The New Hungarian Quarterly, 1986 (27. évfolyam, 104. szám)
BOOKS AND AUTHORS - Lengyel Balázs: Life Delighting in Life (Gyula Illyés, László Kálnoky, László Lator, Margit Szécsi)
172 LIFE DELIGHTING IN LIFE Gyula Illyés: Menet a ködben (Marching in the Fog). Szépirodalmi, 1986. 507 pp.; László Kálnoky: Hőstettek ülőkádban. (Heroic Deeds in the Hip-bath) Magvető, 1986. 78 pp.; László Lator: Fellobban, elhomályosul (Flaring zp, Fading). Szépirodalmi, 1986. 66 pp.; Margit Szécsi: Bethlehem Blues. Magvető, 1986. 66 pp. When surveyed from the moment, a relative vantage-point, the panorama of poetry produced in the recent past that unfolds is broader and more significant than it has been in any other present moment. More or less by accident, publishers have presented us with several representative volumes and, more than that, with a good number of volumes which, in one way or another and in their varying degree of success, are typical oftheverydifferenttypesof workthat are dominating poetry today. In its modes of expression, poetry, as I have already pointed out on more than one occasion in previous issues, is more divided in Hungary today than ever. This division is there primarily because of the fashion for the neo-avantgarde, the post-avant-garde or, to use the latest label in vogue, trans-avant-garde (even though this century has already produced its surprises in this respect). Nowadays, a young poet cannot really consider himself modern and contemporary unless he, from time to time, comes up with piles of words printed on top of one another, with calligrammes, verse posters, with texts deliberately rendered unintelligible by various means. One section of the young readership swear by this —to be blunt—bluff, these texts that resist interpretation. Another, fortunately still larger, section feels its blood rising when reading them, or at least rejects them with some degree of annoyance. For them, poetry is still something which has, if not content (a passé word), but at least some meaning, some communicational purpose. Or else it is not poetry. But teasing the reader is in again. Leaving this phenomenon behind, this account would best be begun by focussing on the peaks that the panorama presents to the viewer. With the bulky collection Marching in the Fog, together with three earlier volumes of collected poems (Haza a magasban— Homeland up in the high, 1972; Teremteni —To create, 1973: Szemben a támadással—Facing the attack, 1982), all the poems that Gyula Illyés (d. 1983)—as the expert on his poetry and editor of the present volume, Mátyás Domokos, points out—meant for publication are in our hands. This volume more or less completes this output. It consists of two parts, the first containing the posthumous volume (A semmi közelit—• The void comes closer, 1983) of which I wrote in NHQ 95, the second containing poems Illyés wrote between 1946 and 1983, which for various reasons have not appeared in a book. Marching in the Fog, then, complements this great oeuvre from two directions: it has the poems which, though published in periodicals, were written by the aging poet after the appearance of his volume (Minden lehet—Everything is possible), the last to appear in his lifetime. It also presents a significant body of poetry that had been kept in the drawer either because, for various reasons, Illyés did not want to publish them or they could not be published; they had been left out from the three previously mentioned volumes of collected poems. This book contains more than 500 pages and in its sheer size and its poetic riches arouses amazement. It is indeed incredible how prolife the poet was in the last three years of his life, in spite of his physical infirmities, how brilliantly his mind still worked, how sharp his eye was, how unbroken the will to express