[biography] - [quotes] - [publications]
"They got along quite well together, The furniture
and the deceased. He lay slumped in the room opening on the garden.
His face resting on the carpet very peacefully, like someone who has
finally found refuge. A cheerful red-and-white sprinkling can next to
his outstretched arm. He probably started this way for the garden early
in the morning. But he fell headlong and the water spilled from the
can on to the flowers in the carpet.
The furniture stood around him. The dining table covered with a green
cloth,
the high-backed, faintly touchy chairs, the snuff-coloured cupboard.
The aroma of toasted bread could be sensed from somewhere in the kitchen.
The damp glitter of the sunlight streamed in through the open door.
The translucent blue sky. The cosy summer morning. Tranquility itself.
Then a door slams shut,
stamping steps,
screams,
shouts,
sobs,
a woman throws herself on the deceased, shakes his shoulders madly.
Ringing telephone,
the room fills with various figures,
ambulance siren,
and they again shake and tug at the deceased.
(The Deceased. From: On the Balcony, tr. by. A. Tezla)
"His recent volumes of stories, unique memory sequences, postmodern
novellas as it were, brilliantly juxtapose fiction and reality, dreams
and actual events. They may seem not to cohere, but they do relate and
claim universal interest, albeit placing higher demands on readers'
concentration and persistence. The texts are fitted together in a way
of an abundance of artfully connected motifs to form a carpet of ideas.
In our age of increasing acceleration, Mándy slows down his thinking
in order to assess and reexamine old and new impressions; nevertheless,
the reader remains in a constant state of excitement."
(Clara Györgyei)
[biography] - [quotes] - [publications]
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