CHAPTER V[22]
OLYMPIAN STRIVINGS
[Footnote 22: This chapter is somewhat condensed.]
It was Petofi who introduced me to my associates of the "Table of PublicOpinion" (as the long table close to the counter in the Cafe Pillwax wascalled), and who got me a place there. "This is a true Frenchman!" saidPetofi, as he presented me to his young army of _literati_ who wereassembled there. In those days this was the highest conceivable praise.The face of every liberty-loving nation was turned towards France, andfrom thence we expected the dawn of the new era. We read nothing butFrench books. Lamartine's "History of the Girondists" and Tocqueville's"Democracy" were our bibles. Petofi worshipped Beranger, I had found myideal in Victor Hugo.... This school might easily have become dangerousto us had not its influence fortunately coincided with the opening up ofa new and hitherto unexplored field--popular literature. Hitherto it hadbeen the endeavour of Hungarian writers to write in a style which wasdistinct from the language of ordinary life. Our group, on the otherhand, started the idea that it was just those very constructions,expressions, and modes of thought employed in every-day life thatHungarian writers ought to take as the fundamental principle of theirwriting; nay, that they should even develop the ideally beautiful,poetry itself, from the life of the common people.... As belonging tothis camp of ours I must also reckon Sigismund Czako, who acclimatizedthe modern drama to our stage with marked success; and finally AnthonyCsengery, the editor of the _Pesti Hirlap_, who wrote nothing in the wayof _belles lettres_ himself, but whose immense erudition and thoroughknowledge of literature enabled him to exercise a most beneficialinfluence over the whole of our group. Amongst our older writers also,Vorosmarty and Bajza watched over us with stimulating encouragement; butit was Ignatius Nagy in particular who befriended us, and of him I havethe most pleasant recollections.... At this time he was a cripple. Hewas rarely to be seen in the street, and then only on his wife's arm. Hestopped at home all day at his writing-table, writing those life-likesketches of the little world of Buda-Pest which testify to such a serenegood-humour. The first time I saw him was when I went to speak to himabout my novel, "Hetkoznapok." He had a most embarrassing face coveredwith dark-red spots right up to his astonishingly lofty forehead, whoseshiny baldness was half cut in two, as it were, by a bright blackperuke. He had also an inconceivably big red nose, at which, however,you had no time to be amazed, so instantly were you spell-bound by acouple of squinting eyes, one of which glared as fixedly at you as if itwere made wholly of stone. His voice, on the other hand, was as thevoice of a sick child. And within this repulsive frame dwelt the noblestof souls, in this crippled body the most energetic of characters. Fromno strange face did I ever get a kinder glance than I got from thosestiff fishy eyes, and that sick voice announced to me my first greatpiece of good news. Upon his recommendation, the publisher Hartlebenagreed to publish my first romance, and gave me for it 360 silverflorins. In those days that was an immense fortune to me. I had nofurther need to go scribbling all day long in a lawyer's office at sixflorins a month. And his fatherly solicitude for me went still further.He introduced me to Frankenburg as a dramatic critic. The editor of the_Eletkepek_ had just parted with his dramatic critic (he had been alittle too unmerciful to the artistes), and was looking out for a newcolleague. By way of honorarium he offered me a free seat at thetheatre, and ten florins a month. But my year of office came to an endthe very first week. To make amends for the sins of my predecessor, Ilauded every artist to the skies, according to the dictates of myyouthful enthusiasm. And I can honestly say that I wrote it all from myvery heart. It was then that I saw a ballet for the first time in mylife. It was my solemn conviction that I was bound by a debt ofgratitude to the excellent damsel who exhibited her natural charms tothe public eye with such magnanimous frankness. And a pretty lectureFrankenburg read me for it too! "Delightful Sylphid indeed! A clumsystork, I should say!" Still, _that_ might have passed. But it was mymagnifying of Lilla Szilagyi who took the part of Smike in the _Beggarsof London_ which did the business for me. I said of her that she was "alovely sapling!" and promised her a brilliant future in her dramaticcareer. "Leave her where you found her! She has got no heart that'scertain!" said the editor. "Then she'll get one!" said I. "But you'llnever get to be a critic," said he.
And so, for Lilla Szilagyi's sake, I laid down my _role_ of critic, andyet I was right after all, for, as Madame Bulyovszky, she really didbecome a great artiste. Now, however, I bless my fate that things fellout as they did. Terrible thought: fancy if I now only had thereputation of a famous--critic!
A few days after that, a new career suddenly opened before me. PaulKiralyi invited me to join his newspaper, the _Jelenkor_, as acorrespondent. He offered me a salary of thirty-five florins a month. Ofcourse I jumped at it. Newspaper writing was a very grateful task inthose days. The paper appeared thrice a week. That was quite sufficientto give us all the news. It is different now. Nowadays more murders,suicides, and burglaries occur in the twenty-four hours than occurred ina whole twelvemonth then.
And a newspaper contributor was then a personage of some importance. Letme give an example:--
I lived with the dramatist, Szigligeti. In the summer we occupied awhole flat in a brand-new house in Pipe Street, and there I had a roomof my own, with an exit opening on the staircase. The other flats wereempty. The Szigligetis flitted during the summer to the suburbs of Buda.Thus I had the whole of the first floor of the new house at my disposal,to my great satisfaction, for I could work away quite undisturbed. Inthe autumn, however, the Szigligetis returned, and the adjoining flatsat the same time got new tenants. The very next night I discovered, tomy horror, with whom I was living under the same roof. It was the wifeof the possessor of a flower-garden, who also kept a dancing academy.What afternoons, what nights I passed!
At last I could stand it no longer, and I implored Szigligeti to appealmost energetically to the authorities against the nuisance. Szigligetifully shared my indignation himself, so he posted off at once to theTown Captain to lay his complaint.
"Sir," said he, "the proprietress of a flower-garden has settled down inmy immediate neighbourhood."
"But flowers must bloom somewhere, I suppose?"
"But the people dance the livelong night."
"That doesn't injure any one, surely?"
"But after dancing they sit down to rest."
"That is very natural."
"But they take their rest and recreation very noisily."
The Town Captain shrugged his shoulders, he could do nothing in thematter; it was a ticklish business to interfere in; it did not fallwithin his jurisdiction, etc., etc.
But when, finally, Szigligeti said: "My lodger, the correspondent of the_Jelenkor_, cannot sleep all night because of them," then, indeed, theTown Captain suddenly leaped from his chair, set all his myrmidons inmotion, and by the next day the whole flower-garden and dancing academywas transferred to another forcing bed. Such in those days was theauthority of a newspaper correspondent.... I was therefore no longer amere cipher. I was a something now. And, more than that, I was asomebody also. For it was in those days that I passed my legalexamination, and became a certificated lawyer in the ordinary andcommercial courts. My diploma, indeed, was not _praeclarus_, but at anyrate it was _laudibilis_. The oral _rigorosum_ I passed throughbrilliantly, but in the _scripturistik_ (there's a fine dog Latin wordfor you!) my _Hungarian style_ was not considered satisfactory.
The publication of my legal diploma in the county court was asufficiently dignified excuse for a visit to my native town. With headerect I could now enter the presence of the fairy damsel with thesparkling "eyes like the sea."