Hungarian literature is a fantastic and melancholy treasure trove. There are many, many fine Hungarian writers who deserve a much larger audience, including Petöfi Sandor, the poet who helped start the 1848 revolution. There's a certain strain of the imagination in Hungarian writing that goes over the Glass Mountains to the shores of the Operencia Sea.
And the shadow of the Austro-Hungarian empire looms large in the works of others like Joseph Roth and Gregor von Rezzori.
The correct spelling is Ha**b**sburg.
Sumptuously adapted in 1971, one of the most visually beautiful films I've ever seen.
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