Status
Checked out
Genres
Publication
NYRB Classics (2015), Edition: Tra, 288 pages
Description
"The Door is an unsettling exploration of the relationship between two very different women. Magda is a writer, educated, married to an academic, public-spirited, with an on-again-off-again relationship with Hungary's Communist authorities. Emerence is a peasant, illiterate, impassive, abrupt, seemingly ageless. She lives alone in a house that no one else may enter, not even her closest relatives. She is Magda's housekeeper and she has taken control over Magda's household, becoming indispensable to her. And Emerence, in her way, has come to depend on Magda. They share a kind of love--at least until Magda's long-sought success as a writer leads to a devastating revelation. Len Rix's prizewinning translation of The Door at last makes it possible for American readers to appreciate the masterwork of a major modern European writer"--… (more)
Media reviews
"Den fortjener å bli en bestselger."
"... en sjelden velskrevet, morsom og rørende bok ... "Døren" skal du lese fordi du fortjener det."
"... et av de mest underfundige portrett jeg noensinne har lest."
"Døren" er den type roman du ikke er ferdig med etter endt lesning ... noe av hemmeligheten ved at "Døren" griper så uimotståelig, er at den gjennomføres med konsekvens, uten sentimentalitet. Resten er det uhåndgripelige som kjennetegner all stor kunst."
"Døren" er en roman der leseren rives med fra første side. Den er et fascinerende portrett av to kvinner - historiens forteller, en forfatter, og den eldre uforglemmelige hushjelpen Emerenc, som har jobbet for henne i nærmere tjue år. Den ene lever nesten bare gjennom ordene, den andre kan
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knapt nok lese. Likevel knyttes de nærmere sammen enn noen av dem kunne ane. For Emerenc gir alt, enten det dreier seg om å redde en jøde, en tysker, en tyv eller en hjemløs katt. Hun tviler aldri et sekund. Men det er én ting hun ikke deler. Hun slipper aldri noen innenfor døren til sitt hjem. Show Less
User reviews
LibraryThing member DieFledermaus
Describing The Door as the story of a friendship between a writer and her housekeeper in no way conveys the baroque, almost Gothic, intensity of the novel. This is mostly due to the housekeeper, Emerence, who, from the moment the narrator meets her, is clearly seen to be no quiet domestic. She has
“She gave none of us the full picture of herself. Once among the dead, she must have enjoyed a quiet smile at our expense as we struggled to work out the full story, as each of us tried to match his own allotted pieces of information with those granted to the others. At least three vital facts went with her to the grave, and it must have been a source of satisfaction to her to look back and see that we still didn’t have a full account of her actions, and never would.”
The narrator, called by her name, Magda, only at one critical moment, is clearly a semi-autobiographical portrait of the author. Events in the life of the narrator echo Szabó’s biography – a writer, was banned from publishing under the Communist government, won a major Hungarian award. However, the history of Hungary in the 20th c. is only lightly alluded to – likely because of Emerence’s firm rejection of all sorts of prattling politicians, whatever government is in charge, do-gooders and the religious, lawyers and doctors, and meddling bureaucrats. In the opening chapter, the narrator describes her recurring nightmare after Emerence’s death – a death for which she blames herself. In the end, her betrayal of Emerence is not related to Emerence’s actions under the Nazis and Communists, her fraught family history, or her unsuccessful love but something altogether more ordinary.
The book is also an indictment of the narrator who, for all her concern with niceness and friendship and her later guilt, shame and anger, can’t act at crucial moments or guess how her actions – or lack of action – will lead to disaster. Perhaps she unwittingly fulfills Emerence’s judgment of writers being useless and indeed Emerence’s criticism of the narrator – that she is petty, hypocritical, dense and often more concerned with appearances than meaning – hits home. The narrator is operating in the everyday rushed world of work, dentists, and deadlines while Emerence is in another one entirely. The author nicely conveys this mismatch by showing the narrator’s side of the story and her interpretations – which many would agree with – as well as clearly conveying Emerence’s take on events. Her writing sharply depicts the narrator’s changing feelings towards her housekeeper as well as the odd world of Emerence. A very involving book. However, one would hope for the author’s sake that rather more of it was fiction than autobiographical.
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a superhuman competence and strength, a set of religiously firm beliefs (though not actual religious beliefs, which she mocks), and a mysterious past, symbolized by her door, which is closed to all comers. Emerence combines many stereotypes of the old woman – crazy cat lady, judgmental and moralizing, almost out of a folktale – but these traits are often tweaked and she is her own person, an idiosyncratic force of nature. The relationship spans 20+ years and initially it is cool – Emerence rejects the narrator’s desire for a superficial niceness and polite small talk. However, after the narrator’s husband becomes seriously ill and the couple takes in a dog, Viola (Emerence’s name for the male dog), the two women become closer. Even then there are steps forward and back, misunderstandings, occasional bizarre out-of-proportion behavior from Emerence, and angry tiffs and fits of pique. Gradually, Emerence’s secrets are revealed, but usually in an understated, realistic way and there are still some lingering doubts in the narrator’s mind as to whether they are the truth –“She gave none of us the full picture of herself. Once among the dead, she must have enjoyed a quiet smile at our expense as we struggled to work out the full story, as each of us tried to match his own allotted pieces of information with those granted to the others. At least three vital facts went with her to the grave, and it must have been a source of satisfaction to her to look back and see that we still didn’t have a full account of her actions, and never would.”
