It was in Hungary that I began to thirst for English translations of native writers. I not only found several examples of Hungarian writers, but I also enjoyed the writing and humor in the fiction – qualities evident in Rejtő (2009/2005)'s novel. However, you’d have to read the material on the back of the book to know that he died in 1943 and that he liked to make fun of “of the detective novels that had their heyday at the time” – material I don’t have access to.
From the first
paragraph, though – “When Maud returned to her room, she saw a man emerge from
her wardrobe. Dressed in pyjamas and wearing a smart green lampshade on his
head, the stranger beamed a friendly smile at her” (p. 5) – I was ready for
fun, and well rewarded. In fact, one of the more hilarious points of the book concerns
the narrator’s various references to “Felix
Crickley, the governor’s son” (p. 100; first mention p. 5), who introduces himself as ““Felix
Van Der Gullen”” (p. 5; see pp. 6-7, 24-25): “the lunatic stranger” (p. 5),
“the mad stranger” (Ibid), “the insolent stranger” (p. 9), “the cheeky
stranger” (pp. 10, 36; cf p. 38), “the impertinent stranger” (pp. 10, 12, 25),
“the hunted game” (p. 38; cf p. 59), and “The Servant of Destiny” (p. 159).
Felix, too, shows his
insouciance by referring to people in terms of their shoes. Specifically, ““Chief
Inspector Elder” (p. 23 [first mention]), wearing “round-capped manufactured
shoes” (p. 23; cf p. 28), becomes “Round-Capped Shoes” (pp. 23, 25, 27). Then
Maud (first mention p. 5), with “buckled walking shoes” (p. 23; cf pp. 24-25),
turns into “Walking Shoes” (p. 25). However, while he calls Martin (first
appearance pp. 131-132) Boots (p. 131), of greater hilarity are Felix’s
thoughts on being confused as Martin (see pp. 33-34; cf pp. 37, 48).
Funnier still are the
various problems that arise which can be put into groups. The first concerns
events that bring people to the Grand Hotel, cases of: blackmail (see pp. 78-79,
92-96, 124, 152-157), theft (see pp. 143-144, 132, 136-138), a runaway groom
(see pp. 5, 22, 99-101), and the attempted murder of Mr Bruns (see pp. 142-143,
146; first mention p. 16). The second involves unplanned for events that take place in the hotel
during the quarantine: the murders of Dr Ranke (see pp. 23-26, 155-157; first mention p. 24) and Mrs
Villiers (see pp. 138-141, 158; first mention p. 17). The last, however, concerns planned for events
by hotel employees to steal valuables from guests (see pp. 33-34), and the owners
to defraud guests of money (see pp. 125-126, 154-155, 157).
It’s possible that
having all of these various crimes in one whodunit may be atypical of the detective
novels Rejtő
(2009/2005) pokes fun at. Felix[1], however, is the runaway whose inopportune
attempts to hide make him privy to many of those secrets (see pp. 33-34, 110-112,
131-132, 143-144, 157).
Poor Mr Vangold (first mention p. 15),
though! Twice, he’s detained on suspicion of the murders because he owns items
connected to them (see pp. 49-153, 141).
In general, however, I
got the sense of a movie or TV show being played out (see especially pp. 15-21,
120-121, 135-136, 151-160) which fits with the writer’s background as a “prolific
author of cabaret skits” (material on the back of the book), while the short
chapters kept the pace fast and the comedy fresh; another strength is the dialogue.
Overall, then, I really enjoyed Reijtő (2009/2005)’s Quarantine in the Grand Hotel! It’s just funny!
[1] Despite similar
references to “a very bitter taste in his mouth” (p. 25; cf p. 111), the second
instance results from a specific, external cause (see p. 142).
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