Magda Szabó

A busy young writer struggling to cope with domestic chores, hires a housekeeper recommended by a friend. The housekeeper's reputation is one built on dependable efficiency, though she is something of an oddity. Stubborn, foul-mouthed and with a flagrant disregard for her employer's opinions she may even be crazy. She allows no-one to set foot inside her house; she masks herself with a veil and is equally guarded about her personal life. And yet Emerence is revered as much as she is feared. As the story progresses her energy and passion to help becomes clear, extinguishing any doubts arising out of her bizarre behaviour. A stylishly told tale which recounts a strange relationship built up over 20 years between a writer and her housekeeper. After an unpromising and caustic start benign feelings develop and ultimately the writer benefits from what becomes an inseparable relationship. Simultaneously we learn Emerence's tragic past which is revealed in snapshots throughout the book.

Abigail, the story of a headstrong teenager growing up during World War II, is the most beloved of Magda Szabó’s books in her native Hungary. Gina is the only child of a general, a widower who has long been happy to spoil his bright and willful daughter. Gina is devastated when the general tells her that he must go away on a mission and that he will be sending her to boarding school in the country. She is even more aghast at the grim religious institution to which she soon finds herself consigned. She fights with her fellow students, she rebels against her teachers, finds herself completely ostracized, and runs away. Caught and brought back, there is nothing for Gina to do except entrust her fate to the legendary Abigail, as the classical statue of a woman with an urn that stands on the school’s grounds has come to be called. If you’re in trouble, it’s said, leave a message with Abigail and help will be on the way. And for Gina, who is in much deeper trouble than she could possibly suspect, a life-changing adventure is only beginning. There is something of Jane Austen in this story of the deceptiveness of appearances; fans of J.K. Rowling are sure to enjoy Szabó’s picture of irreverent students, eccentric teachers, and boarding-school life. Above all, however, Abigail is a thrilling tale of suspense.

Like Magda Szabó’s internationally acclaimed novel The Door, Iza’s Ballad is a striking story of the relationship between two women, in this case a mother and a daughter. Ettie, the mother, is old and from an older world than the rapidly modernizing Communist Hungary of the years after World War II. From a poor family and without formal education, Ettie has devoted her life to the cause of her husband, Vince, a courageous magistrate who had been blacklisted for political reasons before the war. Iza, their daughter, is as brave and conscientious as her father: Active in the resistance against the Nazis, she is now a doctor and a force for progress. Iza lives and works in Budapest, and when Vince dies, she is quick to bring Ettie to the city to make sure her mother is close and can be cared for. She means to do everything right, and Ettie is eager to do everything to the satisfaction of the daughter she is so proud of. But good intentions aside, mother and daughter come from two different worlds and have different ideas of what it means to lead a good life. Though they struggle to accommodate each other, increasingly they misunderstand and hurt each other, and the distance between them widens into an abyss. . . .

Eszter Encsy, a now accomplished actress, finds herself thinking about her impoverished and frustrating childhood and path to accomplishment as she hears news of an old childhood acquaintance. She engages in a series of internal monologues, delving into the depths of the humiliation, isolation, poverty, social and emotional exclusion and despair she has experienced, desperately attempting to unearth and comprehend all of her experiences. At first she recalls them with a disturbing calmness and an indifferent detachment, outwardly remaining unperturbed and icy, but soon finds her manner of speaking and her demeanor slowly changing as it becomes more and more difficult for Eszter to choke down the intense feeling of hatred and resentment she has been allowing to quietly ferment for years. It is a composed, restrained feeling of hatred which is always with her, but breaks out on only a few occasions, and which now begins to contaminate her entire life like a deadly poison.

"Perdere la giovinezza è terribile, non per ciò che viene tolto, ma per qualcosa che viene dato. Non è la saggezza, né la serenità, né la lucidità, né la pace. È la consapevolezza che l'insieme si è dissolto", scrive Magda Szabó. Ed è questa lenta dissoluzione che racconta, incrociando i destini di tre famiglie di Budapest - i Biro, gli Held e gli Elekes - che, prima della guerra, abitano in case vicine in Via Katalin. Le ragazze Elekes, Iren e Blanka, ed Henriette Held sono follemente innamorate di Balint Biro, ma ognuna di loro sa che Balint è solo per Iren. Il paradiso in cui credono di vivere si trasforma in inferno quando gli Held vengono deportati e la loro figlia Henriette, inizialmente nascosta dai Biro, viene uccisa da un soldato. La tragedia è per i sopravvissuti il preambolo di una lunga deriva in cui sfilano tutti i demoni dell'Ungheria comunista del dopoguerra. Come affrontare la vita in tali tormenti?

È un rapporto molto conflittuale, fatto di continue rotture e difficili riconciliazioni, a legare la narratrice a Emerenc Szeredás, la donna che la aiuta nelle faccende domestiche. La padrona di casa, una scrittrice inadatta ad affrontare i problemi della vita quotidiana, fatica a capire il rigido moralismo di Emerenc, ne subisce le spesso indecifrabili decisioni, non sa cosa pensare dell'alone di mistero che ne circonda l'esistenza e soprattutto la casa, con quella porta che nessuno può varcare. In un crescendo di rivelazioni scopre che le scelte spesso bizzarre e crudeli, ma sempre assolutamente coerenti dell'anziana donna, affondano in un destino segnato dagli avvenimenti piú drammatici del Novecento. Pubblicato in Ungheria nel 1987, ma in qualche modo disperso negli anni della transizione politica, La porta è il romanzo che ha rivelato la piú grande scrittrice ungherese contemporanea.