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The Writing on the Wall: The Transylvania Trilogy #2-3
They Were Found Wanting - They Were Divided
The tale of the two Transylvanian cousins, their loves, and their very different fortunes continues in this second volume of the Transylvanian trilogy. Balint Abady is forced to part from the beautiful and unhappily married Adrienne Uzdy, while Lazlo Gyeroffy is rapidly heading for self-destruction through excessive drinking and his own fecklessness. Politicians, quarreling among themselves and stubbornly ignoring their countrymen's real needs, are still pursuing their vendetta with the Habsburg rule of Hungary from Vienna.
Meanwhile, they fail to notice how the Great Powers - through such events as Austria's annexation of Bosnia-Herzegovina in 1908 - are moving ever closer to the conflagration of 1914-1918 that will destroy their world forever. Contrasting a life of privilege and corruption with the lives and problems of an expatriate Romanian peasant minority whom Balint tries to help, this portrait is an unrivalled evocation of a rich and fascinating aristocratic world oblivious of its impending demise.
The celebrated Transylvanian Trilogy by Count Miklos Banffy is a stunning historical epic set in the lost world of the Hungarian aristocracy just before World War I. Written in the 1930s and first discovered by the English-speaking world after the fall of communism in Hungary, Banffy's novels were translated in the late 1990s to critical acclaim and appear here for the first time in hardcover. Set amid magnificent scenery of wild forests, snowcapped mountains, and ancient castles, the Transylvanian Trilogy combines a Proustian nostalgia for a lost world, insight into a collapsing empire reminiscent of the work of Joseph Roth, and the drama and epic sweep of Tolstoy.
Meanwhile, they fail to notice how the Great Powers - through such events as Austria's annexation of Bosnia-Herzegovina in 1908 - are moving ever closer to the conflagration of 1914-1918 that will destroy their world forever. Contrasting a life of privilege and corruption with the lives and problems of an expatriate Romanian peasant minority whom Balint tries to help, this portrait is an unrivalled evocation of a rich and fascinating aristocratic world oblivious of its impending demise.
The celebrated Transylvanian Trilogy by Count Miklos Banffy is a stunning historical epic set in the lost world of the Hungarian aristocracy just before World War I. Written in the 1930s and first discovered by the English-speaking world after the fall of communism in Hungary, Banffy's novels were translated in the late 1990s to critical acclaim and appear here for the first time in hardcover. Set amid magnificent scenery of wild forests, snowcapped mountains, and ancient castles, the Transylvanian Trilogy combines a Proustian nostalgia for a lost world, insight into a collapsing empire reminiscent of the work of Joseph Roth, and the drama and epic sweep of Tolstoy.
830 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1940
About the author
Miklós Bánffy
22 books61 followersCount Miklós Bánffy de Losoncz was a Hungarian nobleman, politician, and novelist. His books include The Transylvanian Trilogy (They Were Counted, They Were Found Wanting and They Were Divided), and The Phoenix Land.
The Bánffy family emerged in 15th century Transylvania and established itself among the foremost dynasties of the country. They owned a grand palace in Kolozsvár (Romanian: Cluj-Napoca, German: Klausenburg), one of the main cities of Transylvania and one of the province's largest castles at Bonchida. One branch was raised to a barony in the 1660s, while another became counts in 1855. The barons produced a 19th-century prime minister of Hungary (Dezső Bánffy), and the counts held important offices at court. Among the latter was Count Miklós, born in Kolozsvár on December 30, 1873.
Beginning his political career at the time when Hungary was a constituent of Austria-Hungary, Bánffy was elected a Member of Parliament in 1901 and became Director of the Hungarian State Theatres (1913–1918). Both a traditionalist and a member of the avant-garde, he wrote five plays, two books of short stories, and a distinguished novel. Overcoming fierce opposition, his intervention made it possible for Béla Bartók's works to have their first performance in Budapest.
Bánffy became Foreign Minister of Hungary in his cousin Count István Bethlen's government of 1921. Although he detested the politics of the Regent, Admiral Miklós Horthy, he worked to review the boundary revisions confirmed by the Treaty of Trianon after World War I through which Transylvania had been transferred to Romania. Little progress was made, and he retired from office.
His trilogy, A Transylvanian Tale, also called The Writing on the Wall, was published between 1934 and 1940. Bánffy portrayed pre-war Hungary as a nation in decline, failed by a shortsighted aristocracy.
In April 1943, Bánffy visited Bucharest to persuade Ion Antonescu's Romania together with Hungary to abandon the Axis and sue for a separate peace with the Allies (see also Romania during World War II). The negotiations with a delegation led by Gheorghe Mironescu broke down almost instantaneously, as the two sides could not agree on a future status for Northern Transylvania (which Romania had ceded to Hungary in 1940, and where Bonchida was located). Two years later, in revenge for Bánffy's actions in Bucharest, his estate at Bonchida was burned and looted by the retreating German army.
Hungary and Transylvania were soon invaded by the Soviet Union's Red Army, an event which marked an uncertain status for Northern Transylvania until its return to Romania. His wife and daughter fled to Budapest while Bánffy remained on the spot in a vain attempt to prevent the destruction of his property. Soon after, the frontier was closed. The family remained separated until 1949, when he was allowed by Romanian communist authorities to leave for Budapest, where he died the following year.
