"This volume is like a telephone ringing in an empty room. You enter. Should you pick it up? You pick it up. Someone is looking for you," says writer Péter Váradi of Hungarian Grammar.
Man of letters Ádám Nádasdy, who will host the launch of Hungarian Grammar, says of Mestyán "I like him because he can be old-fashioned. I smile because he can be serious. I envy him because he can be ruthless."
Ákos Szilágyi, another well-known Hungarian writer, speaks about the book?s main character: "Radical gentleness is how I might describe Ádám Mestyán's lyrical hero. He looks at the world in such a gentle way that the world becomes scared to death and screams."
Ádám Mestyán has regularly published his work in the journals Élet és Irodalom, 2000, Mozgó Világ, Kalligram. His writing has also appeared in Alföld, Jelenkor, and Litera. His poetry was selected for the 2005 Szép Versek, an annual anthology of Hungarian poetry.
Mestyán is a man many talents: he studied aesthetics and Arab studies, and has spent much time in Arab countries, which is reflected in some of his poems. He is currently completing his doctorate and is also the bass player in a band called Yava.
Hungarian Grammar, published by L'Harmattan, comprises almost 50 poems from several hundred written over a ten-year period. The poems are about family, religion, love and even eroticism.
An excerpt from Mestyán?s "Reunion":
"I do quality control in the dairy industry," he says, smiling. Class reunions are a dangerous genre, shameful fun. The person who used to be a star with the largest number of matchboxes Sits upon the ruins of his seventh grade glory and grins embarrassed. And where is the beauty of the class which men on the verge of puberty so coveted? She is a fat businesswoman with unexciting smooth skin, dull eyes, And many contacts in the matchmaking business. The other one, who looked down on her suitors from a cool distance, Is now watching with mean eyes, and suffering. Unrequited love. My former best friend is trying to cling. We watched porn together for the first time And I got drunk at their place. He is now going bankrupt and is ashamed of Having had a cleaning job in a hotel. Everyone has a handicap. The teacher formerly in charge of our class is happy on her own, Excited to ask questions, flourishing, And we forget the meaning of the word grateful. A new arrival: the power champion of the class, the tiny energy ball, The only one who has kept his good heart. He has an easy job: He has turned into a football player. The slobbery guy is even slobberier, foreign study trips etc., Sure as a butcher, apart from an odd wrinkle in his brow Suggesting that he still spends the night crying, though daytime it's sales. Mistaken identifications: today's up-market dentist has never been a child. An unknown woman arrives, an entrepreneur. She lived in my street And we took honours English together. Her eyes are veiled by benevolent tedium, And she has brought her "partner" along. I am no one and you are no one. Don't look at me and don't ask questions. The quiet indistinct little girl has turned into a nymphomaniac, Out to hunt every night, licking her lips in anticipation. It seems like she has not scooped her prey yet tonight. The coded programmes have properly run: the person who modelled The Eiffel Tower in grade six became an engineer, The square-head pretty boy has run off abroad, And the one with the glasses whom everyone tortured, Well, he is dead.
