July 2008: Sándor Márai: Embers

[pontalba]

Oh..yes inheritance. Well, actually all of this took place only a little over a hundred years ago, but I wonder since there were no children of the marriage the estate probably would have reverted to his closest male relative. Perhaps with a stipend for the widow, and she may or may not have had usufruct of the property for her lifetime.

 

[silverseason]

We have had a lot of interesting speculation and interpretation here with regard to the three people and their relationship. The General, it seems to me, was rewriting the past even as he brooded on it. Maybe Konrad was his sincere friend. Maybe Krisztina was a sincere (if not totally loving) wife. People change as their circumstances change. People are attracted who would rather not be and then find they can't handle it. The General was one who did not change. Konrad was still his "friend" even if he hated him. Krisztina was still his wife even if he wouldn't go near her for eight years.

Past all this interpretation, I am still wondering why Marai chose to tell the story the way that he did, as well as what story he was trying to tell.

One thing I know for sure. This book has stimulated more and better commentary that the Hemingway novel.

 

[pontalba]

I still think friendship and it's nature is a large part of the theme, but not the total package, in a way it seems to be a sort of cautionary tale...the exact caution I'm not completely sure of, but at least partially to caution the 'dangers' of having a friend, or a so-called friend whose circumstances are so very different from your own. The differences between Henrik's and Konrad's financial set up was an invitation to resentment given Henrik's unconsciousness of his position, and Konrad's total consciousness of same.

I say 'so-called friend' as a friend would never do what Konrad did, betray his friend in such a manner.

That may be totally un-politically correct, but I think it is the case. Henrik became involved with unscrupulous people and was an innocent to a great extent and didn't have the emotional strength to deal with the fallout.

 

[Peder]

Past all this interpretation, I am still wondering why Marai chose to tell the story the way that he did, as well as what story he was trying to tell.

Silverseason, Exactly! I couldn't have put it better myself!

 

[Peder]

Just checked some dates.
Sigmund Freud, died in 1939.
Embers was written in 1942.
What I'll call pop psychologizing may have been 'in the air' and Marai may have wanted to incorporate it as a new and timely topic in a novel. So we get the detailed look inside the workings of Henrik's mind as he wonders about events and tries to unravel people's motives.
Maybe. But pure speculation. :whistling:

 

[oskylad]

It's interesting that, as best I recall, Konrad never denies any of the General's allegations. Nor does he show remorse or ask forgiveness. If the General was not seeing reality correctly, you would think Konrad would make some comment in his own defence.

Krisztina may have felt these things. That may be why she called for the General from her death bed.

The General expresses guilt - at least toward the way he treated Krisztina.

But Konrad expresses nothing at all.

 

[Peder]

It's interesting that, as best I recall, Konrad never denies any of the General's allegations. Nor does he show remorse or ask forgiveness. If the General was not seeing reality correctly, you would think Konrad would make some comment in his own defence.

Krisztina may have felt these things. That may be why she called for the General from her death bed.

The General expresses guilt - at least toward the way he treated Krisztina.

But Konrad expresses nothing at all.

Well, Konrad does present a puzzle that needs explanation.

One of the structural features of the novel that I only realized during reread seems to be the fact (as I read it) that none of the characters is aware, for a fact, of what the other characters knows or thinks. The General, by himself, pieces together what must have happened, but he doesn't know for sure. He only has logical conclusions. Which is why he asks Konrad if Krisztina knew before hand what Konrad was intending. An answer would have given him his first factual corroboration, one way or the other, of what he has been thinking. But Konrad won't answer, so the General still doesn't know for sure.

Krisztina doesn't know whether there might have been any conversation between Konrad and the General before Konrad disappeared. And the General doesn't wish to raise the topic with her, to allow her to keep her self-respect (or words to that effect). So she finishes her days not knowing at all what happened in the woods or at the end or how much the General knew.

And Konrad has been away, so he definitely doesn't know of the General's or Krisztina's visit to his apartment, or what the General has concluded in his thinking. And in fact, the General never actually saw Konrad taking aim at him (he only sensed and deduced it, as I reread it), so Konrad never knew that the general had sensed that he had aimed his gun at him. He found out for the first time during the monologue, the way I read it.