A mellowing communist regime in Hungary permitted the reissue of A Transylvanian Tale in 1982, and it was translated into English for the first time in 1999. The Castle of Bonchida is now being restored as a cultural center. An apartment is being prepared for the use of the Count's family.
The Bánffy family emerged in 15th century Transylvania and established itself among the foremost dynasties of the country. They owned a grand palace in Kolozsvár (Romanian: Cluj-Napoca, German: Klausenburg), one of the main cities of Transylvania and one of the province's largest castles at Bonchida. One branch was raised to a barony in the 1660s, while another became counts in 1855. The barons produced a 19th-century prime minister of Hungary (Dezső Bánffy), and the counts held important offices at court. Among the latter was Count Miklós, born in Kolozsvár on December 30, 1873.
Beginning his political career at the time when Hungary was a constituent of Austria-Hungary, Bánffy was elected a Member of Parliament in 1901 and became Director of the Hungarian State Theatres (1913–1918). Both a traditionalist and a member of the avant-garde, he wrote five plays, two books of short stories, and a distinguished novel. Overcoming fierce opposition, his intervention made it possible for Béla Bartók's works to have their first performance in Budapest.
Bánffy became Foreign Minister of Hungary in his cousin Count István Bethlen's government of 1921. Although he detested the politics of the Regent, Admiral Miklós Horthy, he worked to review the boundary revisions confirmed by the Treaty of Trianon after World War I through which Transylvania had been transferred to Romania. Little progress was made, and he retired from office.
His trilogy, A Transylvanian Tale, also called The Writing on the Wall, was published between 1934 and 1940. Bánffy portrayed pre-war Hungary as a nation in decline, failed by a shortsighted aristocracy.
In April 1943, Bánffy visited Bucharest to persuade Ion Antonescu's Romania together with Hungary to abandon the Axis and sue for a separate peace with the Allies (see also Romania during World War II). The negotiations with a delegation led by Gheorghe Mironescu broke down almost instantaneously, as the two sides could not agree on a future status for Northern Transylvania (which Romania had ceded to Hungary in 1940, and where Bonchida was located). Two years later, in revenge for Bánffy's actions in Bucharest, his estate at Bonchida was burned and looted by the retreating German army.
Hungary and Transylvania were soon invaded by the Soviet Union's Red Army, an event which marked an uncertain status for Northern Transylvania until its return to Romania. His wife and daughter fled to Budapest while Bánffy remained on the spot in a vain attempt to prevent the destruction of his property. Soon after, the frontier was closed. The family remained separated until 1949, when he was allowed by Romanian communist authorities to leave for Budapest, where he died the following year.
A mellowing communist regime in Hungary permitted the reissue of A Transylvanian Tale in 1982, and it was translated into English for the first time in 1999. The Castle of Bonchida is now being restored as a cultural center. An apartment is being prepared for the use of the Count's family.
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
April 19, 2020
This volume contains They Were Found Wanting and They Were Divided which together complete MiKlos Banffy’s Transylvanian Trilogy. These two books are a solid four star read of historical fiction/romance, but the flashes of brilliant writing lifting them to 5. Book II, They Were Found Wanting picks up where Book I ends and it will be hard to read these other than in order.
I would also caution that a reader makes a point of reading and thinking about the story of Belshazzar's Feast. The books are named from the Writing on the Wall and Banff applies the Bible story in a very deliberate way.
More so than in Book I these two books will narrow their focus on the two titled cousins, Count Balint Abady and Count Laszlo Gyerőffy. The former a well-meaning liberal politician and the later a could have been great musician now slowly seeking hisown destructions. Were I choosing these books to write a college paper I would demonstrate that between them they symbolize almost any aristocracy in almost any effete civilization. It is in either of them to contribute great things, but they are never quite focused on the right things. Each is proud of titles and positions neither had done anything to earn and each was protective of their place and prerogatives as members of ancient families.
Abady, being earnest and sincerely well-meaning is actively trying to do good. He lack of appreciation for the details and for the existence of varied other interests make him subject to grand gestures. Many of these he will, if too late come to understand as not completely thought out and therefor to little or no purpose. He has near blindness about the ways the peasantry and how they can place their agendas in front of his sincerely offered plans.
Laszlo we were told in book I is from a very old family, well on its way down. He has it in him to be an artist and musician. He has in him many elements of greatness. He is distracted by his pride and never adds to his community instead seeking to be the end of his line.
This is not just class warfare. Banffy allows us to see into many households and levels of society. Among them are the both noble and ignoble.
If we are active readers and not just bound to the information in the novels, we know that there are larger forces afoot.
More so and with increasing frequency Banffy hints at, then details some of what is not happening in the opulent ballroom and extensive private forests. Within the larger Austrian Empire, of which Transylvania is a part there are numerous national identities and conflicting loyalties. Near neighbors are seeking to do violence to each other. The smaller more or less independent nations around the edges of Austria have plans for heightening their spheres of interest. It very much matters to some people what is the langue of the Austrian Armies and from which state leadership is selected. Issues large and small come together. Some more demanding of attention than others.
AS these books progress we read more and more about politics. Almost of these passages are intrusive and where they are not boring, they do not emphasize the honor or probity of the professionals.
This is part of the point. Ignorance of politics is a choice. Until it is not. Leaving politics to those who are interested in politics is a logical decision. Until it is not. Engaging in politics, but only for those parts that serve your interests, or your needs can be done, but as with all decisions, this too will also exact a price.
