Embers by Sandor Marai
I found this book while wandering the fiction section at my local library. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular but the cover caught my eye. I don’t read much translated fiction and so I took this as an opportunity to stray from my typical books.
The General has been waiting. For forty-one years, he’s been waiting. In his castle in a Hungarian forest, the castle where he was born and where surely he will die. Where his French mother played music in an attempt to tame his father. Where an Emperor and a King dined and danced. And where his best friend, his only true friend, tried to kill him.
And finally, after four decades, his waiting is over. His friend has returned to answer for his deeds. Parts of the castle that have been dormant are awakened. Everything is just as it was on that fateful night forty-one years previous. And two men who were like brothers, now in their seventies, meet for one final time. To settle the score. To face the music. The General has two questions he wants answered before he dies.
This was a strange book. Oddly compelling and yet, in places, incredibly boring. There were paragraphs that went on for pages. And mostly it was sort of the General’s stream of consciousness. I admit I started skimming on those long passages. They are probably filled with philosophical gems, but I couldn’t focus on them.
Besides those bits, I really enjoyed the story here. The saga of a minor Hungarian noble put into the military at a young age. His childhood, his friendship. The story of a life in a time I will never fully understand. When an Emperor sat in Vienna and the world had a strange sort of order to it.
There’s a sadness that pervades every page. Regret, betrayal, deceit, loneliness. It’s a book that, despite its faults, finds its way directly to your soul.
Although I’m only giving this book 2.5/5 stars, I don’t dislike this book. If you’re willing to fight your way through the long, meandering parts, I highly recommend you pick it up. I don’t know how this book ended up in my small town library, but I’m very glad it did.
KT Byrde Writes 