Under The Frog

The worst possible place to be in is “under a frog’s arse down a coal mine.” That’s supposedly a Hungarian proverb, and Tibor Fischer’s 1993 Booker-shortlisted, Betty Trask Award-winning book ‘Under The Frog’ borrows this idea as its title. The title of the book caught my attention while browsing at a bookstore in Bangalore a couple of months ago, and after reading the back cover, which described the book as ‘hilarious’, I decided to buy it. Since work pressures had kept me busy, I managed to pick up the book a few days ago and finished reading it.

‘Under The Frog’ is the story of young Gyuri, a basketball player for the Hungarian Railways, who goes traipsing around the country between 1944 and 1956, trying to avoid the War and the subsequent Communist regime in Hungary. His escapades with people in authority, education, politics, his friend Pataki, and his eternal search for the company of women, are narrated in a style that reminded me of J D Salinger’s ‘The Catcher In The Rye’. It seemed to me, the protagonist here, Gyuri Fischer, was an older East-European version of Salinger’s Holden Caulfied.

Although ‘Under The Frog’ started off slowly, it picked up speed quickly thanks to Tibor Fischer’s humorous writing, which had me chuckling to myself on many occasions. The story aptly captured Hungarian sentiments during the Soviet takeover of their country, yet it stayed away from any melodrama, grief or the bloodshed. The anger, the angst and the bitterness of the Hungarian people were depicted so ruefully by the narrator, and through Gyuri’s never-say-die escapades, that I had no choice but to cheer them all on, wishing myself and telling them that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Perhaps this story is biographical in nature as Tibor Fischer’s Hungarian parents were (reportedly) basketball players, who escaped from Hungary in 1956. Tibor Fischer, who was born in England in 1959, could very well be narrating his father’s life for his readers in a fictional form. Honestly, I hadn’t heard of Tibor Fischer until I noticed and read this book. But, after ‘Under The Frog’, I’m tempted to read more of his writing.

The notion of ecology

“Only within the 20th Century has biological thought been focused on ecology, or the relation of the living creature to its environment. Awareness of ecological relationships is — or should be — the basis of modern conservation programs, for it is useless to attempt to preserve a living species unless the kind of land or water it requires is also preserved. So delicately interwoven are the relationships that when we disturb one thread of the community fabric we alter it all — perhaps almost imperceptibly, perhaps so drastically that destruction follows.”

— Rachel Carson, ‘Essay on the Biological Sciences’ in GOOD READING, 1958; reproduced here from Bill Moyers’ Journal on PBS website.

Good books

Ladányi took out a book – the Analects of Confucius. “Is it any good?” Gyuri questioned.
“Life is too short for good books,” said Ladányi, “one should only read great books.”
“How can you tell if it’s great?”
“If it’s been around for a couple of thousand years, that’s usually a good sign. This isn’t bad.”

It was the last time Gyuri would see Ladáyni. Gyuri had no inkling of that, but years afterwards, re-examining the scene, he suspected that Ladányi knew. “Don’t forget what I said about good books. And read the Bible occasionally. It’s had some good reviews, you know.”

[quoted from Under The Frog by Tibor Fischer]

Children for sale

“According to End Child Prostitution in Asian Tourism, children, sold by destitute parents or abducted by criminal syndicates, are currently being trafficked from Vietnam to Thailand, from Burma to the Pacific Rim countries, and from Nepal to India, where, in the brothels of Mumbai, the fair-skinned girls of Nepal are particularly prized. Some are no more than eight years old.”

– Caroline Moorehead, from Women and Children for Sale, The New York Review of Books, 11 October 2007

[ECPAT website; Combating The Trafficking in Children for Sexual Purposes Q&A PDF]

Learning to live with Big Brother

“These days, data about people’s whereabouts, purchases, behaviour and personal lives are gathered, stored and shared on a scale that no dictator of the old school ever thought possible. Most of the time, there is nothing obviously malign about this. Governments say they need to gather data to ward off terrorism or protect public health; corporations say they do it to deliver goods and services more efficiently. But the ubiquity of electronic data-gathering and processing — and above all, its acceptance by the public — is still astonishing, even compared with a decade ago.”

[from The Economist, 27 Sept 2007, Learning to live with Big Brother]

Mela

Grandmother: (reminiscing) I used to be quite beautiful in my day.

Granddaughter: Yes, grandma. Ma told me. And, you still are.

Grandmother: (hurt) No, don’t joke. (sighs) I’ve grown so old now.

Granddaughter: But you’re still beautiful, grandma. More beautiful than many of my friends. And, with that diamond nose-ring, you’ve still retained your youthful sparkle.

Grandmother: Hmmm… Do you know how I got that nose-ring?

Granddaughter: Didn’t grandpa give it to you?

Grandmother: Yes. You know, I was beautiful then and I wanted to be somebody famous.

Granddaughter: You mean a celebrity… like a film star?

Grandmother: Yes, but women in our family weren’t allowed to enter films. Women from good families didn’t join films in those days. The best we could do was practise music or classical dance.

Granddaughter: Didn’t you learn Kathak?

Grandmother: Yes. But I wasn’t very good at it. I was a bit of a dreamer, you know. I liked to dress up and go see places. I wanted to be the heroine in a beautiful story. But, your grandfather was always busy with work. He never had any time for me.

Granddaughter: So, what did you do all by yourself?

Grandmother: So, my friend Seema and I would dress up and go visit the melas which came to town.

Granddaughter: But, that can’t be too much fun? Surely, you got tired of them?

Grandmother: Oh no. Our melas were no different from the shopping malls you have today. There were many stalls, and many things to see, and places to eat. Seema and I would stop by at all the jewellery stalls and try out the trinkets one by one.

Granddaughter: And, that’s where you bought the nose-ring!

Grandmother: No, no. Those melas didn’t sell diamonds. Diamonds were very expensive. One day we got carried away with so many things to see that we lost track of time. When I got home, your grandfather was waiting there with an angry face.

Granddaughter: Gosh. Did he shout at you?

Grandmother: He was about to, but I quickly showed him the trinkets I had bought at the mela and how beautiful I looked in them. I had to use a bit of charm, you see… a woman’s best weapon in those days.

Granddaughter: Still is, grandma, still is. Then what happened?

Grandmother: Your grandfather just walked off without saying a word. I thought he was very cross with me because he didn’t speak to me that night and he went to work early the next morning.

Granddaughter: Oh… All because of a day at the mela! What an awful man!

Grandmother: But, in the evening, he presented me with this beautiful diamond nose-ring. And, you know what he said? “My beautiful wife certainly deserves something better than a trinket.” And, he smiled mischievously at me. And, you know, I knew, all was well. I’ve worn that diamond nose-ring ever since.

Granddaughter: Ooh… it’s so romantic, grandma. Someone should make a film out of your story.

Grandmother: (smiles) Yes, maybe someone will. But someone else will have to be the heroine of that story. I’ve got mine. Now tell me dear, those are lovely earrings you’re wearing. So, what’s your story?