Oral testimony

By Andrea Ferenczi
Élet és Irodalom, February 9, 2007, p. 28

The question of how to use oral history interviews, or oral testimonies, has long been the focus of interest to historians. Moreover, most recently the question has also spilled over - both practically and theoretically - into the areas of literature and psychology in their attempts to create so-called collective biographies from the vast collections of amassed texts that have been archived into the collections of various research institutions.

In Andrew Princz's dual-language publication Bridging the Divide, the author attempts to bring together - in a somewhat strained manner - the stories of two separated members of some fifteen Hungarian families - be they brothers, children with parents, closer or more distant relatives, and all through a mosaic of their personal life-memories. The author's goal - as he admits - was not to bring together a historical document. That is not why he traveled from Montreal to Toronto, Calgary to Vancouver - and then in Hungary from Budapest to Szigetmonostor, from Debrecen to Écs. And nor is that why he brought photographer Katalin Sándor - whose full-page portraits are sometimes even more revealing than the narrative.

The author tries to discover what happens when an individual is suddenly immersed in a historic event. He uncovers the motivations of emigration by those who choose that route - or on the contrary - the reverse, in those who remained in Hungary. He was also curious about the experience of being an immigrant. But despite of these motivations the result is a grey, generalized, clichéd picture drawn from the stories of the fifteen families. While the emigrants of 1956 had a life before their departure from Hungary - in most cases they lived in an oppressed poverty. When they left, they more or less found their way - although those who were able to continue their university studies proved more successful. Subsequently, they would return years later, left again, and struggled with various problems along the way.

And the chapter dealing with the author's father Joseph Princz and his younger brother Ernö, who remained in Hungary, differs in no way from the said 'script'. The older brother, an aspiring journalist who was born in Nagykörös, sets off on a series of adventures towards Montreal where he realizes his dreams. His brothers dream to be a writer or director, meanwhile, dissipate. He would retire from the National Theater where he worked as a technician.

Poverty was not the only reason for the emigration, but it was an important motivation. And meanwhile, a sibling always had to remain with the parent who stayed behind. We do not read of any marked success stories, or important careers. Perhaps the only exception would be the story of Róbert Verebes, then a member of the Várkonyi Quartet. The Quartet left the country on December 8, 1956 from Hegyeshalom, after which the next day they would make their way by train from Vienna to Paris. Róbert would make his way to Montreal, where for four centuries he would be a member of the Montreal Symphony Orchestra. He would travel the world, teach music, and establish numerous musical ensembles of his own.

The book doesn't reveal whether the characters knew each other or not, all while many of the subjects got mixed up in the October events in a similar way. It is similar to the circumstances of their departure from Hungary: we can presume that many left the country from the same train car to a border village. The soldiers on the trains could have been the same, and the rooting into their adopted country and the emotional coding of their return to Hungary years later also reveals a host of similarities.

The stories begin chronologically up until the first traumatic event, from where the linear narrative is broken. At this point the story loses its timeline, or alternately jumps in time. Ferenc Er?s and Bea Ehmann some time ago metaphorically described how the, "pendulum of the narrative can jump decades forward, or backwards," and within a single sentence it can refer to something a decade earlier or later.

This is not the only point where understanding is obstructed. The translation from English is at times raw, un-Hungarian, forlorn or simply miss- translated. And a basic copy-editing of the book would certainly have been advised. In counting the number of mistakes, I stopped at fifty-six.

The beautifully printed book, the carefully designed pages, high quality paper and album-sized publication became in the end, a historical document. The corpus is without a doubt an important research source for psychologists in the development of a collective biography. To these researchers, attention is directed primarily beneath the surface of the structure, and hidden behind the words. Even if opinion is divided as to whether oral history-type interviews contain any epistemological stature, the result of the daring effort would be the crystallization of a kind of objective historic writing.

Andrew Princz: Bridging the Divide - Canadian and Hungarian stories of the 1956 revolution
Translated by Natália Jánossy, Réka Müller, Géza Bodor, Zsófia Bodor, Anna Kis
Photography by Katalin Sándor
ontheglobe.com, Budapest, 2006. 142 pages, 3,900 Ft.

* Translated from Hungarian article published in the Hungarian weekly newspaper, Élet és Irodalom.

The author responds:

Firstly I wish to thank Élet és Irodalom for reviewing the publication Bridging the Divide: Canadian and Hungarian stories of the 1956 revolution.

There are a few items, however, that I would point out in relation to your reading of the publication. In your text you mention the lack of successful 'careers' achieved by the participants, and even take the liberty to make value judgements on the participants lives. Although you do recognize the value of these 'oral testimonies', you seem to have missed the point as to where the value lies.

In setting out on my journey with Ms. Katalin Sándor, I did not seek to find or analyse the 'careers' of the participants. Their careers were an aside, a simple factual element that was part and parcel of their lives. My goal, rather, was to travel with them on their journey and discover how family relationships were affected by the events of October 1956. And that, we found.

That said you seem to have taken the liberty to make value judgements on the careers of the participants. I must say respectfully, in this regard Ms. Ferenczi, your reading is not relevant. That somebody has a dream in their early twenties and their journey takes them elsewhere - because of various reasons - does not make their journey any less valuable or interesting. You mention the story of Robert Verebes as perhaps the only success story. I would take issue with you in a fundamental way. I think that Rorbert was the only one of the participants who had a career in Hungary to forfeit in the first place. And he did - only to venture to a country with hardly the musical background as Hungary. I would venture to say that his career may even have been more 'successful' had he remained in Hungary.

And tell me how the others are less shinning? Anna Porter was Canada's leading publisher. My own father headed a university library. Many had very successful careers. I was simply not emphasizing this aspect of their lives. These were the stories of ordinary people in harrowing times. This is the fundamental value of 'oral testimonies'.

While Cecilia Szebelledy may not have had a shinning career, she has likely lived more in her life than you and I put together. Now put a value to that! Had I looked for 'careers', it would not have been able to tell the story of 15 ordinary people - who reflect many more. Perhaps, they represent a generation.

The point that I think that you missed in your reading is that this book was a part of a coming to terms with an event that separated many Hungarian families. Following the publication, some of the participants were speechless as they told me that they did not know what their family members were doing during those revolutionary days. It was simply too hard for them to talk about it at the time, and later they found it irrelevant. Here I gave these people an opportunity to come to terms with the painful events that separated so many families. And subsequently, perhaps the readers have the opportunity to confront this in their own lives, with their own families.

Andrew Princz