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Posts Tagged ‘Hungary’

Revisiting The Past: Melbourne and ‘Blood in The Water’.

July 3rd, 2010 Paul No comments

On a recent visit to Melbourne, a colleague casually pointed out a sports stadium, saying that it was the only building left of the 1956 Olympics held in that city. It was the swimming arena, she said. I was momentarily stunned – even though I had been to Melbourne several times before, including on holiday, I had never thought to see if the venue of the greatest water polo ever, still existed. And apparently it was still there, the sole remaining venue of those Olympics 54 years ago.

Ervin Zádor

Ervin Zádor and the 'Blood in the Water' match.

Anyone with a Hungarian connection will understand the significance of the venue: it was the scene of the so-called ‘Blood in the Water’ match in which Hungary defeated the Soviet Union in the semi-finals of water polo.  The clue to all this is the date: the match took place on 6 December 1956, a month after the Soviet Union crushed the Hungarian revolution. It is not hard to imagine the atmosphere that must surrounded the event, with the Hungarians,  far away from their home, which was been torn apart by the Soviets. The crowd that day was decidedly partisan, there many local Hungarians present, plus, Americans and Australians who had no love for the Soviet Union. It was a rough affair from the start but when the Hungarian player, Ervin Zádor was punched in the eye by a member of the Soviet team and emerged from the water with blood streaming down his face, the crowd erupted. Officials fared the worst and called the match off with Hungary leading 4-0. The headlines the next day read, ‘Blood in the Water’, and the legend was born. Hungary went on to win the gold medal, beating Yugoslavia 2-1.

Westpac Centre, Melbourne

The Westpac Centre, July 2010.

The match has recently been captured in two films: ‘Children of Glory’, includes a re-enactment of the ‘blood in the water’ match whilst a documentary ‘Freedom’s Fury’ reunites players from both sides who tell the story of the ‘bloodiest game in Olympic history’.

Today the venue is known as the Westpac Centre and is the home of the Collingwood Football Club and the Victorian Institute of Sport. It was closed when I made the trek there but I am not sure it is open to the public as such. However as you can clearly see, the glass facade with its distinctive vertical panes in the background of the photo of Zádor, are clearly visible today. The original pool itself is gone, judging by photos of the inside. I hope there is a plaque somewhere in the building commemorating the events of 6 December all those years ago.

As I stood opposite the stadium, taking the photo above, and thinking of that match, and those young men so far from home, an unmistakable sound caught my ear. Two young mothers, their young children in strollers, walked passed me, talking to each other. At that moment, I caught the oh so familiar sound of Hungarian being spoken. A chill went up my spine and I smiled. Hungarians, you just can’t get away from them.  Then, something must have got into my eye I guess, as I couldn’t see quite so clearly.

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The World Shrinks A Little More

June 20th, 2010 Paul No comments

Thirteen years ago, in 1997, we lived in Budapest, in the district of Újpest, at 63 Munkásotthon utca. It was a special time in our lives and one that I have many fond memories of. Or at least I do now! Our apartment, on the third floor, was the base from which I began my exploration of Budapest, and Hungary. From this address we would walk the kilometre to the main underground railway station at Újpest and then onto to Budapest and beyond. Now, through the wonders of the Internet I can see again the apartment building we first lived in and take the same walk to the underground railway station.

I have been waiting for Google Streetview to “arrive” in Hungary but I now see that eXtreme Soft Group S.R.L , a Romanian company, is providing the first “street-level imaging” service for Eastern and Central Europe. I can re-explore the streets and places I once did all those years ago. The world has shrunk indeed.

For a full-screen view click on the small red square in the top right-hand corner of the photo. You can explore from this link as well: http://www.norc.at/pano/gVTYmF4k/.