The narrator, called by her name, Magda, only at one critical moment, is clearly a semi-autobiographical portrait of the author. Events in the life of the narrator echo Szabó’s biography – a writer, was banned from publishing under the Communist government, won a major Hungarian award. However, the history of Hungary in the 20th c. is only lightly alluded to – likely because of Emerence’s firm rejection of all sorts of prattling politicians, whatever government is in charge, do-gooders and the religious, lawyers and doctors, and meddling bureaucrats. In the opening chapter, the narrator describes her recurring nightmare after Emerence’s death – a death for which she blames herself. In the end, her betrayal of Emerence is not related to Emerence’s actions under the Nazis and Communists, her fraught family history, or her unsuccessful love but something altogether more ordinary.
The book is also an indictment of the narrator who, for all her concern with niceness and friendship and her later guilt, shame and anger, can’t act at crucial moments or guess how her actions – or lack of action – will lead to disaster. Perhaps she unwittingly fulfills Emerence’s judgment of writers being useless and indeed Emerence’s criticism of the narrator – that she is petty, hypocritical, dense and often more concerned with appearances than meaning – hits home. The narrator is operating in the everyday rushed world of work, dentists, and deadlines while Emerence is in another one entirely. The author nicely conveys this mismatch by showing the narrator’s side of the story and her interpretations – which many would agree with – as well as clearly conveying Emerence’s take on events. Her writing sharply depicts the narrator’s changing feelings towards her housekeeper as well as the odd world of Emerence. A very involving book. However, one would hope for the author’s sake that rather more of it was fiction than autobiographical.
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LibraryThing member EBT1002
This novel, translated from the Hungarian, tells the story of an odd friendship between two women. The narrator is an author who develops an intense and tumultuous relationship with her elderly neighbor and housekeeper, Emerence. Emerence is a fiercely independent survivor of WWII who loves with
This is about a friendship between two women but it is not "chick lit." It is a beautiful and tragic story of love, attachment, contempt, admiration, fierce self-determination, and the tension among them. On the back of my copy, a reviewer for the *Scotsman* writes about The Door: "I finished it and straightaway started to read it again." I rarely have such an impulse and would not, while reading, have thought this would be my own reaction. But the ending is so exquisite that I felt as that reviewer had felt. I know there are allusions I missed and re-reading would not illuminate them for me, given my lack of solid knowledge of scripture and Greek mythology. But re-reading would give me another several hours with Emerence, Viola, and the narrator of this novel. That would be worth it.
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intensity but allows no one in. Literally. She lives in a flat and has caretaker responsibility for the building but no one is ever allowed entry into her living space. Neither are they allowed to know her history, although it does emerge in small bits. The narrator and her husband get a dog who attaches himself devotedly to Emerence and who serves as a spiritual go-between for Emerence and our narrator. Viola, the dog, understands and (sometimes) communicates the internal life of Emerence for the narrator as well as for the reader. This is about a friendship between two women but it is not "chick lit." It is a beautiful and tragic story of love, attachment, contempt, admiration, fierce self-determination, and the tension among them. On the back of my copy, a reviewer for the *Scotsman* writes about The Door: "I finished it and straightaway started to read it again." I rarely have such an impulse and would not, while reading, have thought this would be my own reaction. But the ending is so exquisite that I felt as that reviewer had felt. I know there are allusions I missed and re-reading would not illuminate them for me, given my lack of solid knowledge of scripture and Greek mythology. But re-reading would give me another several hours with Emerence, Viola, and the narrator of this novel. That would be worth it.
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LibraryThing member deebee1
I’ve read a few books by Hungarian authors and since none has disappointed me so far so I came to this book with high expectations. The premise seemed interesting — there are doors in our lives and in others’ lives which may never be entered freely. Magda is a struggling young writer who
The story is simple and the author tries to make us understand that as a writer, following intellectual pursuits that demand staring for hours into the trees beyond the balcony which for Magda and the academic husband constitute work, but for Emerence is a useless exercise since she only recognises work that demand the use of hands and brute force, somebody like Emerence is needed in their daily lives. Someone who cooks the meals, takes the dog out for a walk, shovels the snow on the sidewalk, in short, someone who makes the house liveable in order for them to concentrate on their higher and loftier pursuits. Easy enough to understand so there really was no need, I think, for Szabo to keep hammering on about this. I would have been happier if she had portrayed how the author in the story matured as a writer (given that she was all those years, free from housekeeping duties because of Emerence - she recognises this, even including a special thanks in her award speech) but Szabo’s writer is uninteresting. We don’t know how she got from one point to the other — was being a writer essential to understanding what lay behind doors and to open doors? Szabo’s telling of the story does not make any connection, and it’s where I think this book fails. I also found slightly irritating the repetitions — of the two women always getting into each other’s way (why are they always “flying into rages” — wondering if it’s the translation — I’m imagining flying dishes every time as each seemed capable of doing) — and Magda’s rather sanctimonious Catholicism, and didn’t like the ending, which I found rather weak. A shorter book also would have helped. In any case, it didn’t leave me thinking about the book afterwards.