Konrad returns, according to the book, only for the vague reason to resolve an open issue in his life, without saying what that was or how he was going to do that. Initially, he seems unaware that the General has deciphered the events and he claims he left no debts behind when he left and he presents himself as having done nothing wrong in leaving. The General says not so, and proceeds to tell him of his analysis. Which seems to take Konrad by surprise. So, yes, as you say Konrad is left with no defense and does not challenge the General.

I guess that convicts him. But the premise of hatred still seems far-fetched to me. The General says he should have known it when they were cadets and Konrad declined to accept any of the General's money or other offers of gifts. "He who won't accept any part, wants the whole" is the way the General puts it, and that leads to hatred, as I recall. I can't accept that. In the case of Konrad I suppose the story tells us it leads to a lucky hit. But in general I think the notion is far-fetched and as fictional as the story.

 

[Peder]

I still think friendship and it's nature is a large part of the theme, but not the total package, in a way it seems to be a sort of cautionary tale...the exact caution I'm not completely sure of, but at least partially to caution the 'dangers' of having a friend, or a so-called friend whose circumstances are so very different from your own.

Pontalba, Yes, definitely! I like that suggestion that it may be a cautionary tale. It would be hard to call it a success story, it seems to me. In fact it is more like a total disaster for everyone involved and something to have been avoided. The General may argue that his life has not been in vain, and may try to see himself in a position of dignity at the end. But what a cost that has taken in his life! So I don't think Marai was seriously recommending that as a good outcome.
If one agrees that the outcome was undesirable then that is the first part of having a cautionary tale. But then, as you suggest, it is less than clear what the caution is against. There are so many possibilities. I lean toward pinning it on the General himself, even though it is true that Konrad should not have pointed the gun at him. As has been suggested, including by you yourself earlier, the General could or should have just moved on. Why he got stuck as he did is less than clear, but seems to me to be part of the problem.

 

[pontalba]

Perhaps a clue can be found in the true translation of the title of the book. Since it always helps to investigate the author themselves, I googled. The first link I came upon was [or course] a Wiki article Sándor Márai - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Here is a section.

His 1942 book Embers (Hungarian title: A gyertyák csonkig égnek, meaning "The Candles Burn Up to the Stump") expresses a nostalgia for the bygone multi-ethnic, multicultural society of the Austro-Hungarian Empire

So while it is all very interesting that the men warm their hands at the fire, it in all reality doesn't reflect the intention of the author.

From another site. http://www.frankfurt.matav.hu/angol/irok/marai/elet.htm

Novelist, short story and memoir writer, poet, journalist and playwright. A true cosmopolitan, he was a protector of civil values; he died in exile, and his later writings could only be published in Hungary after the downfall of Communism. His work can be related to that of Thomas Mann and Gyula Krúdy. "This is the Hungarian middle-class whose way of life I was born into, observed, came to know and scrutinised in all its features to the very roots, and now I see the whole disintegrating. Perhaps this is my life's, my writing's sole duty: to delineate the course of this disintegration." (Sándor Márai)

Bolding mine to draw attention to his preoccupation of Class.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here is an interesting review. Dan Schneider on Sandor Marai's Embers
Review of Embers, by Sándor Márai
Copyright © by Dan Schneider, 7/29/05
A small piece of same.

The book is really about obsession, grief, and mature acceptance, as well what human beings do with their brief time alive. The how the story unfolds is far more important than what it unfolds.

From same review...

By contrast Krisztina and Konrad are pallid, but necessarily so, since they are filtered through the General’s eyes. And Konrad, it seems, knows this, and knows the futility of denying the General’s queries and accusations. Whether or not he actually did conspire to kill his friend, at the behest of Krisztina, and whether or not they were lovers, which seems likely, is beside the point, as Konrad seems to know, in his brief words, and subtle limning of actions, the General as well as the General knows him, or better. Perhaps he decides to let the General have his delusions of conspiracy, for it is his final revenge upon a man who he could not hide forever from, who bullied him as a friend, and constantly asserted his superiority at every opportunity.

Again, bolding mine.