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Where Does It End? – The Paternoster

September 3rd, 2009 Paul No comments

For some reason I was reminded tonight of the wonderful lift, known as a paternoster, I often used whenever I visited the Corvina bookshop in Vörösmarty tér [Square] in Budapest. According to Wikipedia [is there anything you can't find out about on Wikipedia?] a paternoster is “a passenger elevator which consists of a chain of open compartments (each usually designed for two persons) that move slowly in a loop up and down inside a building without stopping. Passengers can step on or off at any floor they like.” Yes, but that doesn’t give the sense of excitement you feel when you literally jump into the lift as it slowly passes by. It doesn’t stop. You jump on. You need to have timing and courage. And getting off is the same. It doesn’t stop. You jump off. That requires timing and courage too. There are no doors, just “open compartments” in which you hope there is no-one. Because they may get in the way.

Typically, there are two paternosters: one goes up, one goes down. I was never brave enough to go “all the way” on a paternoster and see what would happen at the top, or at the bottom. How would it be at the limits? Would it magically change places with the other lift and change direction? Surely not. Perhaps it would simply stop, and reverse direction. As I say, I never found out. Perhaps it was a lack of courage: or a lack of knowledge of how to say in Hungarian, “Help, I am stuck in a paternoster and can’t get off.” Or maybe I never really wanted to. Some things are best left imagined.

The Corvina bookshop was, as I say located on Vórösmarty tér in downtown Budapest, at one end of Váci utca [Street]. Borders it was not. It did however have the one of the best, and cheapest, selections of English-language books in Budapest and therefore in all of Hungary. Well, at least that was my experience when I lived there, in another lifetime. Perhaps now it has changed and is no more. I hope not. Typically whenever I went there, I was the only one in the bookshop; well, large room, with tables full of books, is a better description, alone with the assistant, who behaved as if he or she had been banished to a form of purgatory that involved dealing with foreigners. Actually that is unfair. Most shop assistants in Hungary look like they are in purgatory, not just those in the Corvina bookshop.

Outside on the square below I could see the many tourists having their portraits done by the caricaturists that are a feature of the square – just like anywhere else really – or buying authentic Hungarian souvenirs that included tea-towels of the Chain Bridge. Of course, I felt smug as I literally looked down on them. The Corvina bookshop was the real Hungary, I thought, full of wonderful literature, surly shop assistants, looking in askance at outsiders, a secret place known only to those with a true love of this place, an island of sound, in the heart of Europe. Or known to those who braved the paternoster, but knew enough not to want to know how it all ends. Our Father, who art in heaven….

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May in Hungarian History

July 3rd, 2009 Paul No comments

We begin our survey of May in Hungarian history with a look at the life of one of the more controversial figures in twentieth century Hungarian life, Janós Kádár.

János Kádár

János Kádár

May is the month in which he was born, on 26 May 1912 in Fiume, and on 22 May 1988 his long political career ended when, plagued by ill-health and clear signs of senility, he was removed from the Politburo and replaced as General Secretary by the then Prime Minister Károly Grósz. And in between those 76 years, what do we make of his life and career? For many he was the man who invited the Soviets in 1956 and saw to the crushing of the Revolution, including the execution of its leaders, including Imre Nagy. So for many Hungarians he has blood on his hands. Yet I know of more than one Hungarian who liked and respected Kádár. They see him as someone who, the events of 1956 notwithstanding, oversaw nearly three decades of peace, prosperity and a degree of freedom not experienced in other Communist countries. Eventually, life under a Kádár-ruled Hungary was not so bad, they say. A few things are clear about Kádár – he was a life-long Communist who despite the ups and downs of his career never wavered in his ideological beliefs; he led a Spartan, puritan-like life and actively avoided any “personality” politics; and he ruled Hungary for longer than any other leader in modern times. But ultimately he was the victim of the truism “all political careers end in failure” 1 : the re-burial of Imre Nagy in 1989, the man Kádár had sent to the gallows, signified the end of his regime and all he had stood for. Kádár himself died a few weeks after Nagy’s reburial but by then he was irrelevant to Hungarian life, his legacy at best uncertain.