So we are invited to enjoy the fashions, and the balls and the fine silver. There is passion and love affairs. Act of nobility and skullduggery. Lots of lovely entertainments. Towards the end there is a truly great chapter that will lead you across a very wide range of emotions. There are at least three chapters that are as finely written as any in literatures. And then there is that dull, who care politics.
I would also caution that a reader makes a point of reading and thinking about the story of Belshazzar's Feast. The books are named from the Writing on the Wall and Banff applies the Bible story in a very deliberate way.
More so than in Book I these two books will narrow their focus on the two titled cousins, Count Balint Abady and Count Laszlo Gyerőffy. The former a well-meaning liberal politician and the later a could have been great musician now slowly seeking hisown destructions. Were I choosing these books to write a college paper I would demonstrate that between them they symbolize almost any aristocracy in almost any effete civilization. It is in either of them to contribute great things, but they are never quite focused on the right things. Each is proud of titles and positions neither had done anything to earn and each was protective of their place and prerogatives as members of ancient families.
Abady, being earnest and sincerely well-meaning is actively trying to do good. He lack of appreciation for the details and for the existence of varied other interests make him subject to grand gestures. Many of these he will, if too late come to understand as not completely thought out and therefor to little or no purpose. He has near blindness about the ways the peasantry and how they can place their agendas in front of his sincerely offered plans.
Laszlo we were told in book I is from a very old family, well on its way down. He has it in him to be an artist and musician. He has in him many elements of greatness. He is distracted by his pride and never adds to his community instead seeking to be the end of his line.
This is not just class warfare. Banffy allows us to see into many households and levels of society. Among them are the both noble and ignoble.
If we are active readers and not just bound to the information in the novels, we know that there are larger forces afoot.
More so and with increasing frequency Banffy hints at, then details some of what is not happening in the opulent ballroom and extensive private forests. Within the larger Austrian Empire, of which Transylvania is a part there are numerous national identities and conflicting loyalties. Near neighbors are seeking to do violence to each other. The smaller more or less independent nations around the edges of Austria have plans for heightening their spheres of interest. It very much matters to some people what is the langue of the Austrian Armies and from which state leadership is selected. Issues large and small come together. Some more demanding of attention than others.
AS these books progress we read more and more about politics. Almost of these passages are intrusive and where they are not boring, they do not emphasize the honor or probity of the professionals.
This is part of the point. Ignorance of politics is a choice. Until it is not. Leaving politics to those who are interested in politics is a logical decision. Until it is not. Engaging in politics, but only for those parts that serve your interests, or your needs can be done, but as with all decisions, this too will also exact a price.
So we are invited to enjoy the fashions, and the balls and the fine silver. There is passion and love affairs. Act of nobility and skullduggery. Lots of lovely entertainments. Towards the end there is a truly great chapter that will lead you across a very wide range of emotions. There are at least three chapters that are as finely written as any in literatures. And then there is that dull, who care politics.
July 19, 2017
The trilogy's three volumes are divided into two hardcover editions. This one contains the last two volumes. I am a sucker for a national epic. In this case, the geographical and ethnic focus don't align with current maps, which have the Transylvania region in Romania. During the period of these novels, Transylvania is Hungarian--occupied and ruled by Hungarians as a distinct cultural region of Hungary, which itself was part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, ruled by an Austrian king. The Romanians in Transylvania are mostly (relatively) recent immigrants, suffering from the usual problems of minorities seeking a dignified place among those of a privileged and chauvinistic social order. The Balkans are roiling, Russia is on the brink of revolution, the other European powers are jockeying for position, the Austrian Franz Joseph is struggling to contain the intrigues of his heir, Franz Ferdinand, and break the legislative logjam of the Hungarian parliament. The hero, based on Banffy himself, possesses an awareness of the outside world and the increasing danger to Hungary--yet he is almost alone with his anxiety, because the old, complaisant Hungarian order does not believe in the outside world, spinning along in its ancient idyllic cycle of race days and balls and hunts. Domestic affairs--the moral degeneration of aristocrats, star-crossed love affairs, ambitious courtesans, madness, the warping power of mother love, and the role of noblesse oblige in maintaining justice and economic opportunity for the peasant class, all play out in this lovely snow globe, oblivious to its imminent end. In the aftermath of WWI, Transylvania was transferred to Romania and largely emptied of its Hungarian population. Banffy wrote during the interwar years, and this vast yet intimate novel is both a wistful attempt to capture a memory of a vanished world and a cautionary tale of isolationism and nationalistic hubris.
March 20, 2020
It took me several months to read this trilogy, published in two volumes (I am putting the same review on the other volume), and I feel grateful to Miklós Bánffy’s daughter, Katalin Bánffy-Jelen, and to Patrick Thursfield, for translating it from the Hungarian. The trilogy is widely regarded as a masterpiece ranking alongside the works of the great Russian authors.
