to read both stories.

After publication in the mid-1960s, The Toth Family was adapted for the screen and stage. Here is a clip of the 1969 movie based on the story. There are no subtitles but it provides a good taste of the novella. The clip starts with the family constructing boxes for the bandage factory, a task Major Varro has them perform all evening. The mailman destroys the telegram with the bad news of Gyula’s death but delivers a postcard from the boy (that had been delayed) filling the family in on some of the major’s quirks. Because the family still have to perform their daily tasks after staying up all evening, they catch moments of sleep wherever they can.

The Flower Show by István Örkény

The Flower Show / The Toth Family by István Örkény (New York City: New Directions, 1982)

Although the scene and characters [of The Flower Show] are those of Budapest, the idea behind them came to Örkény in New York. Switching on the television set on the last day of a visit to America, he happened to see a documentary on death and dying. It set him thinking. How would an analogous program look in Hungary? And what if instead of merely interviewing the mortally ill the up-and-comping young documentarist contracted to film his subjects while they died and catch the actual moment of death, the transition between life and death?

Örkény chooses the subjects carefully: a professor of linguistics, a woman who works packing flowers, and a popular TV news commentator. Each represents a different segment of society, a different frame of reference, a different set of prejudices. The role of the news commentator is particularly telling because in him Örkény makes most explicit the issue he raises in one way or another on every page: how the very fact of reporting the news influences the news, that is, how it alters what actually happens.

(From the introduction by Michael Henry Heim, who also translated The Flower Show)

I apologize for the blog silence but one son's stomach bug has taken precedent over reading and posting. I was so impressed with some of Örkény's One Minute Stories I wanted to explore more of his works. I'll start with the two novellas in this volume, focusing on The Flower Show first. If I had to look for equivalents in what I've read so far of Örkény with something the English-speaking world is familiar, I'd nominate Monty Python’s Flying Circus. If I had to pick a comparison for the The Flower Show (1977), though, I'd pick Paddy Chayefsky's screenplay for Network (1976).

An assistant TV director, Aron Korom, proposes a documentary titled How We Die, focusing on three terminally ill patients and their last hours in order to focus on life's "necessary end," giving the "audience the priceless gift of the patients' most dramatic moments." Fortunately Korom promises to be tactful, not wishing "to offend the viewers' sensibilities or their taste." It turns out his idea was rejected solely on the title, which was later changed to The Flower Show.

The theme underlying all three patients looks at what is most important to these terminal patients in their last days. As the TV commentator notes late in the novella, what we find important is situational, not necessarily what we think it will be in advance. In addition to what is important to the patient, though, is what is important to the people around the dying person and the contrast between the (often) opposing goals. This opposition provides much of the humor and irony of the novella. For example, the professor tries to finish the book he is writing, taking his wife on as his typist, then assistant, and eventually a colleague. Because of this fulfillment and how he treated her, she comments that "the only time I was happy with him was when he was dying."

Mrs. Miko is the woman who works packing flowers. Her episode in the novella adds dimensions since, along with a close family member to the dying, we see co-workers and people that might benefit from the person's death. Their conflicts in interests and claims about what happens provide plenty of drama, irony, and satire. Everything comes together in the final terminal patient, TV commentator J. Nagy. Except...he wasn't exactly terminal. He had a heart attack six years earlier but continued to live it up, enjoying food, drink and women. Especially women. J. Nagy was a friend of Aron's and provided many of the objections to the documentary from the start:

"Remember how you said your project would combine poetry, science, and philosophy? Well, that's a lot of hot air, my friend. In the first place, because death is ugly and slapdash and art is all beauty and composition. And in the second place, there's no philosophy in a one-time thing like death. Philosophy is all generalizations. So philosophy's out too. And with science you're even farther off course. Any physicist will tell you that during the observation of minute and sensitive processes the mere presence of instruments of observation distorts the course of events. In other words, the death I die in the presence of the camera will differ from the death I would die if, say, only Aranka were present. So the scientific value of your film is nil, no more than an illusion. ... Forget about art and science. Shoot it as you see it. Make an honest documentary. Go about it as if you wanted to show a group of divers working underwater on a bridge. The only unusual thing is that in your film the divers drown."

