Magyar Hírek, 1984 (37. évfolyam, 2-26. szám)
1984-06-09 / 12. szám
In the footsteps of those who migrated A Budapest conversation with Albert Tezla Albert Tezla, of Hungarian parentage, retired professor of the University of Minnesota spent three weeks in Budapest. Yet it was still difficult to fix a time for an interview with him. He spent his time working hard, and had but scarce opportunity for relaxation. He had been preparing the short stories of Ferenc Sánta and the English translation of Ötödik pecsét (Fifth seal) for the press, working closely with Mrs. Tünde Vajda, an editor of Corvina Press. He also worked with István Bart on a collection of documents Magyarok Amerikában (Hungarians in America), which will be published by Europe Publishers, and preparatory work for a long television documentary also took up much of his time. Albert Tezla collected material for the portraits of seven contemporary Hungarian writers and poets in the Széchényi Library; these pieces, each of about two thousand words, will be published as part of World Authors Today 1980—1985 by H. W. Kilson. All this business points to the character of Professor Tezla's versatile interests. When at home, he is a historian of literature, he teaches world literature, does research into the English romantics and, at the same time, is a devoted translator and popularizer of Hungarian writing. He recently published an anthology of post-war Hungarian prose, verse, and dramatic writing in the United States, chosing the telling titles Ocean at the Window. For the past twenty years he has spent much time and energy on the compilation of a matchless collection of documents on the great migration of the turn of the century. From Padéj to South Bend Albert Tezla was guided by his own most intimate feelings in his huge undertaking. „My father, Mihály Tézsla, and mother, Lueza Szénási emigrated from Padéj, County Torontál to America in 1907, and settled at South Bend, Indiana. My brother and sister were born after, I was a late child, born in 1915. The decisive experiences of my childhood were the life of the large Hungarian colony of South Bend, the outings, where my father cooked gulyás, the vintage balls, the Hungarian House, the theatrical performances.” Mihály Tézsla was one of the people, who went to America to leave poverty behind, in the hope of saving up some capital. The illiterate coachman of Padéj worked in a plough factory at South Bend, and he was employed there the year round. Newspapers played a very important part in the life of migrants, they could read about the news from home, but they could were also given information by Amerikai Magyar Népszava, Szabadság, and Magyar Bányászlap (Hungarian Miner’s News) on what were the rates of pay or condition of work in various places. Special columns were devoted J;o the newcomers, reporting how many of them came, from which counties, on board of which ships. “When I was old enough to go to the American school, my father insisted that I should also learnt to read Hungarian” — recalls Albert Tezla, “The local newspaper, Városi Élet was delivered each Saturday. Then my father sat in an armchair and I sat in front of him, on a footstool, took the paper, and read. My mother stood behind us. She had completed the six-year primary school at home, and when I made mistake in a more complicated sentence, or with a longer word, she gave me a tap on the head. This is how I learnt to read Hungarian. And since I liked reading, I frequented the library of the Hungarian House, and read all of the books there, the classics, Vörösmarty, the 19th century novels. 26 miles of micto-film Hundreds of thousands set out on the long journey early this century, mostly poor peasants. Albert Tezla believed that the memory of these people had to be preserved their voice should be heard. An immense amount of material had to be explored, a multitude of letters, consular reports, official documents, the files of the Immigration Department, contemporary newspaper articles, speeches, studies had to be read, documents of in Viennese, Budapest, and American archives had to be searched and copied. “A student at the Minneapolis archives who witnessed the systematization, editing and copying of Hungarian, English and German sources, added up the length of the micro-films processed, according to his estimate, some 26 miles of material was collected.” And that is nearly 42 kilometers. A wonderful picture took shape. The sources speak for themselves. They offer inmation about the reasons of emigration, on the eventful journey of hundreds of thousands of emigrants on foot, by rail, and steamship, their arrival at Ellis Island, as well as on life in America: the factories, mines, boarding houses, saloons, associations, congregations the migrant press and the peculiar English—Hungarian mixed language, Hunglish. “These documents tell about heroes”, Professor Tezla said, “about simple, poor people, peasants, workers, whom fate sent far from their country. They would fade into oblivion if we did not preserve their memory.” When Hungarian students read Attila József’s poem, My Country today, only few of them know what the poet refers to writing: ... and a million and a half of our people staggered out to America.” A million and a half? Were there really that many? Albert Tezla does not know the accurate figure. Before