Anyhow, I thought it'd be interesting to have a fresh outside view introduced.

 

[oskylad]

Perhaps a clue can be found in the true translation of the title of the book. Since it always helps to investigate the author themselves, I googled. The first link I came upon was [or course] a Wiki article Sándor Márai - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Here is a section.

Quote:
His 1942 book Embers (Hungarian title: A gyertyák csonkig égnek, meaning "The Candles Burn Up to the Stump") expresses a nostalgia for the bygone multi-ethnic, multicultural society of the Austro-Hungarian Empire

So while it is all very interesting that the men warm their hands at the fire, it in all reality doesn't reflect the intention of the author.

After they have stood before the embers of the dying fire:

They both take a last glance around the room, as if knowing that neither of them will ever set foot in it again. The General blinks, and seems to be looking for something. "The candles," he murmurs distractedly as his glance falls on the smoking stubs in their holders on the mantel. "Look at that, the candles are burned right down."

The fire is just dying embers, the candles have burned to the stump, but in their last words with each other they both agree that "what gives our lives their meaning is the passion that ... burns in us forever".

 

[pontalba]

I rather took "The Candles Burn Up to the Stump" to mean that the men are burned out and passionless at that point. The hatred of the years has in fact used them up so to speak.
I detected no passion in either of them as they parted, in fact I wonder if that is why Henrik says that it doesn't matter whether or not her picture is displayed any longer as it elicits no emotion in him any longer, IOW it can't hurt him any longer.

 

[Peder]

From Pontalba's citation

The book is really about obsession, grief, and mature acceptance, as well what human beings do with their brief time alive. The how the story unfolds is far more important than what it unfolds.

And Oskylad's citation

"what gives our lives their meaning is the passion that ... burns in us forever".

To me, the bolded words are what bound the question, because when does passion go over into obsession?

And I think the answer found in Embers is somewhat ambiguous, because support for both interpretations can be found.

The General started out as a fun-loving light-hearted cadet who enjoyed his partying and his nights out, and ended up as the vengeful person we see, groping for a meaning to his life.

There is the passage where he nicely describes the passage from the concerns of youth to the acceptance of old age.

We age slowly. First our pleasure in life and other people declines, everything gradually becomes so real, we understand the significance of everything, everything repeats itself in a kind of troubling boredom. It's the function of age. We know a glass is only a glass. A man, poor creature, is only mortal, no matter what he does. Then our bodies age: not all at once. First it is the eyes, or the legs, or the heart. We age by iinstallments. And then suddenly our spirits begin to age: the body may have grown old, but our souls still yearn and remember and search and celebrate and long for joy. and when the longing for joy disaappears, all that are left are memories or vanity, and then, finally we are truly old. One day we wake up and rub our eyes and do not know why we have woken . . . . Nothing surprising can ever happen again . . . there's nothing we want anymore, either good or bad . . . That is old age. There's still some spark inside us, a memory, a goal, someone we would like to see again, something we would like to say or learn, and we know the time will come, but then suddenly it is no longer important to learn the truth and answer to it as we had assumed in all the decades of waiting. Gradually we understand the world and then we die.

That is a passage that nicely supports Pontalba's citation about grief and mature acceptance. But then separately one can find the General saying to the man he still calls friend (!)

I have to acknowledge a discovery that both surprises and disturbs me: we are still, even now, friends.
Evidently there is no external power that can alter human relationships. You killed something inside me, you ruined my life, but we are still friends. And tonight I am going to kill something inside you, and then I shall let you go back to London or the tropics or to hell, and yet still you will be my friend."

I think that quote describes revenge perfectly, but also certainly speaks more to obsession than to passion. The General may have both obsession and passion, but I think he has departed from calm acceptance of a life once passionate into being a monomaniac who is obsessed with revenge.

 

[pontalba]

Yes. Peder, I agree it turned into an obsession, no doubt about that really, but in the very end that obsession burned them both out, and at least the General realizes it. Perhaps Konrad realized it a long time ago, and that is why he comes to the General. To mark the end.

"The second question," says the General, his hand still holding the door. "Namely, what did we win with all our intelligence and our pride and our presumption? Has the true meaning of our lives not been the agony of longing for a woman who is dead?"