Örkény explores the relationship between art and life as well as the role of art in life: "The mere existence of a work of art gives it meaning," Aron argues. OK, but if art does have meaning and influence, then what responsibility does the artist have regarding the what happens because of his art?

Which leads us back to the subject of what happens to the people around the dying person. J. Nagy's death focuses on the responsibility that should fall to Aron and his project. J. Nagy was healthy when Aron approached him to be in the documentary. Because of the documentary, though, J. Nagy confused his role in life, which will reach a natural end, with his role in the film. He retains his lustful ways (instructing Aron on the best time and angle to ogle the doctor's breasts, for example) but his deterioration coincides with his interest and study in how he will eventually die. Aron castigates J. Nagy for his boring proposals for death, not realizing J. Nagy was letting Aron know how and when he would die. Aron films what he sees as it happens but fails to realize what he is seeing.

There are plenty of other things to explore in this novella--Örkény packed it full of things to think about regarding the common unease about the topic of death, our varying reactions to it, and the voyeuristic role of the media. Why are the moments around death our "most dramatic moments"? Since we all know we will eventually die, why does what we find important supposed to change if we know the end is near? Örkény doesn't propose any solutions, but he's more than happy to lampoon some of the problems, many of which come from our so-called advancements.

I thoroughly enjoyed it and highly recommend finding a copy to read. My post on The Toth Family can be found here.

One Minute Stories by István Örkény

One Minute Stories by István Örkény, selected and translated by Judith Sollosy (Budapest, Corvina Books Ltd.)

I had been reading about some Hungarian plays and ran across István Örkény's name several times. The more I read about him the more I wanted to read something by him. I selected a collection of his shortest works for a taste of his style and I enjoyed them quite a bit. While I found the quality in this collection hit or miss, the hits are stellar and make me want to read more.

Örkény was born in Budapest in 1912 (so I missed his centenary year by a few months). Hungarian Literature Online provided a short biography (along with a list of works in English translation…many, if not all, out of print):

Born in Budapest in 1912, Örkény studied pharmaceutics and chemical engineering in the 30s, and published his first collection of short stories in 1941. One of these stories, published on the eve of Nazi terror, is about a city where the inmates of a lunatic asylum take power and introduce insane measures. Örkény soon found himself as if in the middle of his own story when the war broke out: when he was drafted, he reported to the army in his officer’s uniform, but had to take it off immediately: though a Catholic by religion, he was of Jewish origin, and was therefore sent to the front on labour service in 1942. He was taken prisoner of war in 1943. When he came home in 1946, he wrote a book on his experiences as POW in Soviet Russia. However, in postwar Hungary, which was drifting towards Communism, this was not considered a favoured topic, and Örkény, who initially sympathized with Communism, started to write bad novels which fitted the current ideology. He soon became a leading ‘socialist realist’ writer, but eventually became disillusioned with Communism, and after the 1956 Revolution, with which he was affiliated, he was squeezed out of the literary scene and subjected to publication bans. That was when he started to write his one minute stories. In the second half of the 1960s, his books were published again and his plays were performed. In fact, he became one of the most successful playwrights of his era who opened new paths for Hungarian drama with his absurdist plays. His dramas are determined by the sense of being Eastern European and Hungarian which—as he stated—equals to living with a constant feeling of lack. He died in 1979.