the Great War, the Hungarian authorities insisted on keeping alive the animus redeundi, the desire to return home at all cost, treating emigration as transitory, and emigrants as migrant-workers, even though several thorough studies, including one by Count Lajos Ambrózy proved the contrary. The americanization of the second generation, those who were born out there, could in no event be arrested, and the intention of the parents to return home was often frustrated by the resistance of the children. But one would look in vain for spectacular careers, for multimillionairs, who began as kitchen hands among Albert Tezla’s documents of “Naturally, there were some, but they were not characteristic in the mass of many hundreds of thousands” — he explained. “There were plenty of careers, of course, a few printers, for instance became journalists and editors of their own newspaper, saloonkeepers, who sometimes handled the money of a whole community of miners or workers, and therefore learnt a lot of things, how to keep books for instance, sometimes became real bankers. A high proportion of the professional people, of lawyers, or bankers came from the old country.” The second generation The second generation offers a greater variety of career stories. Most of those born soon after the arrival of the parents — like Albert Tezla’s brother and sister — became manual workers. They did not enter higher education, still a good number of people of his generation made careers similar to his. He also began working in a department store after leaving high-school, and began his university studies only in 1938 at the University of Chicago. In the meantime he was married, and served as a naval officer during the war, and his two children were born before he graduated. Later he went to Duluth, where a branch of the Minnesota State University is located, and retired from there as Professor of English and World Literature at the age of 67. Of course, his retirement was not tantamount to idleness, the busy Budapest days are characteristic at home too. “The most painful job during these three weeks was the sifting” — adds Professor Tezla laughingly. With Pista Bart we had to delect what documents should be included in the Hungarian language volume, and I will have to go through the same work at home for the English edition. When my one hundred and one year old mother looked at the bulky manuscript weighing several kilograms, she asked in wonder: “Is this all about us?” What will not be published, will still be preserved. Albert Tezla made provisions to place the complete collection oh documents in archives, making them available to research students. ♦ GYÖRGY GABOR JÓZSA IN THE RING The eyes can hardly follow the movement of balls, clubs, rings in the hands of the pretty girl and the two muscular young men standing on the back of three horses racing around the ring. Their spectacular, breathless production won them public acclaim in the Federal Republic of Germany, Poland, Sweden, Austria, Italy, the German Democratic Republic, and — of course — in Hungary. They represented Hungary last year at the annual circus festival in Monaco, and won the prize of the Press Association of the International Federation of Circuses and Variety Shows. They also performed their act at the gala show, which was televised all over the world, and received a three-month invitation to Italy. How did it all begin? The artiste and horse-trainer, János Donnert taught this act to his own children twenty years ago. His youngest son, Sándor,refreshed the act, and having taken Imre Szabó, and Zsuzsa Kertész as partners, he established the Trio Dunai. All three graduated from the Budapest State Artiste Training School. They prepared themselves for a life in the circus from childhood, which is little wonder, since they grew up in families of travelling folk with the exception of Imre. In a few years, while they performed their act in Hungary and abroad, they became used to rehearsing three hours a day, to change costumes six to eight times, and even to unusual situations. Once they were waiting for the horses in vain at a railway station in Italy. It turned out that they were put into a high carriage, which was decoupled, and waiting on a siderail together with the horses, before a tunnel, that was too low to let it go through. They hastened to the spot, and took an active part in the transformation of the undercarriage in order to get to the scene, and save disappointment to the circus-goers. Between two performances, Imre is responsible for the maintenance of the clubs, and rings, for buying new ones, and for the technical supervision of the cars, and the trailer that is used for transporting the horses. Zsuzsa’s task is to keep the costumes in good order, and to buy new ones, when necessary. Sándor does the administrative jobs, and the stablehand of the trio, János Csiba takes care of the three horses. In the meantime rehearsals, for the programme has to be continuously freshened up with new elements, difficult and spectacular motives. One has to fight to stay at the top even under the Big Top. In Hungary as well as abroad. Those, who cannot offer interesting, wellworked out, attractive routines get few engagements. Well, no such danger threatens the Trio Dunai; they have plenty of ideas, much strength, considerable ambition. GÁBOR NOVÄK 30