If that isn't obsession, I don't know what is.

 

[Peder]

Embers - The Moral

Embers - The Moral

I think I can finally stop obsessing about this novel, because finally I believe that obsession itself is the central subject of the novel and also finally the basis for its simple theme. And I specifically call out obsession alone, not love, not friendship, not honor and not duty.

Why? I think there are three major considerations to be sorted out.

First of all let us agree, that there were no doubt two components to the General's bond of friendship for Konrad. First, there was the almost mystical feeling of friendship which attracted the two young men to each other in the first place. And, second, there was the sealing of this friendship for all time with a solemn handshake. In a similar manner, the General no doubt had a feeling of undying love for Krisztina which was, in addition, sealed by their marriage vows to each other. The General would later speak of a passion which was burnt into his soul, and I think we can accept that description of it for both his friendship and his love for the two people in his life. One might even concede that is a highly noble and honorable way to view things, fully consistent with his own high moral standards.

But then, as the second major consideration, there came a point when the General convinced himself that his friend and probably his wife had colluded to kill him. At that point one might plausibly argue that any bonds of friendship or matrimony were broken and that the General was relieved of any obligations toward either his friend or his wife. The General, however, tells us otherwise. He says he was surprised to find, after all his thought, that he still regarded Konrad as his friend, no matter what he had done. And I would say that he similarly could not extinguish his love for Krisztina, no matter what she had done. He said whatever she might have asked from him he would gladly have done for her. Is that not a man steadfast in love and friendship? Yes it is.

But now the third consideration. It is clear, that if the General had viewed his obligation of love and friendship as terminated by the attempt on his life, then he would probably not have spent much more time thinking about the matter, but would have put it behind him and no longer regarded himself as bound to his friend and wife by any duty at all. But I think it is equally clear -- and this is the crucial point -- that nothing required him to continue to mull over the matter once he had reached his conclusion that he had been the subject of a murder plot, even if he still could not break his feelings of friendship and love. I do not think that honor or duty compelled it, nor love nor friendship. He concluded it had happened and that should have been the practical end to it. What was he thinking in trying to go further?

The answer is that at exactly that point he began obsessing about revenge and it was his obsession that was the ruin of his life, He blamed Konrad for ruining his life. Not so! Konrad certainly ruined their friendship, but I would say that he himself ruined his life. And he did that by refusing to let go of his own anger. By turning it into an obsession for revenge.

So the story is about obsession.

And the moral of the story? Perhaps that one should move on with life; obsession with the past will only ruin one's life.

 

[oskylad]

Well done!

And Konrad ...?

 

[Peder]

Well done!

And Konrad ...?

Many thanks!

And Konrad? I just don't know what to say. There are still just so many loose ends about the story.

The General observes that Konrad is wearing a suit of fine fabric, so seemingly Konrad has prospered and has moved on with his life, presumably even while still remembering his love for Krisztina. But why he left without Krisztina still baffles me. I guess the original plan called for staying, with the General out of the way, but why then the discussion of the tropics during dinner?

The General said he would have still done anything for Krisztina if she had but asked, and I believe that. But why he did not go to her is beyond me. I suppose pride is the answer, or anger, but if he still loved her, I think he could have showed it better. She might have asked for him sooner also, but again pride or shame might be the answer.

Why Konrad returned is very vague. Just one last look at old places while passing through? Maybe. But I can't really fit any of that together.

Mainly though, I would have expected that Konrad's agreement with the General, that he had not lived his life in vain -- especially being the last thought expressed in the book -- would have been the key to understanding the book. But it just doesn't do it for me, mainly I suppose because I don't see the General's wasted years as being consumed by love.

So my best shot is obsession. But I would truly be glad to hear how others can see ways to put the pieces together. There are so many loose ends, the way I see it.

 

[Peder]

Embers - Alternative Story

Embers - Alternative Story

Here's another possibility, based on some of the same fragments and some others lying around. Maybe this one will finally burn my obsession all the way down.

Suppose, as a basic premise, that the General's imagination ran away with him and there was no murder plot and that Konrad never pointed a gun at him. How might the story go then?

