Magda Szabó; translated by Len Rix
The Door by Magda Szabó translated from the Hungarian by Len Rix, takes place in Hungary over a period of two decades—from the mid 1960s to the mid 1980s. The narrator and her husband are intellectuals who earn a living through their writing. Emerence, an elderly woman with a reputation for honesty, cleanliness, and hard work, enters their lives as their housekeeper.
The story unfolds through the intense, first-person narrative of the “writer lady” who remains nameless until the last few pages of the novel. She is an old woman, plagued with guilt. Framing the novel is a recurring nightmare of her struggle to open a locked door. The novel takes the form of a confession in an extended flashback, which she reveals in the opening pages: “I must speak out. I killed Emerence. The fact I was trying to save her rather than destroy her changes nothing.”
The crux of the narrative lies in the contentious relationship between the narrator and Emerence. The two women are a study in contrasts. The narrator is educated, well-read, cultured, values the work of the mind, regularly attends church, and believes in scientific and political progress. She is also selfish, self-absorbed, and completely dependent on Emerence for the most basic maintenance of her home.
Emerence is illiterate. She disdains intellectual activity; distrusts doctors, scientists, and politicians; eschews organized religion but shows considerable compassion toward the weak, whether human or animal; has risked her life in the past by harboring Jews, Russians, and others hiding from authorities. She values manual labor and places more faith in animals than in humans, declaring animals don’t inform on others, or lie, or steal. She is loyal to a fault, stubborn, incorrigible, opinionated, guards her privacy and home with a vengeance, and is prone to histrionics and scathing outbursts. She treats the narrator as a wayward child in need of guidance and care.
From the outset, the narrator is curious to ferret out the details of Emerence’s private life. She fabricates scenarios, some more nefarious than others, about Emerence’s past and the contents of her home. The growth in mutual trust eventually prompts Emerence to reveal details of her past. She even does the unthinkable by privileging the narrator with a tour of her home. She is devastated when she learns that the one person she trusted has betrayed her, exposing her to public humiliation.
The narrative raises a series of questions but does not offer easy answers: Is the life of the mind more beneficial to society than a life of manual labor? Is it more important to adhere to the rituals of organized religion than it is to serve others with compassion and with no expectation of acknowledgement or reward? Are we ever justified in betraying a trust? Do we honor an individual’s choice in how he/she wants to die? Or do we intervene with the best intentions and deprive them of choice? How do we assist the elderly while preserving their dignity?
This is a haunting novel which unfolds slowly, peeling away layers of Emerence’s past while gradually building up the suspense to its inexorable climax. The prose is economical and precise. The tone is ominous. It is a testament to the impressive quality of Szabó’s writing that, just as the narrator is haunted by the mystery that is Emerence, the reader is left plummeting the depths of this novel without ever fully exhausting it.
Highly recommended.