Coming of age story about a girl in Eastern Europe, recently orphaned and brought to live with the grandmother she didn't know she had (somehow) The girl, Emma, also somehow has almost no idea what happened in the past in her country, or at least acts naive. The writing, in translation, is nice for the most part, but the story is disjointed and makes all sorts of unfulfilled 'promises', so that the book remains really unsatisfying all the way through. It acts like a light magical realism book, except all the magical bits seem tacked on or undeveloped, and while Emma has seemingly not been raised in a magic-accepting environment before moving in with her grandma, she is so unfazed and uninterested in her grandma's 'magic' and superstitions that it is not really plausible. Promising book, but needs some serious editing and reworking. ( )

Jobb, sokkal jobb könyv ez, mint a Fehér király. Dragomán nyelve rengeteget tisztult, érezni vélem ezen a regényen, hogy többet húztak ki belőle, mint amennyi végül is megmaradt – ez pedig szerintem a legtöbb nagy művészi alkotás ismérve.

A Máglya cselekménye két fő szálon bonyolódik. Egyrészt itt van a mágikus vonal: Emma, a 13 éves intézetis lány nagymamájához kerül, aki (ez elég hamar szemet szúr a legfelületesebb olvasónak is) meglehetősen boszorkánygyanús – igaz, varázslati palettájának túlnyomó részét az úgynevezett háztartási mágia adja, úgymint: hogyan főzzünk még finomabb diólikőrt meg szilvalekvárt*. Ez a szál a beavatás-regények klasszikus sémáját követi: a fiatal tanonc hányattatásai, miközben egyre többet ért meg a mester titkaiból. A másik vonal a történelmi rész. Dragomán könyve egy meg nem nevezett, de Erdéllyel azonosítható környezetben játszódik, kevés idővel a diktatúra bukása után, az ilyen-olyan demokráciába való átmenet rögös útján. Ebben a közegben a szereplők piszkos kis titkai hangsúlyosak: mit tettek, mit nem tettek a megelőző rendszerekben, és mennyire hajlandóak hurcolni ezeket a terheket. A két elemet a kiválóan megválasztott cím köti össze: a máglya képe egyrészt a boszorkánylét bizonyos kockázataira hívja fel a figyelmet, ugyanakkor utal arra a tűzre is, amit az első fejezetek egyikében az árvaház lakói gyújtanak a diktátor-tábornok rekvizítumaiból, amint annak bukásáról értesülnek. A történet legmélyebb, legelgondolkodtatóbb szintjét ez az elem adja: az új világ félelemből, dühből és számításból megsemmisít mindent, ami a múlttal köti össze, ám mégis, ebben a megsemmisített múltban történt vétkek alapján akar erkölcsileg megítélni másokat – spiclinek, szekusnak bélyegezve azt, akit el akar intézni. Ennek érdekében teremti újra a múltat – a saját szája íze szerint.

Bár végig éreztem, hogy nagy regényt olvasok, mégis, Dragomán talán túl nagy kockázatot vállalt akkor, amikor a regény letisztult, szikár kifejezésmódját egy kamaszlány én-elbeszélő szájába adja. A vele való azonosulás számomra olyan akadályt jelentett, amit nem volt könnyű megugrani… Őszintén szólva amikor az első ötven oldal után letettem picit, nem voltam benne biztos, hogy igazán ki akarom nyitni újra. Aztán persze megtettem, és jól tettem. Érdemes volt vele iszapbirkózni tovább.

* Bár akadnak keményebb skilljei is (gólemet is tud!), azért Voldemorttal az ő helyében nem kekeckednék. ( )

György Dragomán's The Bone Fire takes place in an unnamed Eastern European nation along two timelines: World War II and the fall of the Iron Curtain. This story is bleak, as one might expect given its settings. In the more recent timeline, a girl is removed from an orphanage by a grandmother she's never met, due to a rift between the girl's mother and her grandmother. Now that her parents have died in an auto accident, this is the only hope she has of family, but her grandmother is a curt, unsettling woman—and perhaps a witch, of the "unnerving wise woman who can influence the flow of events" type. The girl's dead grandfather visits the home she shares with her grandmother, and he is an oddly comforting character. The World War II part of the narrative focuses on the Grandmother's childhood attempt to hide her best friend and two of that friend's relatives, all Jewish, when the deportations begin.

Regardless of timeline, this isn't a comfortable world to live in. The grandparents were accused of collaborating with the secret police during the dictatorship, the grandmother is distrusted because of both her powers and her combative demeanor. The girl herself speaks little and fears much for many reasons: the loss of her parents and the tensions in their relationship before they died, the unfamiliarity of her new home, her inability to fit in with her peers, and her grandmother's strictness and—perhaps?—powers.

Trust is in short supply in this novel. The town the girl is taken to by her grandmother was the site of an authoritarian massacre shortly before the end of the dictatorship. The archives of the secret police were purged, so no one can determine the roles their friends and neighbors may have played during the years of oppression.

I began reading this novel in March, then put it aside about two-thirds of the way through, feeling overwhelmed by its bleak perspective and slow action. Others' reviews had me convinced, however, that it was a book I should complete, so I picked it up again yesterday and read through the last third, telling myself I could skim if necessary. There was no need for skimming—in the last third of the novel the pace picks ups and conflicts come to a head. We see the way violence can engender violence, the way those united in fighting oppression can turn on one another after the immediate goal of that fight is reached. It's a book that leaves the reader sitting motionless, reflecting on what it means to be human and how easily our best intentions can transform into something nightmarish.

If you're someone who enjoys light reading, romance, a happy ending, this is most definitely not the book for you. If you enjoy pondering the interplay of past and present and the ways some of our worst historical moments have shaped us, this is a book you'll treasure.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher; the opinions are my own. ( )

For more reviews and bookish posts please visit: https://www.ManOfLaBook.com

The Bone Fire by György Dragomán (translated by Ottilie Mulzet) looks through the eyes of a 13 year old orphan at a country after a revolution. Mr. Dragomán is an award-winning Hungarian author and a translator.

Emma is thirteen years old living in a war-torn country. After the bloodied revolution has ended, Emma found herself without family and home, until she is sent to live with the grandmother she never knew.

Grief stricken Emma learns her grandmother’s everyday magic. Through it all she has to deal with a new school, teenage drama, family secrets, and try and break a circle of never-ending grudges which usually end in blood and death.

I didn’t know anything about The Bone Fire (Máglya) by György Dragomán, however I do enjoy books from other countries and thought this would be a good one. At first I was disappointed, in general I do not enjoy stream of consciousness books, and the point of view of a thirteen year old girl is not up my alley.

In other words, not my type of book.

This book, however, grew on me quickly. The story is set in an unidentified Eastern European country, after a bloodied revolution has ended. The ascetics that the author build are fascinating, the details hidden in the shadows are the true gems for the observant reader.

Emma, the thirteen year old protagonist, world that is shattered over and over again. Her parents’ death to her grandmother’s sublime magical skills, to her own survivability. In light of the country’s turmoil, Emma finds out the “truth” has many meanings, sometimes no meaning at all. Albeit, many times it doesn’t even matter since someone else decided on what “truth” actually is – much like today’s climate. Acting on such “truths” can, nevertheless, have significant consequences even for the innocent, if there are such people in revolutions.

This book reads like a Cold War fairy-tale, of the old kind where happy endings were far and few in between. I enjoyed the surreal, and abstract world seen through the eyes of a child, forced to grow up quickly.

I thought some of the book could have used a bit of heavy handed editing, but what do I know? ( )