The novels are set in Hungary in the period before World War One (Transylvania at that time was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire). The novels move through the privileged world of the Hungarian aristocracy, in the last years of the old order. This allows Bánffy to pay tribute to a world of which he himself was part and whose demise he witnessed. Despite this personal involvement, the descriptions of the Transylvanian aristocracy and the social elite of Budapest are not sentimental, but elucidate in accurate detail and witty observations the decay of this society; the decadence of those who inherited “noblesse oblige” but do not live by it, and the selfish preoccupations and short-sightedness that prevent them from realising and acting against the imminent collapse of their own privileged world and their country. Bánffy was a patriot whose career was in the arts and, like his protagonist Balint Abady, in the diplomatic service and in politics. He knows what he is writing about when he describes the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the descent into war. At school I had learned that the assassination of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand at Sarajevo by the Serbs led to war, but in this novel there is a lot of detail on the background to it, as well as on the intrigues and machinations of his supporters, particularly the head of the Foreign Office, Berchtold, and Conrad, Chief of the General Staff, who apparently falsified information so as to obtain the consent of the Emperor Franz Joseph to war. All this is from the Hungarian perspective, but illuminating and also very relevant to today’s politics. The descriptions of Hungary’s parliament and the behaviour of its members might come from the House of Commons, the only difference being that in Budapest, in order to drown out speakers with whom they disagreed, members not only hooted and jeered but also blew toy trumpets . . and toy trumpets might feature with us yet, as the American president enjoys blowing his own . . .
On a serious note, the rôle of Hungary within the Austro-Hungarian Empire seemed to me similar to that of Scotland today within the UK, including a narrowness of vision and an internal focus such as are demonstrated by Hungary, who was very much a second player in Vienna’s power games.
The human stories in this novel kept my attention. Even minor characters are portrayed in such lively detail that they emerge from the pages uplifted by love of country or radiant with love for another human being, or embittered, crushed by sorrow or imbecilic in drink. Balint and Adrienne’s love affair is drawn out through the three novels, and Bánffy is enough of a sophisticated novelist to bring this off; but it was Laszlo’s story that tore my heart, Laszlo who is not only a victim of the society that engendered him but also of his own character. Throughout the books, the descriptions of Transylvania were entrancing. I lingered over them, and wondered how they must read in the original.
After living in the company of Bánffy’s engrossing epic for several months I felt there was one book I had to re-read - Patrick Leigh Fermor’s trilogy, in which he walks to Constantinople, across the Great Plain of Hungary into Transylvania. The story goes on.
The novels are set in Hungary in the period before World War One (Transylvania at that time was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire). The novels move through the privileged world of the Hungarian aristocracy, in the last years of the old order. This allows Bánffy to pay tribute to a world of which he himself was part and whose demise he witnessed. Despite this personal involvement, the descriptions of the Transylvanian aristocracy and the social elite of Budapest are not sentimental, but elucidate in accurate detail and witty observations the decay of this society; the decadence of those who inherited “noblesse oblige” but do not live by it, and the selfish preoccupations and short-sightedness that prevent them from realising and acting against the imminent collapse of their own privileged world and their country. Bánffy was a patriot whose career was in the arts and, like his protagonist Balint Abady, in the diplomatic service and in politics. He knows what he is writing about when he describes the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the descent into war. At school I had learned that the assassination of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand at Sarajevo by the Serbs led to war, but in this novel there is a lot of detail on the background to it, as well as on the intrigues and machinations of his supporters, particularly the head of the Foreign Office, Berchtold, and Conrad, Chief of the General Staff, who apparently falsified information so as to obtain the consent of the Emperor Franz Joseph to war. All this is from the Hungarian perspective, but illuminating and also very relevant to today’s politics. The descriptions of Hungary’s parliament and the behaviour of its members might come from the House of Commons, the only difference being that in Budapest, in order to drown out speakers with whom they disagreed, members not only hooted and jeered but also blew toy trumpets . . and toy trumpets might feature with us yet, as the American president enjoys blowing his own . . .
On a serious note, the rôle of Hungary within the Austro-Hungarian Empire seemed to me similar to that of Scotland today within the UK, including a narrowness of vision and an internal focus such as are demonstrated by Hungary, who was very much a second player in Vienna’s power games.
The human stories in this novel kept my attention. Even minor characters are portrayed in such lively detail that they emerge from the pages uplifted by love of country or radiant with love for another human being, or embittered, crushed by sorrow or imbecilic in drink. Balint and Adrienne’s love affair is drawn out through the three novels, and Bánffy is enough of a sophisticated novelist to bring this off; but it was Laszlo’s story that tore my heart, Laszlo who is not only a victim of the society that engendered him but also of his own character. Throughout the books, the descriptions of Transylvania were entrancing. I lingered over them, and wondered how they must read in the original.
After living in the company of Bánffy’s engrossing epic for several months I felt there was one book I had to re-read - Patrick Leigh Fermor’s trilogy, in which he walks to Constantinople, across the Great Plain of Hungary into Transylvania. The story goes on.
May 3, 2018
This book is madness. Madness, in the very best way.
Some reviewers have called Miklós Bánffy Hungary’s Tolstoy, and there’s really no other way to put it. Together with Tolstoy, France’s Roger Martin du Gard, and Miklós Banffy are the only authors I have read that manage to paint a sweeping, detailed picture of upper-class life at the turn of the century (or a little earlier, in Tolstoy’s case) in a highly evocative way.
But let’s stick with Bánffy for a second, and with this whole entire beautiful Transylvanian Trilogy. Last year, I read the Dutch translation of part I (They Were Counted, translated as Geteld, geteld) and was mesmerized. I loved it so much that I stalked the publishing house’s website for a while, checking to see if the next books in the trilogy would be released soon.