One Minute Stories comes with “handling instructions,” an introduction of sorts by Örkény to these types of stories. In his own words:

Despite their brevity, the stories in this book have a certain amount of literary merit. They also have the added advantage of saving us time, since they do not require our attention for weeks on end. While the soft-boiled egg is boiling or the number you are dialing answers (provided it is not engaged, of course) you have ample time to read one of these short stories which, because of their brevity, I have come to think of as one minute stories. You can read them whatever your mood, whether you are sitting down or standing up, in fine weather or foul. They make good reading even on a crowded bus. Most can even be enjoyed on a walk.

Do pay attention to the titles, though. The author strove for brevity, which put a special burden of responsibility on him when choosing the titles for his stories, of which they form an organic part.

Do not stop at the titles, though! First the title, then the story. It's is the only proper manner of handling.

Attention! If something is not clear to you, reread the story is question. If it is still not clear to you, dump the story, the fault lies with the author. There are no dim-witted readers, only badly written one-minute stories.

(Note: there are minor differences between this translation and the one in the book.)

Many of the stories really can be read in one minute while some stretch out to a few pages (or minutes). The first story titled “the grotesque (a practical approach)” sets the tone for the rest of the stories. There’s nothing new in the tale—the author instructs you to bend forward and look at the world from between your legs. The skewing of everything, watching things move in a different direction from what you're used to seeing, turns out to be perfect instructions on what to expect in the anecdotes that follow. Events are shown in a different light. Things are absurd because they don't describe things the way we normally see them, but it doesn't mean things can't happen that way.

Some of the commentary regarding the influence of the USSR on Hungarian life is obvious no matter how subtle it is. The footnotes, fortunately, help highlight the nature of the barbs (although they can be as subtle as Örkény’s allusions). By the time you get to the final stories, though, the political commentary is razor sharp despite their subtlety. Conditions that Hungary had to put up with while living under the Soviet shadow comes through loud and clear despite the sly nature of the references or settings. Taken out of context, or rather outside of this collection, these stories might seem rather obtuse or enigmatic. Taken as a whole, and I’m using the term loosely since these stories reflect only a sampling of his output in this genre, he provides a biting commentary on how skewed you have to be to swallow the official party line.

Some stories stand on their own quite well without worrying about political over- or under-tones, but the most effective deal with the world under the Soviet influence. Fortunately there happens to be quite a few of his stories available online. I’m going to provide a list of some of the links that drew me in to sample Örkény’s work, and I’ll mention again that I will post more on his work in the next few months.

On Örkény:
   - Örkény’s “homepage”, developed after an agreement between the Örkény Family and the National Széchényi Library. Highly recommended. The site has many links worth investigating that I won’t include here.
   - His Wikipedia entry
   - Hungarian Literature Online notes his centenary birthday. It includes a list of his works in English translation and a link to one of his plays with English subtitles.

On One Minute Stories and similar anecdotes not included (or compiled elsewhere):
   - Coverage at the complete review
   - Several examples of his style at Hungarian Literature Online. Not all of these are in One Minute Stories.
   - A video from the Budapest File Academy: in our time. A condensed version of one of the One Minute Stories.
   - “the cherry pit,” included in One Minute Stories
   - Excerpts from More One Minute Stories at Hungarian Literature Online

At Örkény’s homepage:
   Excerpts from One Minute Stories:
       - handling instructions
       - the grotesque (a practical approach)
       - in memoriam dr. H.G.K.
       - a number of variations on the theme of self-realization
       - one minute biography

   Excerpts from More One Minute Stories:
       - a bright and distant future
       - tulip in crisis
       - thoughts from the cellar
       - honeymooners on flypaper
       - ballad about the magic of poetry

Related:
   - Hungarian Literature Online’s article on Örkény’s play Voronezh

Update (17 May 2013): Another YouTube video can be found here. The description by Szilárd Szarvas:

A one minute short film about a one minute short story by István Örkény - About my well-being (Hogylétemről) [I'm guessing the title in my translation is "Inquiry into the state of my health"]. I asked a man on the street to read the short story 'About my well-being', and to tell me how he feels about it. This video was made for a contest for the 100th jubilee of Örkény's birthday.