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employed an aged housekeeper who is sharp and headstrong, a workaholic with an almost superhuman physical strength, an illiterate, a respecter of no one, and as the author herself puts it, a kind of primitive. She is compassionate toward animals and to the less fortunate, she is the go-to person in the neighbourhood which seem unable to cope without her, but she is a mystery to all. Nobody has ever crossed the threshold of her house, and what lies behind the door is an unknown. Magda and Emerence quickly develop a love-hate relationship and establish a strong bond over the years despite frequent and deeply unsettling conflicts they have. Emerence, during various occasions over the years, reveals secrets from her past but the door remains closed. Magda eventually becomes a big success as a writer, having now been recognised by her government (the autobiographical part of the story) just about the time that Emerence becomes ill. When Emerence dies, Magda blames herself and feels she failed Emerence who expected her to keep her secret, and hide what she thought was her shame, by keeping the door closed. None of what Emergence treasured and kept behind her door would remain — either fleeing or disintegrating into dust when the mysterious door was finally forced open from outside. Magda had orchestrated it all, thinking it was for the old woman’s good — now she was left with the thought that she had betrayed Emerence. The story is simple and the author tries to make us understand that as a writer, following intellectual pursuits that demand staring for hours into the trees beyond the balcony which for Magda and the academic husband constitute work, but for Emerence is a useless exercise since she only recognises work that demand the use of hands and brute force, somebody like Emerence is needed in their daily lives. Someone who cooks the meals, takes the dog out for a walk, shovels the snow on the sidewalk, in short, someone who makes the house liveable in order for them to concentrate on their higher and loftier pursuits. Easy enough to understand so there really was no need, I think, for Szabo to keep hammering on about this. I would have been happier if she had portrayed how the author in the story matured as a writer (given that she was all those years, free from housekeeping duties because of Emerence - she recognises this, even including a special thanks in her award speech) but Szabo’s writer is uninteresting. We don’t know how she got from one point to the other — was being a writer essential to understanding what lay behind doors and to open doors? Szabo’s telling of the story does not make any connection, and it’s where I think this book fails. I also found slightly irritating the repetitions — of the two women always getting into each other’s way (why are they always “flying into rages” — wondering if it’s the translation — I’m imagining flying dishes every time as each seemed capable of doing) — and Magda’s rather sanctimonious Catholicism, and didn’t like the ending, which I found rather weak. A shorter book also would have helped. In any case, it didn’t leave me thinking about the book afterwards.
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LibraryThing member RandyMetcalfe
A struggling writer and intellectual, Magda, and her husband (also a writer) hire an older local woman, Emerence, to clean their apartment and cook meals for them. Magda gradually forms a bond with the woman, a bond that is both intimate (they share guardianship of a dog) and distant. Over the
The relationship between Magda and Emerence is the centrepiece of the novel, yet it is neither comfortable nor particularly exemplary. It is typified by long periods of indifference punctuated by shrill, seething rage (felt by one or the other or both). The spikes in their relationship are nearly inexplicable since they are brought on by seemingly minor actions or events. (And why does the emotional level always jump to seething rage?) But equally hard to fathom is the repeated return to their more standard state of modest indifference that follows each crisis. I felt that perhaps Szabó thought more was being conveyed through these episodes than reached me through this translation. The extremity of Emerence’s psychological makeup undermines any hope for a universal message that the author might be seeking. I ended up not understanding Emerence but also not understanding Magda herself, who apparently has learned so much from her long relationship with Emerence.
Set in post-war Hungary, a period of significant political upheaval, the novel undoubtedly will carry more weight for those steeped in the political history of the state, nuances that I suspect passed by me unnoticed. However, since Szabó makes no effort to contextualize these political layers of meaning, she must intend for the novel to work regardless of access to them. Although there are moments when I’m sure she succeeds, overall I would have to say that it doesn’t really work. Regrettably, not recommended.
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course of many years, Magda learns almost nothing about the taciturn and somewhat secretive Emerence. For example, Emerence will not allow anyone into her ground floor flat in the building nearby. Indeed, Emerence’s closed door comes to symbolize the barriers, both deliberate and unintentional, that frustrate our attempts to know one another. Despite these frustrations, it is clear that Emerence cares deeply for Magda and her husband. And, on occasion, Emerence does gift Magda with partial glimpses into the troubled and traumatic events of her life that have brought her to her present state.The relationship between Magda and Emerence is the centrepiece of the novel, yet it is neither comfortable nor particularly exemplary. It is typified by long periods of indifference punctuated by shrill, seething rage (felt by one or the other or both). The spikes in their relationship are nearly inexplicable since they are brought on by seemingly minor actions or events. (And why does the emotional level always jump to seething rage?) But equally hard to fathom is the repeated return to their more standard state of modest indifference that follows each crisis. I felt that perhaps Szabó thought more was being conveyed through these episodes than reached me through this translation. The extremity of Emerence’s psychological makeup undermines any hope for a universal message that the author might be seeking. I ended up not understanding Emerence but also not understanding Magda herself, who apparently has learned so much from her long relationship with Emerence.