Seeing as they weren’t (at least not any time soon, as far as I could tell), I set my sights on the English translations. I received this book, which contains parts I and II (They Were Found Wanting and They Were Divided) for my birthday in February, and I have been steadily working my way through it since. And God, has it been worth the ride.
I don’t even know where to start with this book. I love it so, so much. Just like the first installments, these two books continue the story of the tragic love affair between protagonist Bálint Abády and Adrienne Milóth. While this plot is at the very heart of the trilogy, the novels really consist of an ensemble cast of characters, with many storylines weaving in and out of each other. This is also what makes them so beautiful and overpowering: you really get a sense of an entire stratum of society between 1906-1914 (approximately). By getting to know all these people intimately, it is as if you have literally lived it, even more so because Bánffy masterfully maneuvers from one storyline to the next and back again. When all the characters from these storylines come together, say at a party or a funeral, it is as if you are meeting everyone in your community, because you know what motivates all of them. It is captivating.
It also makes it really hard to summarize or describe the plot. Since every attempt will inevitably fall short (even the Goodreads description really doesn’t do it justice) I won’t even try. Suffice it to say that this is one magnificent novel, and that the events and characters are all so fully alive.
One word of caution: the plot is interspersed with several lengthy elaborations on Hungarian (and, by extension) European politics. While these were not exactly the most riveting sections of the book, and I admit I speed-read several of them as they sounded like eye-witness reports of detailed political proceedings, they provide depth and fuel the turmoil undergirding the fictional plot lines. For while these characters have to deal with their own personal concerns (bankruptcy, alcoholism, sick children, you name it) tensions are brewing in Europe, especially on the Balkan. And these tensions, as we all know, eventually led to the eruption of World War I. The trilogy’s ending, which I won’t spoil, starts with the war, and it is breathtaking.
Finally, as always, I have to comment on Bánffy’s beautiful writing, so skillfully translated by his daughter (!) Katalin Bánffy-Jelen and Patrick Thursfield. Let me just end with some passages that I loved:
“Bálint’s eyes filled with tears. For a long time he stayed where he was, sitting on the little bench and staring at the snow. He thought how marvelous it was as it slowly melted, disintegrating into tiny particles of ice, thousands of minute crystals gleaming like miniature mountain peaks all turned towards the rays of the sun. It was everywhere pitted with deep little crevasses like spear-thrusts from the direction of the south, deep little holes formed by the sun’s heat. And as it was slowly being destroyed by that very sun so the snow resembled white foam inexorably drawn to that relentless implacable light, to that radiance it so much desired but which was to be the source of its own destruction. To Bálint the process was like an allegory for all existence…” (645-646).
Or this part, when Bálint meets the young Regina:
“The kerchief fell from her head and her long Titian hair fluttered in the slight breeze. Sitting on the bench she was like a statue with her firm breasts straining the thin cloth of her blouse. She was very beautiful, a rose of Sharon not yet fully open but no longer a bud” (781).
Or when Bálint is camping in the forests, waiting for Adrienne:
“The distant horizons could still just be made out, especially where it seemed that some tiny reddish star could be glimpsed trembling though the tips of the sharp fang-like pines that covered the mountain ridges in front of him. Occasionally, and very far away, a dog could be heard barking in the valleys below. Then silence, only silence, but it was not the silence of an empty room, solitary and deadly; rather was it a living silence, a silence that pulsated with the life of the great forests.”
But also funny passages, such as this one, when an argument breaks out in the middle of an important party, and everyone notices but tries to ignore it because such a situation is not respectable dinner party behavior:
“The quarrel got noisier and noisier and Laji Pongracz, who was not far away, heard it and promptly switched to an even louder csardas in an attempt to cover up what was happening.”
These passages, and others like it, I read and re-read so as to prolong their effect, so that I might live this novel forever. I will most definitely revisit it someday.
Some reviewers have called Miklós Bánffy Hungary’s Tolstoy, and there’s really no other way to put it. Together with Tolstoy, France’s Roger Martin du Gard, and Miklós Banffy are the only authors I have read that manage to paint a sweeping, detailed picture of upper-class life at the turn of the century (or a little earlier, in Tolstoy’s case) in a highly evocative way.
But let’s stick with Bánffy for a second, and with this whole entire beautiful Transylvanian Trilogy. Last year, I read the Dutch translation of part I (They Were Counted, translated as Geteld, geteld) and was mesmerized. I loved it so much that I stalked the publishing house’s website for a while, checking to see if the next books in the trilogy would be released soon.
Seeing as they weren’t (at least not any time soon, as far as I could tell), I set my sights on the English translations. I received this book, which contains parts I and II (They Were Found Wanting and They Were Divided) for my birthday in February, and I have been steadily working my way through it since. And God, has it been worth the ride.
I don’t even know where to start with this book. I love it so, so much. Just like the first installments, these two books continue the story of the tragic love affair between protagonist Bálint Abády and Adrienne Milóth. While this plot is at the very heart of the trilogy, the novels really consist of an ensemble cast of characters, with many storylines weaving in and out of each other. This is also what makes them so beautiful and overpowering: you really get a sense of an entire stratum of society between 1906-1914 (approximately). By getting to know all these people intimately, it is as if you have literally lived it, even more so because Bánffy masterfully maneuvers from one storyline to the next and back again. When all the characters from these storylines come together, say at a party or a funeral, it is as if you are meeting everyone in your community, because you know what motivates all of them. It is captivating.