To begin, Konrad and Krisztina are having a simple affair with no sinister designs on the General's life or wealth. Kristiztina helps Konrad furnish their love nest very nicely from her own funds and they enjoy themselves there. Konrad however is aware that the General will find out sooner or later, while Krisztina is more of a daredevil and starry-eyed and doesn't care about the risk. Anyway, Konrad really doesn't like the army or the aristocratic military lifestyle and goes so far as to show his disinterest in the traditional hunt, which the General does notice. So he thinks about surrendering his commission and going into the private world with some venture in the tropics. And since he realizes that his affair with Krisztina can't go on forever, he leaves Krisztina and tries to get as far away as possible. So he goes to the tropics and leaves everything and everyone behind, perhaps hoping to forget everything and start over again. Eventually he prospers and returns to London to live.

When Kristina quickly learns that Konrad is nowhere to be seen after the hunt, she stares hard at the General to see if he might know anything about it, for example might have discovered the affair. When she walks into Konrad's flat, and sees the General, she realizes the General will put two and two together and that she has not much choice but to withdraw herself from him in extreme embarrassment and run for cover to try to weather the situation. Realizing that Konrad has left her in the lurch, and given into his fear of discovery, she calls him a coward.

Konrad prospers in the civilian world and many years later decides to revisit scenes of his early years. He goes to Vienna and he decides to stop off and, all innocence, visit the General to renew old times. They sit down to dinner and Konrad learns for the first time that the General has concocted this insane story about a murder plot and, not so incidentally, learned about the affair. Confronted with an apparent cold-blooded maniac sitting in front of him, he decides the best course is to humor him and nod at all appropriate points in the monologue, and not to say anything that might inflame him. He gets out of there as quickly as possible without even saying why he had come, perhaps glad not to be shot.

Not a comedy of errors, but a tragedy of errors.

 

[oskylad]

If the alternative story were true, why would Konrad have shown the book about the tropics to Krisztina beforehand? It was apparently something more than just an idle read, and suggests he was already thinking about heading there.

The thought had crossed my mind that Konrad was contemplating escaping to the tropics with Krisztina, but never planned to kill the General. The next day Konrad found himself with an opportunity to kill the General that he never expected, debated whether that might be a better plan, and chose not to do it. Or else the idea never crossed Konrad's mind and the General only imagined Konrad was thinking of killing him.

But why would Konrad be showing the book to Krisztina in front of the General unless he expected the General would not be around to interfere with his plans? Why not just give her the book privately?

 

[Peder]

Well, I don't know why he would be talking with Krisztina about the tropics in front of the General, under either scenario. There would be nothing sinister in his resigning his commission, although it might lead to an argument with the General, so I can't explain his lack of caution either way.
Perhaps all that 'happened' at the hunt was that Konrad finally realized that this sort of blood sport, involving the killing of animals, was really not for him. The general was inspired by the ritual killing of the goat, perhaps Konrad would not have been. So maybe it was simply the hunt itself that triggered Konrad's decision to leave. Slender, but possible.

The book gives us the General's view of the matter while telling us next to nothing of what Konrad or Krisztina thought. On the other hand, the alternative story suggests what they might have been thinking and doing, while deliberately setting completely aside what was going on inside the General's head. Obviously the alternative story depends much more on our suppositions about things that are not in the book.

Perhaps one might say that the book presents the prosecution's case for attempted murder, while the alternative story is the defense case arguing for innocence, or at least reasonable doubt.

 

[pontalba]

I keep coming back to the look on Krisztina's face when Henrik came in the room after the hunt. [p.150]

She stared at me for a long moment, wide-eyed, and those seconds were almost as drawn out and as eloquent as the moments that morning in the forest when I stood still, waiting to see whether you would say something or squeeze the trigger. She scrutinized my face as if her life depended on finding out what I was thinking if I was thinking...if there was something I knew...At that moment, knowledge was more important than life itself. The thing that is always the most important--more important than the prey--is to know what the creature we have chosen as our victim thinks of us....She looked into my eyes as if she were conducting an interrogation.

That should be indictment enough.

I do like your scenario though Peder. But I have to trust Henrik's instincts about what happened at the hunt and the above.