The Actor's Death
The Actor's Death
This afternoon, in a side street off Üll?i, the popular actor Zoltán Zetelaki lost consciousness and collapsed.
Passersby took him to the nearest clinic, but even with the latest scientific knowledge could offer - including an iron lung - their attempts to save his life were in vain. The illustrious actor was in mortal agony for a long time before passing away at half past six this evening. His body has been interred at the Anatomical Institute.
Despite the tragic event this evening's performance of King Lear went ahead uninterrupted. Zetelaki was a little late, and looked exceptionally tired in the first act (here and there visibly requiring the help of the prompt), but thereafter gradually found himself, and the death of the King was portrayed with such powerful conviction that he received effusive applause.
Afterwards he was invited to supper, but never went. Saying:
- It's been a hard day.
translation of A Színész Halála from Örkény István's One Minute Novellas (Egyperces Novellák) . The usual apologies apply.
Today is the 50th Anniversary of Nikita Khrushchev's speech denouncing Stalin.Nikita Khrushchev began the process of de-Stalinization 50 years ago, with a speech given at the 20th Communist Party Congress, held February 14-25, 1956.
The Great Athenian Frog Invasion?
I wasn't going to mention this, but since pestiside has brought to the fore the cultural differences in animal noises, I thought it was a good opportunity to ask for your help. I need your help, because for over 15 years I've known there was really something odd about the noise that Hungarian frogs make, and I have yet to find an explanation. The one explanation I did come to was that sometime in the past there must have been an unrecorded invasion of Athenian frogs into modern day Hungary. Rationally, I know that this invasion didn't happen, but how then did Hungarian frogs develop their unique 'croak'? Well, that's the point, because the noise that Hungarian frogs make isn't unique. Hungarian frogs don't 'ribbet' - oh no. They don't 'croak' either. Hungarian frogs 'brekk-brekk', 'brékekek' and 'brekekex'. Yes, that's right they 'brekekex'. Get it? No?! Tsh. Here goes then... Sometime before 405 B.C.E Athenian morale and self respect was in decline. Putting it blunty the people of Athens were depressed. So, naturally, to cheer themselves up they did what any nation would do - they organised a playwriting competition (the tax payers must have been delighted). So up steps Aristophanes and milking a good thing he had going on the theme of animals - The Wasps (422 B.C.E), The Birds (414 B.C.E) - he penned The Frogs (405 B.C.E), well 'Ranae'. Of course, 'The Frogs' beat the competition. One of the things that the judges partcularly liked was the use of a frog chorus (nothing to do with this). In particular, the frog chorus used the unique sound of Athenian frogs. Which was...? Yes, you got it 'Brekekekex' Unique? Every Hungarian child would recognise an Athenian frog's croak as if it was their very own home spawned variety. What child doesn't know Weöres Sándor's poem 'Békák' (Frogs), that begins:
Brekekex????????? You see, there are still learn-ed papers being written on how uniquely untranslatable this part of the play is:
Brekekex
Brekekex
dialectic of empty names.. an extension to all the linguistic contextualism of the Aristophanic "brekekek...".source'Linguistic contextualism' my segg. And so, my one explanation for how such uniquely Athenian sounding frogs came to Hungary is the historically unrecorded invasion. Before the Romans took over from the celts, before Attila came looking for a new home, before the Turks threatened to overthrow Christendom or Big Brother arrived to destroy the culture of a generation, long long before all of that they made their attack. Successful they lay (squatted) there croaking away contentedly on their lillypads - unnoticed, undetected. Well, undetected until I turned up pale faced and blinking into the Hungarian midsummer sun. The only lead I have on solving this problem is given here:
[In his edition of the work] (Oxford 1993), 219, K. J. Dover provides information on the likely species. sourceSo, if any of you have that edition (what a bargain at only $55!) I would be grateful to know what conclusions Mr. Dover comes to and what if any link there is to Hungarian frogs. And while we're at it, the other thing you can solve for me is how did the buttercup get the Latin name ranunculus? Surely that translates as 'small frog'. Is there some way of detecting someone's preference for butter by holding a young frog under their chin? Or is the ranunculus similar to human's homunculus, the origin and explanation for a frog's sense of consciousness? I can see your eyes clouding over...
Bureaucracy
Well, everything here is really different from just a few years ago and markedly different from 10 years ago.
However, if ever I feel a teeny bit nostalgic I visit a bank. There you can really get a good feeling for what it was like. All the banks here are doing fantastically - profits wise. Buoyed by the BUX (hungarian stock exchange index) rises of last year (ignoring what's been happening since the March Holiday) and various aquisitions of neighbouring countries' banks (particularly for OTP). Yet, there is still at the heart of the banking system here a monolithic emotionless, dehumanizing, soul sucking monster.
I have wasted too many hours, too much of my life, waiting for my number to ping into existence on their inane electronic queueing systems. They just haven't got a clue about Customer Relationship Management. The people in the banks are fine. If anything they seem to suffer more than the customers. They are lost and trapped within this system day after day. I applaud their fortitude.
Anyway, I've had one too many afternoons wasted by my own bank, so here's a translation of one of Örkény István's short stories from the book 'One minute novels'. I often think of Örkény's stories when I have to face any bureaucracy, it really helps me to get by:
Information For 11 years he sat in the foyer entrance, behind a small window. In total, only two questions were ever asked of him: - Which way is it to the Montex Office? To which, he would answer: - The 1st Floor, on the left. The second question went: - Where can I find the Buddings Waste Processors? This had him reply: - Second floor, second door on the right. Not once in 11 years had there been a misunderstanding, everyone received the appropriate guidance. But once it happened that a woman approached the window and asked the familiar question of the first kind: - Excuse me please, which way is it to the Montex Office? To this, unusually, he stared into the distance and responded: - We all came from nothing, and we shall return into a big stinking nothing. Well, the woman protested. The complaint was examined, but later dropped. I mean really, it's no big thing. - Örkény István (trans of 'Információ³' from 'Egy perces novellák')