It also makes it really hard to summarize or describe the plot. Since every attempt will inevitably fall short (even the Goodreads description really doesn’t do it justice) I won’t even try. Suffice it to say that this is one magnificent novel, and that the events and characters are all so fully alive.
One word of caution: the plot is interspersed with several lengthy elaborations on Hungarian (and, by extension) European politics. While these were not exactly the most riveting sections of the book, and I admit I speed-read several of them as they sounded like eye-witness reports of detailed political proceedings, they provide depth and fuel the turmoil undergirding the fictional plot lines. For while these characters have to deal with their own personal concerns (bankruptcy, alcoholism, sick children, you name it) tensions are brewing in Europe, especially on the Balkan. And these tensions, as we all know, eventually led to the eruption of World War I. The trilogy’s ending, which I won’t spoil, starts with the war, and it is breathtaking.
Finally, as always, I have to comment on Bánffy’s beautiful writing, so skillfully translated by his daughter (!) Katalin Bánffy-Jelen and Patrick Thursfield. Let me just end with some passages that I loved:
“Bálint’s eyes filled with tears. For a long time he stayed where he was, sitting on the little bench and staring at the snow. He thought how marvelous it was as it slowly melted, disintegrating into tiny particles of ice, thousands of minute crystals gleaming like miniature mountain peaks all turned towards the rays of the sun. It was everywhere pitted with deep little crevasses like spear-thrusts from the direction of the south, deep little holes formed by the sun’s heat. And as it was slowly being destroyed by that very sun so the snow resembled white foam inexorably drawn to that relentless implacable light, to that radiance it so much desired but which was to be the source of its own destruction. To Bálint the process was like an allegory for all existence…” (645-646).
Or this part, when Bálint meets the young Regina:
“The kerchief fell from her head and her long Titian hair fluttered in the slight breeze. Sitting on the bench she was like a statue with her firm breasts straining the thin cloth of her blouse. She was very beautiful, a rose of Sharon not yet fully open but no longer a bud” (781).
Or when Bálint is camping in the forests, waiting for Adrienne:
“The distant horizons could still just be made out, especially where it seemed that some tiny reddish star could be glimpsed trembling though the tips of the sharp fang-like pines that covered the mountain ridges in front of him. Occasionally, and very far away, a dog could be heard barking in the valleys below. Then silence, only silence, but it was not the silence of an empty room, solitary and deadly; rather was it a living silence, a silence that pulsated with the life of the great forests.”
But also funny passages, such as this one, when an argument breaks out in the middle of an important party, and everyone notices but tries to ignore it because such a situation is not respectable dinner party behavior:
“The quarrel got noisier and noisier and Laji Pongracz, who was not far away, heard it and promptly switched to an even louder csardas in an attempt to cover up what was happening.”
These passages, and others like it, I read and re-read so as to prolong their effect, so that I might live this novel forever. I will most definitely revisit it someday.
Read
January 19, 2022I will include in this review all three volumes of The Transylvanian Trilogy (They Were Counted, They Were Found Wanting, and They Were Divided) simply because the novels are all of a piece and the latter two listed here shouldn't be considered without reference to the first. At a collective 1,442 pages, the works' epic scope and their intimate and detailed focus on lands that often escape the attention of many readers put me in mind of Halldor Laxness's Independent People and Sigrid Undset's Kristin Lavransdatter. Written by and from the narrative perspective of a member of that land's nobility, the trilogy bears resemblance to Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa's The Leopard. That is some damned fine company, and Miklos Banffy earns his place among those critically acclaimed authors.
The three books contain two expansive and richly detailed stories. The primary story is personal in nature and involves the life of its narrator, Count Balint Abady, a Transylvanian nobleman and politician, and the intersecting lives of myriad lovers, family members, friends, aristocrats, gypsies, workers of the land, gamblers, swindlers, and many more, a veritable potpourri of humanity. The central focus of the story is the narrator's relationship with Adrienne Miloth, which blossoms from childhood friendship into an illicit romance while she is married to another nobleman, Pal Uzdy, who is abusive and threatening to the point that others fear he has homicidal tendencies. The time frame of the novels spans the late 1800's to the cusp of World War I, which sets these relationships within the framework of marriages for convenience, money, social standing, power, and all the other trappings of the transition period from monarchies to republics. These include affairs of honor and attendant duels, elaborate assignations, whisper campaigns, suitors who wish to marry up, and families who don't wish their children to marry downwards. Oh, and scandals real and imagined. There is drama and romance in abundance, enough tragedy to keep the storylines honest and grounded, and a sprinkling of ironic humor. The scenes and chapters involving the personal story are engaging and propel the reader through the three works.
The second grand narrative is that of Transylvania as a land and people within the context of its place as a part of Hungary, as well as Hungary's place within the Austro-Hungarian empire, and their respective political pecking orders vis-a-vis European and other world powers. There is a lot of political discussion involved in this story, at times confusing and tedious but also interesting in its fleshing out of factional tensions leading up to World War I and the petty power struggles that prevent career politicians from seeing beyond their own interests to recognize larger threats to their people. This includes a lot of hopelessly familiar grandstanding, demagoguery, obstructionism, and talking past and around issues critical to the people they represent. While necessary to the novels as a whole, these passages involve characters who, frankly, have few if any redeeming values, and therefore make for slower and more difficult reading. Banffy's astuteness and bald honesty about the failures of his country's purported leaders make this a sobering but remarkable read.