Set in post-war Hungary, a period of significant political upheaval, the novel undoubtedly will carry more weight for those steeped in the political history of the state, nuances that I suspect passed by me unnoticed. However, since Szabó makes no effort to contextualize these political layers of meaning, she must intend for the novel to work regardless of access to them. Although there are moments when I’m sure she succeeds, overall I would have to say that it doesn’t really work. Regrettably, not recommended.
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LibraryThing member brangwinn
This powerful book focuses on an old lady in Pest, Hungary. She’s survived seeing her younger brother and sister killed by lightning, the death of parents and being sent into service as a maid as well as two world wars. I didn’t like her, yet I felt her power and how she came to “rule” the
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street on which she lived with an iron hand, demanding the devotion of even Viola m the dog. Told by the “writer lady” for whom Emerence agreed to work, it is the story of coming under this strong old lady’s power, unable to leave Emerence alone despite Emerence’s seemingly derogatory actions and words. To me it is the story of how we try to push away people we need and love to avoid rejection. Show Less
LibraryThing member thorold
This is a complicated book built around an apparently simple premise, the relationship between a writer (Magda) and the old woman (Emerence) she employs to help with the housework in her apartment in Pest. As she spars with Emerence to retain control of her apartment, dog and life-in-general -
Although Magda clearly has a lot in common with her creator, Szabó takes care to undermine her authority as narrator here and there to prevent us from simply identifying with one side of the story. We go backwards and forwards in our understanding of the two central characters, and every time we think we're getting there Emerence tosses in a brick and undermines it all again.
Elegant, restrained, poetical, but ultimately quite a devastating book.
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battles which Emerence almost always wins effortlessly - Magda finds herself confronting serious questions about love, death, God, human dignity, old age, Hungarian history, the relative values of manual and intellectual work, and - above all - about how much access we can and should grant other people to the inner parts of our lives. Although Magda clearly has a lot in common with her creator, Szabó takes care to undermine her authority as narrator here and there to prevent us from simply identifying with one side of the story. We go backwards and forwards in our understanding of the two central characters, and every time we think we're getting there Emerence tosses in a brick and undermines it all again.
Elegant, restrained, poetical, but ultimately quite a devastating book.
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LibraryThing member RobinDawson
I've never read a book like this before - or known a character as enthralling as Emerence - so feisty, fierce and unpredictable. I didn't think Szabo would be able to hold the reader's interest over such a long book and so many decades but she succeeds totally. The pacing is excellent showing the
I see a film is being made and Helen Mirren is to be Emerence - a little hard for me to imagine as I formed the impression from the book that Emerence was a short, solid, chunky, weathered, plain woman...but then Mirren is the ultimate shape-shifter!
Don't miss this book.
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gradual development of a strong bond between the writer and her housekeeper, and the incremental revelations about Emerence's past - and her past is a fascinating window into the history of Hungary itself.I see a film is being made and Helen Mirren is to be Emerence - a little hard for me to imagine as I formed the impression from the book that Emerence was a short, solid, chunky, weathered, plain woman...but then Mirren is the ultimate shape-shifter!
Don't miss this book.
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LibraryThing member akeela
This novel read like a memoir or a journal, even, and could have been called “My Life with Emerence” or “Emerence and I”. The first-person narrator, Magda, is a Hungarian writer, who needs help keeping her home in order so she can concentrate on plying her trade. She enlists the help of
Emerence is robust with a headstrong personality and Magda struggles to establish a relationship with her. She is given to bouts of quietness and is often evasive. She doesn't allow anyone beyond her front door – even visitors have to stay outside. This gives rise to numerous questions and theories about what lies behind The Door.
When Magda and her husband reluctantly adopt a dog, Viola, the dog takes to Emerence more readily than to her own family. Viola has a personality of her own, and dog lovers will probably enjoy this character.
Gradually the two women develop a friendship, and Emerence comes to share her life-story with Magda. An understanding emerges of this strong, giving but ultimately private woman. This is a quiet story, of the struggle to understand and accept a woman on her own terms.
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Emerence, a woman well-known in the area, as a helping hand.Emerence is robust with a headstrong personality and Magda struggles to establish a relationship with her. She is given to bouts of quietness and is often evasive. She doesn't allow anyone beyond her front door – even visitors have to stay outside. This gives rise to numerous questions and theories about what lies behind The Door.
When Magda and her husband reluctantly adopt a dog, Viola, the dog takes to Emerence more readily than to her own family. Viola has a personality of her own, and dog lovers will probably enjoy this character.
Gradually the two women develop a friendship, and Emerence comes to share her life-story with Magda. An understanding emerges of this strong, giving but ultimately private woman. This is a quiet story, of the struggle to understand and accept a woman on her own terms.
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LibraryThing member Lisa02476
Fantastic, mysterious. Loved these deep, complex, flawed characters.
LibraryThing member ozzer
THE DOOR is a superb examination of intimate relationships. The novel’s mood is intense and unrelenting—almost but not quite gothic. In this case the friendship is between two women: a Hungarian writer and her housekeeper. Superficially this friendship seems unusual, but in retrospect probably
Although the writer, Magda, is the narrator, the star is clearly Emerence, the housekeeper. She is an enigmatic figure with almost inexhaustible energy, fixed iconoclastic ideas, affection for and expertise with animals and an intense need to protect her privacy. As the title suggests, Emerence keeps her door locked to outsiders both figuratively and literally. Szabo masterfully reveals her backstory and nature through her relationship with Magda. She captures the essence of how many close friendships evolve—they are never direct but instead characterized by cycles of misunderstanding and argument followed by reconciliation—peaks and valleys. For Emerence, the ultimate symbol of her trust in Magda comes when she eventually permits her to enter her home. “I’m going to give you the only thing I have.” This level of intimacy has never been shared with anyone else, with the possible exception of the Lieutenant Colonel who gains access in an official capacity.
