That's Life

After reading the first short novel, A műbútorasztalos (The cabinet-maker) in Bíró Kriszta's collection, Jozefa, the first thing that came into my mind was "that's life." I don't know how she does it but the characters, the plot, and the milieu all make the impression of being larger than life. I'm not sure if I use the expression correctly, what I mean is that the story leaves you with a bitter sweet taste in the mouth; a you-know-it's-true feeling lingers after pronouncing the last (and very powerful) words to yourself.
Jozefa is Bíró's first collection (from 2003), and it contains three short novels. It was my former lit teacher from high school who lent it to me, as we still keep in touch, and she serves as a kind of mentor / literary guide to me. Were it not for her I probably hadn't become a Kiss Judit Ágnes follower. Actually it was her who made me become a literary thinker (or how shall I put it).

Jozefa contains three short novels, or maybe I should call them long stories: A műbútorasztalos (The cabinet-maker), Jozefa, and Egyszer van (Once in a life). As you can see, the collection was named after the second story, though it's not the longest one. The third story makes up half of the book, about 80 pages. I take Jozefa to be an alter ego, not only for the author, but rather to women in general. It tells the story of the narrator's great-grandmother, Jozefa, who was born in 1899. Being a girl, she was considered to be a failure in his father's eyes, and her only use was to get married and make an ally with the richest family in the village, the Ezüsts (the Silvers). Jozefa is a very strong character both physically and spiritually. The realistic folk story smoothly glides into magical realism in the scene when Jozefa gets furious and realizes that she is flying. For generations after, women in the family inherit the (un)fortunate ability of becoming a witch when they get really angry. And of course this usually happens after having been upset by a man. You see, I interpret it as the portrayal of true womanhood. You have this spiritual inner power with the help of which you can accomplish more than you would expect, you have this witch (or goddess) inside, this uncontrollable force, and of course you are bound to be drawn to man (who don't deserve you).
The last story is also about a woman, Juci, who seems to have a secret power which attracts everybody around. Her secret is the ability to be cheerful come what may. As we follow her story from the time of her grandparents, she experiences a lot: death of the parents, parting from the siblings, loss of a lover, the Second World War, and so on, but she preserves her optimism through her life.
The story also raises the issue of choosing a life-mate, which is one of my top five philosophical dilemmas. Basically you have two options: the one you can live with, and the one you cannot live without. I like the works that play with this topic, such as the movie, The Evening, for example; though I don't consider it to be a solvable dilemma. Of course you can never know the what if, except if reincarnation happens, which again we cannot be sure of.
If you want to be drawn to tales of bygone days and unpredictable twists of the plot, while at the same time pondering the nature of love, the essential misunderstanding between man and woman, and true womanhood, you should definitely read Jozefa. And like me, hunt for Bíró's other works.