denti alligator wrote:
JanPB wrote:
There are two exceptions: in the book Irimias and Petrina witness a bizarre vision in the fog on their way through the woods
This is in the film, isn't it? I mean, there's no vision actually shown, but they certainly
seem to see something.[/i]
Well, this has always been a point of contention. That scene is in the movie, yes, and seems to me to be critically important. However, it is filmed and handled in such a way as to keep Tarr's intentions appropriately ambiguous.
Here is the corresponding fragment from the book. Note the odd, cramped, layout of the text (the non-indented dialogue) is intentional. I tried to make the paragraph narrower by double quoting it. This is a translation of a translation so it's probably not that great. The Polish text I used is oddly unidiomatic in places, awkward, sometimes it's not clear who says what. It seems to be the author's intent but it would be interesting to ask a Hungarian speaker.
The "punk" referred to in the fragment is Sanyi — Estike's (the little girl) older brother.
numbered in the "6 forwards, 6 backwards" style: Part 1 has chapters I through VI and Part 2 chapters VI through I. The fragment below is from Part 2, Chapter IV titled
(even the chapter titles are awkwardly odd).
Quote:
"When I was your age I wouldn't dare to make a peep when adults were present! I was quiet as a tomb! There were no excuses in those days! Not what we have today! But what do you kn...", he stopped suddenly. "What's this?" "What?" "This... noise..." "I can't hear anything", the "punk" answered. "What do you mean you can't hear? Can you hear it now?" They listened holding their breaths, Irimiás froze motionless a few steps ahead of them. They stood near the intersection with the road to Póstelek, the rain was drizzling silently, there was not a soul anywhere except for a flock of crows circling far in the distance. Petrina imagined he heard something above, he pointed silently to the sky but Irimiás shook his head. "From there, more likely...", he pointed in the direction of the town. "A car?..." "I don't know", the master answered uneasily. They stood motionless. The noise wasn't changing. "Maybe it's an airplane...", the "punk" finally said, hesitantly. "No, I don't think so...", said Irimiás. "Anyway... let's take the shorter route. If we walk to Póstelek we'll first reach the Weinkheim palace and then continue along the old road. That way we'll gain four hours, perhaps even five..." "Do you know how muddy that is?", countered Petrina. "Yes, I know. But I don't like it here. It's better to take the other road. We certainly won't run into anyone there." "What do you mean?" "How would I know? Let's go." They left the road and started walking toward Póstelek. Petrina kept glancing around, nervously eyeing the surroundings but couldn't see anything. But now he could swear he could hear some noises coming from above. "That's not an airplane... It's like a church organ... Oh, what nonsense." He paused, bent down, leaned on his hand and put his ear to the ground. "No, certainly not. It's crazy." But the humming wouldn't stop. It moved neither closer nor farther away. He was trying to remember but the sound didn't remind him of anything. Neither car noise, nor airplane sound, nor a thunder... He felt apprehension. He turned his head anxiously sniffing danger everywhere, in the bushes, in the dwarfish trees, in the overgrown ditches. What was most frightening was that he could not tell if this... something was far or near... He turned his suspicions on the "punk". "Hey, you! You ate something today? Is it your belly rumbling?" "Don't be stupid, Petrina!", Irimiás snapped turning back. "And move your legs!" They were already three or four hundred metres past the intersection when in the midst of the frightful incessant hum they noticed something peculiar. Petrina noticed it first, he couldn't utter a word and only stammered something in fear and watched the sky with his bulging eyes. To their right, perhaps fifteen or twenty metres above the mud-covered lifeless ground a gently flowing white veil was slowly, majestically falling down. They barely had time to recover when in their torpor they saw that this "something like a veil" was suddenly dissolving into nothingness at the point it touched the ground. "Somebody pinch me!" Petrina groaned and shook his head in disbelief. The "punk" stood agape but when he noticed neither Irimiás nor Petrina were going to say anything, he added confidently: "Well, what's this about, never seen fog before?" "You call this fog?!", Petrina screamed angrily. "Don't talk nonsense! I bet it... is... a wedding veil... Master, I have bad feelings about this..." Irimiás