Szabo cleverly highlights the relationship between the two women by using a very minimal plot. Magda is recovering from the state sanctioning of her work. She and her husband hire Emerence—although Emerence behaves like she is hiring them. They rescue a dog from the snow and Emerence encourages them to keep him. Emerence names him Viola and trains him. Szabo bestows many endearing qualities on Viola and eventually he arises to the level of another character in the book. A friendship blossoms between Emerence and Magda. Emerence becomes ill but refuses to leave her house or allow anyone entrance to tend her. This culminates in events that harm their relationship and create intense feelings of guilt for Magda.
Most of the action in the novel comes from what Emerence eventually reveals to Magda about her past. This parallels much of the misery experienced by Hungary in the 20th century—war, Nazi and Communist occupations and revolution. Her personal story also is marked by love, loss and tragedy. These events not only forge her personality and belief system, but also her intense need for privacy. Moreover, she displays little need for material wealth, organized religion or politics. Instead, she has only a small group of friends, but none are as close as Magda.
The main theme of the novel is the limitations of human communication. Szabo skillfully explores this using the metaphor of the locked door. This represents the barriers that some erect to exclude pain but unintentionally also frustrate communication and caring. Emerence tries her damnedest to keep people out while expressing caring in all kinds of covert ways—sweeping the snow from neighborhood sidewalks, having tea parties on her porch, providing soup to the sick in a christening bowl, adopting stray animals and sheltering people in need. Much like an animal who might bring “treasures” to beloved humans, Emerence rescues all kinds of useless items from the trash and brings them to Magda. These symbolize a level of caring that Magda and her husband cannot appreciate and offer one of the few humorous notes in the novel. Szabo exquisitely captures just how hard it was for Emerence to give and receive help when she describes her borrowing Magda’s flat to entertain a special visitor. Her reaction to being stood-up by this person is surprising in the extreme but characterizes Emerence’s difficulty with openly giving and receiving favors.
Szabo embellishes her main theme with multiple minor elements that are relevant and add to the richness of her narrative. The two women evoke the class struggle between intellectuals and the working class; one lives the life of the mind while the other has trouble seeing that as actual work. Giving and receiving favors is often fraught with a sense of quid pro quo and failing to honor these basic courtesies is often misconstrued. Some people feel uncomfortable openly expressing caring and, instead adopt a tactic of “tough love.” Finally, and probably most importantly for Szabo, a writer struggle to understand and adequately depict reality as she perceives it.
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is not so strange. Although the writer, Magda, is the narrator, the star is clearly Emerence, the housekeeper. She is an enigmatic figure with almost inexhaustible energy, fixed iconoclastic ideas, affection for and expertise with animals and an intense need to protect her privacy. As the title suggests, Emerence keeps her door locked to outsiders both figuratively and literally. Szabo masterfully reveals her backstory and nature through her relationship with Magda. She captures the essence of how many close friendships evolve—they are never direct but instead characterized by cycles of misunderstanding and argument followed by reconciliation—peaks and valleys. For Emerence, the ultimate symbol of her trust in Magda comes when she eventually permits her to enter her home. “I’m going to give you the only thing I have.” This level of intimacy has never been shared with anyone else, with the possible exception of the Lieutenant Colonel who gains access in an official capacity.
Szabo cleverly highlights the relationship between the two women by using a very minimal plot. Magda is recovering from the state sanctioning of her work. She and her husband hire Emerence—although Emerence behaves like she is hiring them. They rescue a dog from the snow and Emerence encourages them to keep him. Emerence names him Viola and trains him. Szabo bestows many endearing qualities on Viola and eventually he arises to the level of another character in the book. A friendship blossoms between Emerence and Magda. Emerence becomes ill but refuses to leave her house or allow anyone entrance to tend her. This culminates in events that harm their relationship and create intense feelings of guilt for Magda.
Most of the action in the novel comes from what Emerence eventually reveals to Magda about her past. This parallels much of the misery experienced by Hungary in the 20th century—war, Nazi and Communist occupations and revolution. Her personal story also is marked by love, loss and tragedy. These events not only forge her personality and belief system, but also her intense need for privacy. Moreover, she displays little need for material wealth, organized religion or politics. Instead, she has only a small group of friends, but none are as close as Magda.
The main theme of the novel is the limitations of human communication. Szabo skillfully explores this using the metaphor of the locked door. This represents the barriers that some erect to exclude pain but unintentionally also frustrate communication and caring. Emerence tries her damnedest to keep people out while expressing caring in all kinds of covert ways—sweeping the snow from neighborhood sidewalks, having tea parties on her porch, providing soup to the sick in a christening bowl, adopting stray animals and sheltering people in need. Much like an animal who might bring “treasures” to beloved humans, Emerence rescues all kinds of useless items from the trash and brings them to Magda. These symbolize a level of caring that Magda and her husband cannot appreciate and offer one of the few humorous notes in the novel. Szabo exquisitely captures just how hard it was for Emerence to give and receive help when she describes her borrowing Magda’s flat to entertain a special visitor. Her reaction to being stood-up by this person is surprising in the extreme but characterizes Emerence’s difficulty with openly giving and receiving favors.