The author engages personal and political lives in great turmoil, and since it appears that much of his work was written from personal experience, the trilogy does not follow the standard storytelling model of conflict, action, and resolution. Like life, not all narrative threads are tied neatly at the end of this work, which may be a disappointment to some, but I found it deeply satisfying, even though I ended up wishing better for the narrator.
I wished better for the author, too, knowing that he wrote his works about events leading to the cataclysm of World War I, that They Were Counted was published in 1934, and that he finished the trilogy in early 1940, as his country again approached another global conflict, one in which the action and resolution were yet to be written.
The three books contain two expansive and richly detailed stories. The primary story is personal in nature and involves the life of its narrator, Count Balint Abady, a Transylvanian nobleman and politician, and the intersecting lives of myriad lovers, family members, friends, aristocrats, gypsies, workers of the land, gamblers, swindlers, and many more, a veritable potpourri of humanity. The central focus of the story is the narrator's relationship with Adrienne Miloth, which blossoms from childhood friendship into an illicit romance while she is married to another nobleman, Pal Uzdy, who is abusive and threatening to the point that others fear he has homicidal tendencies. The time frame of the novels spans the late 1800's to the cusp of World War I, which sets these relationships within the framework of marriages for convenience, money, social standing, power, and all the other trappings of the transition period from monarchies to republics. These include affairs of honor and attendant duels, elaborate assignations, whisper campaigns, suitors who wish to marry up, and families who don't wish their children to marry downwards. Oh, and scandals real and imagined. There is drama and romance in abundance, enough tragedy to keep the storylines honest and grounded, and a sprinkling of ironic humor. The scenes and chapters involving the personal story are engaging and propel the reader through the three works.
The second grand narrative is that of Transylvania as a land and people within the context of its place as a part of Hungary, as well as Hungary's place within the Austro-Hungarian empire, and their respective political pecking orders vis-a-vis European and other world powers. There is a lot of political discussion involved in this story, at times confusing and tedious but also interesting in its fleshing out of factional tensions leading up to World War I and the petty power struggles that prevent career politicians from seeing beyond their own interests to recognize larger threats to their people. This includes a lot of hopelessly familiar grandstanding, demagoguery, obstructionism, and talking past and around issues critical to the people they represent. While necessary to the novels as a whole, these passages involve characters who, frankly, have few if any redeeming values, and therefore make for slower and more difficult reading. Banffy's astuteness and bald honesty about the failures of his country's purported leaders make this a sobering but remarkable read.
The author engages personal and political lives in great turmoil, and since it appears that much of his work was written from personal experience, the trilogy does not follow the standard storytelling model of conflict, action, and resolution. Like life, not all narrative threads are tied neatly at the end of this work, which may be a disappointment to some, but I found it deeply satisfying, even though I ended up wishing better for the narrator.
I wished better for the author, too, knowing that he wrote his works about events leading to the cataclysm of World War I, that They Were Counted was published in 1934, and that he finished the trilogy in early 1940, as his country again approached another global conflict, one in which the action and resolution were yet to be written.
July 16, 2022
Hungarian-Transylvanian Tolstoy
This book was written by one of my best friend's grandfather. Some of the writing is so beautiful and lyric that it carries me away to a time and world that no longer exists. His description of the mountains and wildlife at captivating, as are his characters he describes. Parts are laugh out loud funny, others poignant and sad. I am constantly reminded of the political situation in America--how the Hungarian parliament is so at odds with itself that they don't see the warnings around them, as the threats for WWI begin to erupt. The in-fighting destroys the country and eventually their democracy. The author's family will have to flee their castle as the Soviets take control after WWII, and destroy everything Count Banffy has written about so lovingly in this collection. It can be a bit thick on the politics of the time and some of the names are hard to follow, but it is a vastly interesting as a historical novel, pre-WWI. Far better than any Downtown Abbey!
This book was written by one of my best friend's grandfather. Some of the writing is so beautiful and lyric that it carries me away to a time and world that no longer exists. His description of the mountains and wildlife at captivating, as are his characters he describes. Parts are laugh out loud funny, others poignant and sad. I am constantly reminded of the political situation in America--how the Hungarian parliament is so at odds with itself that they don't see the warnings around them, as the threats for WWI begin to erupt. The in-fighting destroys the country and eventually their democracy. The author's family will have to flee their castle as the Soviets take control after WWII, and destroy everything Count Banffy has written about so lovingly in this collection. It can be a bit thick on the politics of the time and some of the names are hard to follow, but it is a vastly interesting as a historical novel, pre-WWI. Far better than any Downtown Abbey!
December 19, 2022
All the poor Romanian peasant can grasp is that the very men who should be his protectors a against injustice are the same men who enforce the injustice. P48
It's not often that subsequent volumes can match the intensity and excellence of the first volume of a series (provided it is so). Perhaps this was written all of a piece and the divisions are arbitrary because the breathtaking pace never lagged and my only real complaint is that there is no Book Four and that suddenly it ended when obviously, it never ended.
Fate...distributed good and bad luck with indifference....Some people were destroyed without apparent reason while others, who might deserve it, had joy and success thrust on them. P111
It's not often that subsequent volumes can match the intensity and excellence of the first volume of a series (provided it is so). Perhaps this was written all of a piece and the divisions are arbitrary because the breathtaking pace never lagged and my only real complaint is that there is no Book Four and that suddenly it ended when obviously, it never ended.
