Siege 13: Stories
Tamas Dobozy
Language: English
Pages: 339
ISBN: 1571310975
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Observing the uses and mis-uses of history, and their effect on individuals and community, Dobozy examines the often blurry line between right and wrong, portraying a world in which one man’s betrayal is another man’s survival, and in which common citizens are caught between the pincers of aggressors, leading to actions at once deplorable, perplexing, and heroic. Dobozy's stories feature characters, "lost forever in the labyrinth built on the thin border between memories and reality, past and present, words and silence. Like Nabokov, Tamas Dobozy combines the best elements of European and American storytelling, creating a fictional world of his own." (David Albahari, author of Gotz and Meyer)
Székesfehérvár, someone guiltier than most, susceptible to blackmail, with the means necessary to help Zoltán hide away, then he turned to Ági. “If we’re going to get away, you’re going to have to help me.” She made no reply. He turned, putting his hands against their bedroom wall. “I’ve been waiting,” he said. “I thought there might be time, that if I was patient, the names would last longer than the Soviets. We could make this place mine, or ours, whatever.” He took his hands from the wall.
them they’d miss it way more than he would.” “Yes,” I said, quietly. “He’s probably right.” “Of course he’s right!” my father yelled. “Those idiots are all going to miss it. What do they think, Ílona’s going to come in and take over and make everyone happy like Holló does?” He snorted. “She’s called a general meeting,” he said. “You know she’s going to ask you to be there. And if you’re not able to prove what she’s been saying there’s going to be trouble.” “I know,” I said, my voice firm with
soldier would go first, since he was the heaviest and needed two men to lift him within reach of the first rung of the ladder. He would see whether there were snipers present, and draw their fire away from the manhole, hopefully without getting his head blown off. Next would come Teleki, whom the commander could boost up alone, and who’d then help, from above, with the delicate job of heaving up the injured soldier, as well as the voluminous Mrs. Hindy, and finally Hindy himself. The soldier
Frigyes had been seen around her place one night after Anikó—who was in love with Aurél—had announced she was a much better woman than “that whore Lujza,” and to prove it was challenging her to a year-long courting war over Aurél, with the winner being the one who got him to marry her. It was understood that Lujza was already the winner before the competition began, and that Frigyes sabotaged the car because he didn’t want to risk losing her in marriage to Aurél. I wonder if they didn’t
laughed. But this was a minor humiliation compared to what Aces went through. I remember one time we took Aces’ car to a wedding banquet in Whistler. Halfway there, along the Sea-to-Sky Highway, Jancsi roared out of the dark in his Mercedes and passed us on the inside. From there, the two of them—father and son—spent the next twenty minutes shifting lanes, veering between the mountain on one side and the sheer drop on the other, until Jancsi laughed and sped off between two semis travelling