Szabo embellishes her main theme with multiple minor elements that are relevant and add to the richness of her narrative. The two women evoke the class struggle between intellectuals and the working class; one lives the life of the mind while the other has trouble seeing that as actual work. Giving and receiving favors is often fraught with a sense of quid pro quo and failing to honor these basic courtesies is often misconstrued. Some people feel uncomfortable openly expressing caring and, instead adopt a tactic of “tough love.” Finally, and probably most importantly for Szabo, a writer struggle to understand and adequately depict reality as she perceives it.
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LibraryThing member lisapeet
This was great—a really dark and wonderful little tale of (in this order, I think) pride, friendship, and class. I think I'd have gotten more out of it if I knew more about the politics of post WWII Hungary, but my experience of it will do. Great characters that you couldn't pin down if you
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wanted to, plus one fantastic character who happens to be a dog, but is no less fully realized for that. A library book that I wish I owned, and may eventually just so I can come back to it now and then. Show Less
LibraryThing member icolford
Magda Szabó’s novel The Door, first published in Hungary in 1987, chronicles the stormy relationship between two women, the writer narrator—whose name, we learn late in the book, is Magda—and her elderly housekeeper Emerence. The novel is set in post-war Hungary during the time of an
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ideological thaw, when Magda’s writing career, stifled for years by the Soviet-backed government, is once again a going concern. After years of professional ostracism and enforced silence, suddenly she and her work are in demand. With free time in short supply, Magda finds herself in need of a housekeeper to maintain order in the flat where she and her husband live while she works on new projects and makes public appearances. Enter Emerence, an elderly woman from the neighbourhood with an obsessive need to take charge and keep things clean, who comes highly recommended and who, once installed in Magda’s life, becomes a permanent fixture. The complex up-and-down relationship between the two woman is the novel’s troubling and fascinating centrepiece, one that the author makes exceedingly difficult to comprehend or describe in absolutes. Magda and Emerence could not be more different. Magda is cultured and devoutly Christian, with an urbanite’s liberal views and a deep respect for the professions (doctors, lawyers, engineers) that form the bedrock of a civilized and progressive society. Emerence, barely literate, is of peasant stock. She has learned through a life of hardship and tenacious self-sufficiency to not trust anyone, especially any form of authority. She bears a fierce hostility toward organized religion. And yet, despite these differences, which at times appear utterly unbridgeable and lead to loud and hurtful quarrels, the two form a lasting bond. The enigma that Emerence presents to the reader grows and deepens throughout the book. Early in the novel Magda and her husband adopt an abandoned dog, which, despite its being male, Emerence names Viola, and despite her occasional cruelty toward it, the dog is devoted to her. Emerence lives in a “service flat,” meaning that her rent is partly offset by labour. Always sweeping and cleaning, she a constant and tireless presence in the neighbourhood, one whom others depend upon and look to for guidance, in all matters. And yet she is secretive, emotionally aloof and socially awkward. Harshly judgmental, intransigent in her opinions, her pride makes it impossible for her accept help of any kind or to respond with gratitude to gifts or acts of kindness. Magda soon learns that Emerence has not opened the door of her flat to anyone for the years she has lived there, and as the story progresses that mystery deepens as well. In the end, their undeclared love for one another, which binds Magda and Emerence together, reaches an inevitable conclusion, and Magda is left with a bottomless sense of shame and loss. The Door does not pull at heartstrings, and yet it unleashes a profound emotional response in the reader. Rich in metaphor, cryptic and provocative, this is a major work by an important and original 20th-century voice. Show Less
LibraryThing member Iambookish
I'm just not sophisticated enough to get these kind of "deep" meaningful pieces of literature. I was frankly quite bored reading it because of the repetitive nature of the scenes written to hammer home the points the author was trying to make.
LibraryThing member Clurb
Full of rich characters and well-constructed, beautiful prose; The Door is a saddening, harrowing portrait of quiet compassion and love.
LibraryThing member edwinbcn
I read very little translated literature from countries which are relatively unknown to me, because many books belonging to the literature of such countries is difficult to understand if you are not fully aware of the history and socio-cultural background of these countries. Nonetheless, I was
Unfortunately, it worked out just as I had feared (of course). The central character, Emerence, is an old woman whose life story stands for the recent history of Hungary. She is an extremely resilient, peculiar and capricious person, the kind of person people would wrinkle their nose at and describe as "a character", in real life. The reader's sympathy for her, at least mine, swung from dislike, to sympathy, and back to strong dislike. The name "Emerence" means "worthy of merit", and that is what she would deserve. However, the reader gradually finds out how she was mangled through Hungarian history. The equilibrium which she had achieved towards the end of her life, the dignity she commands through strict privacy, is eventually ruthlessly destroyed, and the story end with her ultimate humiliation.