Fate...distributed good and bad luck with indifference....Some people were destroyed without apparent reason while others, who might deserve it, had joy and success thrust on them. P111
September 17, 2019
Maiestuoasa a o simfonie. O capodopera de la primul la ultimul rind
Want to read
March 7, 2017I've decided to put this off for some weeks. It is not so much that I'm not enjoying Banffy, but rather that when my day to day life is slightly less jam-packed I'll get to sit back and enjoy the second and third volumes. Ideally I'll be bringing this with me for train-reading amidst my forthcoming voyage to the South.
October 2, 2017
Baffny's work is a masterpiece of Transylvanian litterature and it provides a first hand and intimate looks on costumes, mentality, society, politics and feelings in Hungary of that time. Unfortunately it is nearly inaccessible to those that don't possess a detailed knowledge of the country, its oligarchy and politics during Baffny's time: hundreds of people with same family names that are addressed sometimes by name, others by surname causing great confusion. Characters barely described in one chapter 'resurrect' 10 chapters later while the author omits providing useful hints to follow.
Baffny can write indeed but his book is ‘neither flesh nor fowl’: It could be a dynasty novel… but the tale flow is steadily interrupted by dry reports on political happenings (frequently minor and with poor background to understand), detailed descriptions of meetings, enmities between the parties and political games that are too boring for a novel reader.
It could be a dissertation on Transilvanian and Hungarian politics on the breach to the 1st WW but it lacks of the necessary background information for a 20th/21st century reader to understand and it would annoy ‘technical’ readers with fictive and romantic elements. This duality compromises the books integrity and the flow of the tale throughout the whole trilogy. I was about to give up after the first of these 3 books: only my belonging to the Karoly family and my proverbial endurance helped me appreciating the author, enjoying and finishing the books.
Baffny can write indeed but his book is ‘neither flesh nor fowl’: It could be a dynasty novel… but the tale flow is steadily interrupted by dry reports on political happenings (frequently minor and with poor background to understand), detailed descriptions of meetings, enmities between the parties and political games that are too boring for a novel reader.
It could be a dissertation on Transilvanian and Hungarian politics on the breach to the 1st WW but it lacks of the necessary background information for a 20th/21st century reader to understand and it would annoy ‘technical’ readers with fictive and romantic elements. This duality compromises the books integrity and the flow of the tale throughout the whole trilogy. I was about to give up after the first of these 3 books: only my belonging to the Karoly family and my proverbial endurance helped me appreciating the author, enjoying and finishing the books.
August 9, 2015
The Transylvanian Trilogy offers a beautiful portrait of aristocratic life in Hungary, but mostly the province of Tranylvania itself, over the decade preceding the First World War.
The story focuses on a romantic relationship that spans this time, while offering a full cast of supporting characters and stories that typify the people of the period. In some sense this is mostly a characterization of aristocrats, but with some involvement of more common folk, albeit very little of the peasant class. This I believe is important to consider in the context of its characterization of 'a portrait of time.'
The major motivation of the text is to, in part, illustrate the fatal errors of Hungarian nobles, and politicos, as they ride the wave of peace and luxury into oblivion (the war) and the end of their way of life. This aspect by itself adds a value to the book that, in my opinion, gives to it the 'Literature' in the fullest, most meaningful way. (I.e.: a contributing element to the Western canon, offering a subject or style substantial enough to define a genre, generation, movement, etc.)
The story focuses on a romantic relationship that spans this time, while offering a full cast of supporting characters and stories that typify the people of the period. In some sense this is mostly a characterization of aristocrats, but with some involvement of more common folk, albeit very little of the peasant class. This I believe is important to consider in the context of its characterization of 'a portrait of time.'
The major motivation of the text is to, in part, illustrate the fatal errors of Hungarian nobles, and politicos, as they ride the wave of peace and luxury into oblivion (the war) and the end of their way of life. This aspect by itself adds a value to the book that, in my opinion, gives to it the 'Literature' in the fullest, most meaningful way. (I.e.: a contributing element to the Western canon, offering a subject or style substantial enough to define a genre, generation, movement, etc.)
February 24, 2016
After setting the stage and putting all the pieces in place in the first volume, Bánffy takes the next two volumes to tear everything down – c’mon, it’s in the titles of books – in a way that is both captivating and heartbreaking. Bánffy does an amazing job of capturing the minutely personal and balancing it with a thorough overview of the political situation in Hungary in the decade leading up to World War I. This trilogy has every single thing I want from my books, I am so glad to have stumbled across it.
January 1, 2014
Really admirable writing, setting the build up to WW1 in context. Found the political stuff less engaging than the individual stories of Balint, Adrienne, Laszlo. Countryside life v memorably depicted. Well worth a read, although all three volumes weigh in at well over a thousand pages.
May 19, 2014
An epic tale, The Transylvanian Trilogy was a delight to read, even if it took me several months to finish the entire saga. If you like political intrigue, with a hearty helping of Harlequin-style romance, Miklos Banffy will not disappoint.
Read
June 25, 2013Review will appear in 30-90 days here and on my website at www.musingwithcrayolakym.com once original review is posted to City Book Review
November 17, 2013
Well worth a read especially if you are interested in Hungarian - Romanian - Austrian history.
July 12, 2014
One of the best trilogies I have ever read.
September 25, 2016
Excellent
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