Satantango
(Book)

In his third novel to appear in English (after The Melancholy of Resistance and War & War), Hungarian novelist Krasznahorkai introduces us to a dismal mud puddle of a village and its denizens, desperate folk who connive, cheat, and betray each other as they struggle to escape their wretched, rain-soaked circumstances. Readers, too, must struggle. Krasznahorkai's prose is murky and confounding, with shifting points of view, opaque bits of dialogue, and long paragraphs that refuse to let you up for air. Those who put in the effort to trudge through all this and who can also stomach a handful of particularly disturbing depictions of violence may come to appreciate the compelling voice that emerges from the muck, and the careful artistry that undergirds this novel's existential bleakness. This novel may also be of particular interest to cineasts who enjoyed the lauded (and similarly challenging) 1994 film version directed by Bela Tarr.--Driscoll, Brendan Copyright 2010 Booklist

In his third novel to appear in English (after The Melancholy of Resistance and War & War), Hungarian novelist Krasznahorkai introduces us to a dismal mud puddle of a village and its denizens, desperate folk who connive, cheat, and betray each other as they struggle to escape their wretched, rain-soaked circumstances. Readers, too, must struggle. Krasznahorkai's prose is murky and confounding, with shifting points of view, opaque bits of dialogue, and long paragraphs that refuse to let you up for air. Those who put in the effort to trudge through all this—and who can also stomach a handful of particularly disturbing depictions of violence—may come to appreciate the compelling voice that emerges from the muck, and the careful artistry that undergirds this novel's existential bleakness. This novel may also be of particular interest to cineasts who enjoyed the lauded (and similarly challenging) 1994 film version directed by Béla Tarr. Copyright 2012 Booklist Reviews.