kept looking helplessly at the spot where the veil fell a moment ago. "Don't be silly. Petrina, get your butt in gear and say something." "Look, over there!", the "punk" screamed. And he pointed at another veil falling down not far from the previous one. They watched spellbound as it was falling to the ground and — as if it was in fact made of fog — dissolved into nothingness... "Let's leave this place, master!", Petrina advised in a shaking voice. "I have this feeling manna from heaven is going to fall any minute now..." "There must be an explanation!", Irimiás said decisively. "I wish I knew what it was!... It's impossible all three of us have lost our minds." "If only Mrs. Halics was here!", the "punk" laughed. "She'd tell us what it was!" Irimiás raised his head. "I beg your pardon." They fell silent. The "punk" felt embarrassed and lowered his eyes. "I was just saying..." "You know anything about this?", the scared Petrina asked. "Me?", the other one laughed. "How would I know? It just came out stupidly..." They walked on without a word and it occurred to Irimiás and Petrina that perhaps it would be better to turn back; but neither could make the decision as neither was sure if the return wouldn't be equally risky... They walked faster, now even Petrina didn't protest, if it was up to him they would've been running already, without stopping until they reached the town; so when they saw the abandoned Weinkheim palace at long last and Irimiás declared a short rest ("My leg has completely fallen asleep... We'll get a fire going, we'll eat something, get dry and then we'll continue..."), he screamed in despair: "Oh no, not this! You don't think I could stay put now, non even for an instant! After all that?" "Stop peeing all over yourself", Irimiás cut him off. "Point is we are all exhausted. We haven't slept for almost two days. We must rest. We have a long way ahead of us." "Well, fine. But you are going first!", Petrina demanded and gathering his courage he walked at ten paces behind them; his heart was in his throat and he didn't even feel like responding to jeers of the "punk" who, having noticed Irimiás' calm, collected himself somewhat and attempted to show him respect for his courage... He waited until the two turned into the path leading to the palace and carefully, looking all around, he followed them but when he faced the front side of the palace ruins his legs turned woolly and although he knew Irimiás was hiding behind the bushes, he was unable to make a step. From somewhere — could it be from the palace? or from the sunburnt, rain-drenched park? — he heard a cheerful pearly laughter. "I'm going to loose my mind, I know it". He was sweating all over from fear. "Dammit! What have we gotten ourselves into?" He held his breath and straining his muscles almost to the point of pain he crawled on his side behind the bushes. The laughter got louder, some cheerful party probably having a good time in this place deserted by all, in rain, cold, and wind... And then that laughter... sounded very odd... He felt cold on his back. He jumped out onto the path and, deciding this was the right moment, ran forward, grasped Irimiás as if he was a soldier in battle when enemy fire is everywhere and one is risking life jumping from one trench to the next. "My friend", he whispered in a choked voice and moved closer to the kneeling Irimiás, "What is happening around here?!" "I can't see anything", the other one said, composed, calmly and quietly, his gaze fixed on the palace park. "But we'll find out soon." "No!", Petrina groaned, "Better let's not find out!" "Someone is having fun there...", the "punk" said, annoyed and losing his patience because he couldn't wait for the master to give him a task to perform. "Here?!", moaned Petrina, "In this rain? In this middle of nowhere?... Master, let's get out of here while there is still time!..." "Shut up, I can't hear anything!" "But I can! I can! That's why I'm saying we must..." "Silence!", Irimiás screamed. In the park where oaks, walnuts, boxwood, and flowerbeds were being swallowed by weeds, nothing was moving. Irimiás — from his spot he could see only a small fragment of the park — decided to walk carefully a bit further; he grabbed Petrina, still waving his arms to and fro, by the shoulder and slowly dragged him to the main entrance where they turned right and then continued to creep slowly on their tiptoes. Irimiás was leading and when he reached the corner, he carefully glanced towards the back of the park; for a moment he was motionless, then he quickly turned his head. "What's this?!", Petrina whispered, "We're running away, yes?" "You see this shed?", Irimiás asked in a choked voice pointing