Julian Schopflin
A Traveller in Times Past
Patrick Leigh-Fermor: A Time of Gifts; Between the Woods and the Water. London, John Murray, 1977, 1986, 248 pp. and 291 pp.
[...]
Our query is, how realistic was this picture of Hungary between the wars? As far as the physical, "earthly" Hungary is concerned - all that endures - the answer is yes. But as far as the Hungary of the living is concerned, Leigh-Fermor presents something like a fairyland, a strange lifestyle encased in amber. The esteemed reader is, perhaps, aware of the recent history of Hungary (thanks to 1956), but it is doubtful if they perceive that this is, indeed, history: that carefree and lighthearted existence has been utterly swept away.
Or has it? It is the bitter-sweet irony of history (maybe more bitter than sweet) that certain things repeat themselves in a twisted way. Grand shoots and exotic equestrian holidays were being offered to moneyed visitors in Kádár's Hungary of the sixties and seventies. (It was well known that communist bigwigs indulged their snobbery in large-scale shooting parties.) And - surprise, surprise - members of the old aristocracy surfaced thanks to their age-old skills in the field sports, to manage these ventures.
I have had the good fortune of personally experiencing the palpable effect Leigh-Fermor's enchanting tales had on a reader. A friend of mine - a country doctor - was so enamoured by these descriptions that in his enthusiasm he decided to travel to Transylvania with us and follow in Leigh-Fermor's footsteps in his trusty Range Rover. A few caveats were issued by us about the venture, but nothing shook his determination. A joyous journey ensued, during which our friend could be seen with the book in his hand, trying to conjure up the mood of serenity radiating from its pages. Transylvania proved not to be the black hole we had feared: the whole journey was a trip of more-or-less unalloyed pleasure. Except that we found it astounding that hardly anything in the physical state of the land had changed in sixty-three years. (Many other things have drastically changed in Transylvania - but that's another story.)
In sum, the Hungarian people should be grateful to Patrick Leigh-Fermor. Grateful for recreating for us times past; grateful for his noble humanity. The final chord of his book is what he confesses about Magyars and Romanians: "I am the only person I know who has feelings of equal warmth for both these embattled claimants and I wish with fervour they could become friends".
We can say "Amen" to that.
Julian Schopflin
worked in publishing and radio before becoming Hungarian envoy to Sweden and Norway in 1949. Fearing he might become involved in the political show trials, he left his post and fled to England where he has been living ever since. While still in Hungary, he published two volumes of fiction in the 1940s.