The difficulty in understanding the novel, lies in the difficulty of understanding Hungarian life, history and the likelihood of encountering a woman like Emerence.
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persuaded to buy this book by the Hungarian author Magda Szabó because I had seen a very favourable review, was planning to visit Hungary in 2010 and had already read another novel by her.Unfortunately, it worked out just as I had feared (of course). The central character, Emerence, is an old woman whose life story stands for the recent history of Hungary. She is an extremely resilient, peculiar and capricious person, the kind of person people would wrinkle their nose at and describe as "a character", in real life. The reader's sympathy for her, at least mine, swung from dislike, to sympathy, and back to strong dislike. The name "Emerence" means "worthy of merit", and that is what she would deserve. However, the reader gradually finds out how she was mangled through Hungarian history. The equilibrium which she had achieved towards the end of her life, the dignity she commands through strict privacy, is eventually ruthlessly destroyed, and the story end with her ultimate humiliation.
The difficulty in understanding the novel, lies in the difficulty of understanding Hungarian life, history and the likelihood of encountering a woman like Emerence.
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LibraryThing member starbox
"I truly believed that Emerence would no longer be a stranger but a friend: my friend",, April 18, 2016
This review is from: The Door (NYRB Classics) (Paperback)
After loving Magda Szabo's "Iza's Ballad", I ordered this work on the strength of it, but didn't quite enjoy it as much.
Like the other,
Well written but I was glad to get to the end.
This review is from: The Door (NYRB Classics) (Paperback)
After loving Magda Szabo's "Iza's Ballad", I ordered this work on the strength of it, but didn't quite enjoy it as much.
Like the other,
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this book takes as its theme old age. Here the elderly protagonist is the driven (but in no way subservient) Emerence who is a housekeeper / snow shoveller etc for several homes. Narrated by a writer who hires her, we follow the difficult relationship that grows up between them. The maid is outspoken in her scorn for church and politics; little snippets of her life come out, but no one is ever invited behind the door to her home. She relishes her independence, the invaluable position she occupies in the neighbourhood, her animals. But no one can go on forever... And, as the narrator realises, doing the socially accepted things to assist may not be what the subject actually wants...Well written but I was glad to get to the end.
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LibraryThing member Beamis12
I found the atmosphere of this novel to be full of darkness and despair. The friendship between two woman, one an up and coming author, the other an older woman revered on the street. Emerence is a character I will not soon forget, a woman who has seen much, sheltered unbiasedly different people
The title has many different meanings in this book, the literal door and other doors, internal and psychological. This book raised so many questions. What does friendship mean? How much of how a person sees themselves should be taken into consideration when the person needs help. How much do you owe a person when you are the only one they let behind the barriers and the secrets they have constructed in order to keep their past and present private? I have thought of this book on and off for the last few days, it is brilliantly written and packs a powerful punch. I loved Viola the dog and how attuned he was to the wants and need of Emerence and she to him.
This is not a happy little story but it is a thought provoking one, a book that will not be easily forgotten.
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throughout the war, a hardworking woman of the utmost honor and pride. The title has many different meanings in this book, the literal door and other doors, internal and psychological. This book raised so many questions. What does friendship mean? How much of how a person sees themselves should be taken into consideration when the person needs help. How much do you owe a person when you are the only one they let behind the barriers and the secrets they have constructed in order to keep their past and present private? I have thought of this book on and off for the last few days, it is brilliantly written and packs a powerful punch. I loved Viola the dog and how attuned he was to the wants and need of Emerence and she to him.
This is not a happy little story but it is a thought provoking one, a book that will not be easily forgotten.
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LibraryThing member oldblack
I found this to be a rather strange book. The main character, a woman called Emerence, is really wacky. She shouts abuse at her employer (the narrator) who is a writer, Emerence is constantly either critical of the writer or is just plain rude and incommunicative. Admittedly the writer is somewhat
The aspect which I disliked the most was what I might call magical realism. A dog enters the story early. It lives with the writer but is in love with Emerence. The dog ("Viola") behaves like an intelligent human with magical powers of perception.
Thinking back over it, I wonder how I finished it. The answer is that it's only a reasonably short book.
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insensitive and indeed that's the aspect that interested me a little and actually got me through to the end. Because I'm an insensitive and stupid person myself, I found it slightly interesting to see what fate would befall the stupid and insensitive writer. It would help the reader to know a little bit of Hungarian history - I don't know any. It was not at all apparent to me why two such women would form any sort of bond, and yet this is the central aspect of the story.The aspect which I disliked the most was what I might call magical realism. A dog enters the story early. It lives with the writer but is in love with Emerence. The dog ("Viola") behaves like an intelligent human with magical powers of perception.
Thinking back over it, I wonder how I finished it. The answer is that it's only a reasonably short book.
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LibraryThing member alwright1
While in Budapest, I looked for some Hungarian novels to read. This is one that I came across in the CEU bookstore and thought it sounded good. (I was also interested because it seemed to be received as "literary" despite being a book by a woman about the relationship between two women.)