towards a ruined building in front of them. "Quickly. One after the other. I'm going first. Then you, Petrina. And the «punk» goes last. Clear?" And he darted toward the small summer house. "I don't want to!", mumbled Petrina, his eyes bulging with fear. "That's at least twenty metres! They'll poke holes through us like a sieve!" "Let's go!", the "punk" brutally pushed him and the surprised Petrina lost his balance and fell straight into the mud. He stood up quickly but then immediately fell down to the ground again and joined his companion in front of the summer house by crawling like a snake. He couldn't even look up from fear, he covered his eyes with his hands and kept lying still, and only when he understood that thanks to "the grace of the Lord" he was still alive, he gathered his courage, stood up and peered outside through a slit. But his shattered nerves could not bear the view spreading in front of him. "Lie down!", he screamed and threw himself to the ground. "Stop yelling, you cretin!", Irimiás roared at him, "I hear one more sound from you and I'll break your neck!" At the back of the park, on the little meadow in front of the three powerful oaks... a small body was lying... wrapped in a translucent white veil. They were about thirty metres away where the body was not obscured by the veil, they could even make out the facial features; and if all three didn't consider it impossible, if they hadn't with their own hands put the body into the primitve coffin which was slapped together by Kráner, they would have sworn that this was the body of "punk"'s sister, the waxy white face, the curls of the red hair, as if she was asleep... The veil was moving in the wind, the rain was silently washing the corpse, and the three oaks were creaking as if ready to fall over... There was no soul around... only that sweet pearly laughter everywhere, a carefree chuckle, a happy melody of cheerful joyful sounds... Paralysed with fear, the "punk" looked at the meadow, one couldn't tell what he was more afraid of, the sight of his sister's muddy corpse frozen is a deathly spasm, now bright, clear, and frighteningly calm, or that she would suddenly move, stand up and walk over to him; his legs quivered, he felt he was losing consciousness, the darkness enveloped the park, the trees, the palace, the sky, only her lying in the middle of the small meadow, glowing more and more distinctly, more and more painfully. In the sudden silence, in total wordlessness in which even the raindrops fell soundlessly to the ground, it seemed they suddenly went deaf, they felt but couldn't hear either the wind noise or the strange warm current swimming around them, yet he heard the neverending hum and melodious laughter turning into frightening moans and groans, he felt they were coming for him already, he put hands over his eyes and burst into tears. "Can you see this?", the petrified Irimiás whispered and squeezed Petrina's shoulder until his fingers turned white. Above the corpse the wind began to rage and in the boundless silence the blindingly white corpse rose into the air gently... and only upon reaching the treetops it suddenly trembled and began to fall, fluttering slightly, until it landed in the middle of the meadow. The voices which until now were disembodied have turned into a wild lament like a choir dissatisfied with the performance and suffering defeat though not through their fault. "Can you believe this?" "I'm trying", Irimiás said, white as a sheet. "How long has it been? The child has been dead for two days." "Petrina, I think for the first time in my life I'm afraid." "May I ask something?" "Ask." "Do you think?..." "Do I think?" "Do you think... hm... hell exists?..." Irimiás swallowed hard. "Who knows. Perhaps." Silence suddenly fell. Only the noise seemed louder. The corpse rose up again, at about two metres above the ground it shook and with incredible speed it soared upwards and disappeared into the motionless leaden clouds. The wind was blowing in the park, the oaks and the old rickety house were shaking, they heard girls' voices victoriously over their heads and slowly dying away leaving nothing behind except a few floating pieces of veil, the racket of the tiles on the decaying palace roof, the broken tin rainpipes hitting the wall... For several long minutes they looked at the meadow but nothing was happening and they finally calmed down. "Looks like it's all over", Irimiás said and let out a mighty hiccup. "I hope so", Petrina whispered, "Let's revive the «punk»".
As they continue walking Petrina says he is a "protester" and Irimiás corrects him: "protestant", and mentions he wasn't christened.
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