DDR: The Adventures of Sindbad by Gyula Krúdy

 

This has been on the Been Meaning To list for a very long time...probably since I first "discovered" Central European Classics, which has turned into one of my favorite imprints. (Some of whose titles have migrated to New York Review Books, another favorite imprint.) 

xxiv + 208 = 232 pages...so a quick one (while he's away).

Day 1 (DDRD 3,220) August 27, 2026

Read to page 20. This hasn't really caught me up yet, but there have been some nice bits of writing, so here's hoping.

Day 2 (DDRD 3,221) August 28, 2026

Read to page 65.

"...he thought of the man whom women had cheated, stolen from and discarded, men whom women had watched with interest, wondering when they would put a bullet through their brains...." (33)

Not very nice (👆), of course, but...you know.

And isn't this lovely?

"Then suddenly her expression brightened and a timid, hopeful smile transformed her whole expression: it was as if two fireflies had raised their wings in the pupils of her eyes." (61-62)

I'm getting into this now. Krúdy has some great, odd descriptions...and some VERy odd plot twists...as when Sinbad dies and chooses to come back as a sprig of a plant. BTW, this book was translated by George Szirtes, who did one of Krasznahorkai's books (maybe more than one).

Day 3 (DDRD 3,222) August 29, 2026

Read to page 101.

Mmm-hmm.

"She almost had more to do with the other world than with the present one…" (97) Said of an old servant who had seen her employer's pass away "one by one." It reminds me of a comment that William Blake's wife said about him:  "I have very little of Mr. Blake's company; he is always in Paradise." Kind of true of my daughter, Jacqueline...and at least a little bit true of me as well.

Sindbad, who is still dead, has returned to visit a former lover. As he is speaking to her we are told that his voice sounded "of leaves and shadow" (98), and when he strokes her brow "she felt it like an autumn breeze." (99) This reminds me of something I say to Jacqueline and Joe. I don't want them to be frightened when I die or to miss me too much, so I tell them that when I die I will go to heaven and that they can still talk to me anytime they want to, but I won't be able to answer them directly. However I will be able to hear them, and I will place my hand on their shoulders, and they'll be able to feel it and know I am there and watching out for them.

😢

Day 4 (DDRD 3,223) August 30, 2026

Read to page 167. So tomorrow is probably going to be it. Although I'm actually wanting to read more today, so today might be it.

"...that long-extinct volcano, his heart...." (126)

I met some friends for coffee this morning. They'd recently returned from a trip to Canada and were talking about the mountains and glaciers they had seen and how beautiful they were. Somewhere in the course of the conversation Craig made reference to tarns ("A tarn (or corrie loch) is a mountain lake, pond or pool, formed in a cirque (or "corrie") excavated by a glacier." https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tarn_(lake) ). After we parted I went home and started reading Sindbad and almost immediately read this:

And I'd never heard or seen this word before Craig mentioned it. Do do do do, do do do do.

"Is it not the case that everyone would soonest hear the story he believes in his heart of hearts, the one where he dreams his own life?" (151)

Day 5 (DDRD 3,224) August 31, 2026

Read to page 208, The End.

"'Life,' thought Sindbad. 'Frivolous, holy, holy and wearisome life! How nice it would be to start again!'applies.

Yep.

"Any man who places his trust in women is a fool...." (178)

Which is of course--as have other previous quotes shared-- more than a little bit misogynistic. And I do sincerely hate misogyny. So why is it that when I read statements like this it causes a tremor of acknowledgment and a chuckle of recognition? Maybe  I've just been unlucky enough to encounter women to whom this applies Come to think of it, though, it applies to every woman I've been romantically involved with. Hmmmm.

On a happier note, this: "What you have loved remains yours: all that caused you unhappiness, that for which you cried in your pillow for, which you died...." (185)

Well...happier....

There were three small sticky notes on the last page of this book:

Kind of hard to read, but it looks more like summary than commentary. Why would someone do that, I wonder?

I think I need more Hungarian in me.