Turning from politics to more cultural matters, May is the birth month of one of my favourite Hungarian painters, Béla Iványi-Grünwald who was born on 6 May 1867. Initially a pupil of Bertalan Székely and Károly Lotz, he studied in Munich and Paris before joining the Nagybanya artists group.

Devotion

Devotion

An example of his early work is Devotion (Ave Maria) showing meticulous drawing and restrained use of colour, Once at Nagybanya his style naturally changed and became much more impressionistic. His “Spring Excursion” is a fine example of the plein-air style and while very close to the French Impressionist style, is still distinctly Hungarian in feel. Iványi-Grünwald eventually settled in Kecskémet where he founded his own artists’ colony.

Another significant figure in Hungarian cultural life, Miklós Radnóti, was also born in May, on the 5th, 1909. He is one of Hungary’s greatest twentieth century poets and his works are the most translated on any Hungarian poet. His poems are of the utmost beauty and have a grace and power born of truly loving spirit. Yet death is a common theme of his poetry – not surprising given that his mother died giving birth to him and his twin brother was still-born; his father died when Radnóti was barely a teenager. It is however the manner of his own death that gives his life and poetry real meaning. As a Hungarian Jew he was not drafted into the regular army but instead was forced to serve in labour-camp service. In late 1944 his squad was forced marched to Abda in north-west Hungary where he along with twenty-two others were shot by their guards and buried in a mass grave. His body has later exhumed and a notebook of poems was found sewn into his clothing. These formed part of a posthumous volume of his poetry known as Foamy Sky (Tajtékos ég) that truly established his reputation as a great poet. His last poem, written a week before his death, Razglednica (4), [Serbian for ‘postcard’] has become perhaps the most famous poem of the holocaust. Only seven lines long, it is worth showing in full here

I fell next to him. His body rolled over.
It was tight as a string before it snaps.
Shot in the back of the head – ’This is how
you’ll end.’ ‘Just lie quietly,’ I said to myself.
Patience flowers into death now.
‘Der springt noch auf(*). I heard above me.
Dark filthy blood was drying on my ear.

Translated by Steven Polgár.
(*)”This one might get away yet”

Gyula Krúdy

Gyula Krúdy

May marks the death of another titan of the Hungarian literary scene, Gyula Krúdy who passed away on 12 May 1933. A contemporary and friend of Ady, Krúdy established his reputation was a writer of class with his Sinbad stories. Here he tells about the adventures, amorous and otherwise, of the timeless, nostalgic ridden Sinbad. No doubt many of these stories have their basis in Krúdy own tremendous love of life and its many pleasures. But he tells these stories in a mystical, sad yet hopeful manner. His prose has a rhythm and a music that draws you into the phantasmagorical, dream-like world of Sinbad and keeps you there. The world he describes is manifestly Hungarian in tone, colour and feel. Fortunately these works are now available in English translation so his works have a much wider audience.

Several other great Hungarian writers departed this earth in the month of May including Jókai Mór on 5 May 1904, Áron Tamási on 26 May 1966, Kálmán Mikszáth on 28 May 1910, and in more recent times the poet János Pilinszky died on 27 May 1981.

If we can return briefly to politics two current political figures celebrate birthdays this month, Katalin Szili, who visited New Zealand recently, turned 50 on 13May and Viktor Orbán celebrated 43 years on 31 May. One suspects with recent political events, it wasn’t the happiest of celebrations.

We will end this brief survey of Hungarian history and personalities with a connection to the month of May with a look at the life of Artúr Görgey, the military leader of the 1848-49 War of Independence, who died on 21 May 1916 at the remarkable age of 98. After playing a key role in some of the early military success of 1848, he was appointed as supreme commander of the Hungarian forces by Kossuth. However differences between himself and Kossuth surfaced as they argued over the conduct of the war, the role of the army and the place of the Monarchy. By early 1849 Görgy was suspected of treason after several of his offices went over to the Imperial side. Nonetheless as the military and political situation deteriorated throughout that year, Kossuth would eventually resign and hand over power to Görgy. A few days later Kossuth wrote to him saying, “I should consider it treason if you were not to exploit every reasonable opportunity to save the nation. I should consider it treason if you begin negotiations, not in the name of the nation but in the name and interests of the army.”

