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 Habsburg.
Sumptuously adapted in 1971, one of the most visually beautiful films I’ve ever seen.
I’ve seen it spelled both ways.
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