Postcards of memory - from Debrecen (12)
In Sepia Colour
What a joy, on a summer morning, to be sitting on the terrace of Hotel Aranybika (Golden Bull) in Debrecen! Whereas Budapest..., well, it's not what it used to be: the Japan Café of Krúdy and his fellow writers has been turned into a bookshop; the nearby coffee-shops of Andrássy road are stuffed with loud, neo-rich businessmen. However, taking your time in Aranybika's café you can still watch the people of a good old country-town passing by. You are able to immerse yourself in a Hungarian atmosphere yet unspoilt! So different from our cunning and sophisticated metropolis, Tokyo!
This is what I was told by an acquaintance of mine, a kind-hearted Japanese lady. Around the same time I was reading dark stories by the famous contemporary Debrecen writer, Tar Sándor. Stories of homeless alcoholics, crippled people trapped in sin and hopelessness, people who seem to be wriggling in an accursed town, far away. So far away that I could hardly manage to fit them into the Debrecen of my memories.
There you are! A tactful foreigner, protected by the shell of her innocence; and a person thinking about his hometown after two long decades of absence, protected by distance which would seduce him into painting sentimental, sepia-coloured images.
Dear reader, our twelve-part series has ended here. If you have a chance, please visit Debrecen. When you're there, you might feel like writing a postcard to somebody.
What a joy, on a summer morning, to be sitting on the terrace of Hotel Aranybika (Golden Bull) in Debrecen! Whereas Budapest..., well, it's not what it used to be: the Japan Café of Krúdy and his fellow writers has been turned into a bookshop; the nearby coffee-shops of Andrássy road are stuffed with loud, neo-rich businessmen. However, taking your time in Aranybika's café you can still watch the people of a good old country-town passing by. You are able to immerse yourself in a Hungarian atmosphere yet unspoilt! So different from our cunning and sophisticated metropolis, Tokyo!
This is what I was told by an acquaintance of mine, a kind-hearted Japanese lady. Around the same time I was reading dark stories by the famous contemporary Debrecen writer, Tar Sándor. Stories of homeless alcoholics, crippled people trapped in sin and hopelessness, people who seem to be wriggling in an accursed town, far away. So far away that I could hardly manage to fit them into the Debrecen of my memories.
There you are! A tactful foreigner, protected by the shell of her innocence; and a person thinking about his hometown after two long decades of absence, protected by distance which would seduce him into painting sentimental, sepia-coloured images.
Dear reader, our twelve-part series has ended here. If you have a chance, please visit Debrecen. When you're there, you might feel like writing a postcard to somebody.
posted by bm at 3:13 PM
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