A writer
A writer
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and her husband hire on a very unusual maid named Emerence to care for their house while they work. She is an odd force of nature, a rare character, and well respected by the whole community, but almost no one knows anything about her, and she does not allow others into her home at all. What follows the mystery is an investigation into the nature of friendship, love, privacy, and sense of self. I read it all on a plane in one day. Show Less
LibraryThing member over.the.edge
This book is about the friendship that slowly evolves between two women, who are almost opposites in their beliefs and approach to the world. The characters are amazing, and refreshingly sincere and deep. I enjoyed reading this book,..... so real it seemed like a memoir. I couldn't put it down,
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highly recommend it. Magda Szabo is an author I will look forward to reading. Show Less
LibraryThing member mareki
Superb. Shamefully the first (& probably only) book by a woman I read this year.
LibraryThing member LibraryCin
The narrator (I don’t think we ever learn her name in the book, though the blurb on the back calls her Magda) is a writer who hires an older woman, Emerence, to do her housekeeping. Emerence does lots of cleaning jobs and shows up when she feels like it. The two women form a friendship, despise
I hated Emerence and didn’t see how there was any kind of friendship on either side. I would, in fact, call Emerence a crazy old b**** - seriously crazy. She had temper tantrums that she took out on everyone around her, including the narrator’s dog, Viola. Not sure why Viola liked Emerence so much, when Emerence periodically beat Viola for no reason to do with the dog. Emerence also had cats and I worried for their safety, in addition to Viola’s. Though the book was pretty slow-moving, it did pick up a bit toward the end. But, I still hated Emerence and didn’t “get” the friendship, at all.
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Emerence’s “quirks”, including where she doesn’t ever let anyone, anyone at all, see inside her home. I hated Emerence and didn’t see how there was any kind of friendship on either side. I would, in fact, call Emerence a crazy old b**** - seriously crazy. She had temper tantrums that she took out on everyone around her, including the narrator’s dog, Viola. Not sure why Viola liked Emerence so much, when Emerence periodically beat Viola for no reason to do with the dog. Emerence also had cats and I worried for their safety, in addition to Viola’s. Though the book was pretty slow-moving, it did pick up a bit toward the end. But, I still hated Emerence and didn’t “get” the friendship, at all.
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LibraryThing member Charon07
Toward the end, around the last two or three chapters, I found it hard to continue reading, so heavy was the impending loss and guilt. The entire “plot,” such as it is, is the story of a housekeeper, Emerence, as told by one of her employers, a prize-winning author called Magda, and their
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evolving relationship. Show Less
LibraryThing member flashflood42
This is an excellent, haunting novel that I read on my way to New Zealand. The unlikely friendship between two women, so different in social class, education, life style, and personality, is riveting. Emerence, the Hungarian village's benevolent spirit, street sweeper, caretaker of all who need it,
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bringer of food and artifacts, curmudgeonly elder, has shut her door on the world because of past events in her life. Many in the village, including Magda and her husband, speculate on the reasons, all wrong, She opens it only once and only partially for Magda, educated, well-off, religious, and younger, Hungarian writer. In some sense, both women are locked away from each other and from others although it is more obvious in Emerence. Magda adopts a dog who loves and follows Emerence. Through their relationship, both women open up a bit and yet when Magda forces the door open, fearing for Emerence's life, she destroys her and their relationship. She crushes the other woman's dreams and her sense of reality. As another reviewer wrote: "What does our choice of what we cling to say about us as humans?" I also think we need to consider the doors we all keep closed or partially open in our lives. Show Less
LibraryThing member Petroglyph
Absent-minded and non-practical writer Magda, who has more than a few echoes of author Magda Szabó, hires elderly housekeeper Emerence, who is doggedly herself and refuses to compromise. Both women are diametric opposites in many respects: Magda is a politically active writer, but she is quick to
I found this novel to be strangely compelling. There really is not much to it, just the relationship between two women who are unlike each other, and the fascinating portrait of working class intransigence. But the development of the central friendship is captivating in a way I find hard to express in words. Much of the novel’s hypnotizing force, I think, rests on it feeling more like an autobiography or a character study than narrative fiction -- perhaps even a confession and a meditation on shame.
The door is not my usual cup of tea, but I’m glad I got to read it. It’s a book I’ll be turning over in my head from time to time.
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give in, doesn’t speak up and lets everyday things happen to her; Emerece is a barely-literate who never rests, who even sleeps sitting up, and who has her unshakeable habits, which she is firmly convinced are the only way to live. Her bull-headed insistence on interacting with people on her own terms is enforced through sheer force of character. For a character she is: secretive, but known to all in the neighbourhood, and they are protective of her like a local semi-tame cat. I found this novel to be strangely compelling. There really is not much to it, just the relationship between two women who are unlike each other, and the fascinating portrait of working class intransigence. But the development of the central friendship is captivating in a way I find hard to express in words. Much of the novel’s hypnotizing force, I think, rests on it feeling more like an autobiography or a character study than narrative fiction -- perhaps even a confession and a meditation on shame.
The door is not my usual cup of tea, but I’m glad I got to read it. It’s a book I’ll be turning over in my head from time to time.
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Awards
Prix Femina (2003)
Independent Foreign Fiction Prize (Shortlist — 2006)
The New York Times Best Books of the Year (Fiction — 2015)
Language
Original language
English
Original publication date
1987
2005 (English translation)
Physical description
288 p.; 5 inches
ISBN
1590177711 / 9781590177716
Local notes
fiction