An Exclusive Love, By Johanna Adorján, trans. Anthea Bell

Reviewed,Lucy Popescu
Friday 18 March 2011 01:00 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

An Exclusive Love is Johanna Adorján's homage to her grandparents, Istvá* and Vera, who, on 13 October 1991 committed suicide at their home in Denmark. Hungarian Jews, and survivors of the Holocaust, they were forced to flee their native country with two small children during the uprising of 1956.

By 1991, Istvá* is seriously ill and has been given only a few months to live. Vera, in good health herself, decides that life without him would be unbearable. She sets about trying to purchase Final Exit, a guide to committing suicide published in the US. But the book is not yet openly available in Europe and Vera has to persuade a friend to send her a copy.

In an attempt to understand this enigmatic couple's past and their mutual pact, Adorjá* talks to relatives and friends and sifts through their meagre papers looking for clues. She also visits Mauthausen, the "extermination through labour" camp where Istvá* was incarcerated in 1944.

Vera's survival in Budapest is barely touched upon – she had forged papers. Istvá* never talked about his time in the camp, and was also unforthcoming about his experiences working as a doctor in the Korean War in 1952. It was during his seven months in Korea, Adorjá* learns, that Vera told a friend she would kill herself if her husband didn't return.

A lot is left to Adorján's imagination, including the couple's final days together, which she tenderly recreates: how they take their beloved dog to a friend, wrap up their family heirlooms as Christmas presents, tend the roses in their garden, and their final meal – weak tea and toast. After their deaths, Adorjá* discovers a note in her grandmother's hand: "A perfectly normal to-do list for their suicide." But "How do two people feel on their last day alive?"

Adorjá* suggests that it is Vera's "exclusive love" for Istvá* that compels her to want to die with him. It struck me that the fact they "escaped death by the skin of their teeth" 40 years earlier might also have contributed to their desire to choose, of their own free will, the moment, place and method of their death. We shall never know. Yet despite Adorján's admirable research, I couldn't help but feel frustrated that her subjects remain, to the last, just out of reach.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in