Hungarian Troops Surrender to the Russians at Világos

Hungarian Troops Surrender to the Russians at Világos

But two months later Görgy surrendered to the Russians at Világos and thus became to many a traitor, “Hungary’s Judas”, and remained so for ever in the eyes of many. He was pardoned in 1867 and lived out the rest of his life in Hungary, vilified by many and humiliated in public. But in his last years and in recent historiography he is seen him in a different, more generous light. History can be both a cruel and a forgiving judge, as the heirs to János Kádár may one day discover.

Footnotes

1. Attributed to the British politician Enoch Powell who said, All political lives, unless they are cut off in midstream at a happy juncture, end in failure, because that is the nature of politics and of human affairs. * Enoch Powell, Joseph Chamberlain (Thames and Hudson, 1977), p. 151. Back to Post

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ANZAC Day, Budapest 2001

April 25th, 2009 Paul No comments

In 2001 we attended the ANZAC Day service at the British Commonwealth War Cemetery located near Solymár, on the outskirts of Budapest, Hungary. There are over 150 service personnel buried here, including six New Zealanders. The photos below include the gravestone of each one of these six New Zealanders.

Commwealth War Cemetery, Solymar, Hungary

Commwealth War Cemetery, Solymar, Hungary

These wreaths were laid by representatives of the New Zealand, Australian, and Hungarian Governments on ANZAC Day, 2001.

These wreaths were laid by representatives of the New Zealand, Australian, and Hungarian Governments on ANZAC Day, 2001.

It was a beautiful, clear, sunny Spring day.

It was a beautiful, clear, sunny Spring day.

The Honour Guard, Hungarian Soldiers.

The Honour Guard, Hungarian Soldiers.

Let us hope they never have to fight.

Let us hope they never have to fight.

This wreath was laid by the New Zealand Consul on behalf of the government and people of New Zealand.

This wreath was laid by the New Zealand Consul on behalf of the government and people of New Zealand.

“They shall grow not old…”



425763 FLIGHT SERGEANT  R.C. CHESTERMAN  WIRELESS OPERATOR/AIR GUNNER ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 22 NOVEMBER 1944 AGE 34

425763 FLIGHT SERGEANT R.C. CHESTERMAN WIRELESS OPERATOR/AIR GUNNER ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 22 NOVEMBER 1944 AGE 34

“…as we that are left grow old,”



415776 WARRANT OFFICER  R.B. MANDER  PILOT ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 26 JUNE 1944 AGE 22

415776 WARRANT OFFICER R.B. MANDER PILOT ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 26 JUNE 1944 AGE 22

Age shall not weary them,”



425943 FLYING OFFICER  D.A. SANDMAN  PILOT ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 21 OCTOBER 1944 AGE 27

425943 FLYING OFFICER D.A. SANDMAN PILOT ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 21 OCTOBER 1944 AGE 27

“…nor the years condemn.”



 417121 FLYING OFFICER  H.M. SHEED  AIR BOMBER ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 23 NOVEMBER 1944 AGE 28

417121 FLYING OFFICER H.M. SHEED AIR BOMBER ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 23 NOVEMBER 1944 AGE 28

“At the going down of the sun”



427340 FLYING OFFICER  F.G. STOWELL  AIR BOMBER ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 8 AUGUST 1944 AGE 24

427340 FLYING OFFICER F.G. STOWELL AIR BOMBER ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 8 AUGUST 1944 AGE 24

“…and in the morning. We will remember them.”



415036 FLYING OFFICER  J.M. SUTCLIFFE  PILOT ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 23 NOVEMBER 1944 AGE 28

415036 FLYING OFFICER J.M. SUTCLIFFE PILOT ROYAL N.Z. AIR FORCE 23 NOVEMBER 1944 AGE 28

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