It Was Like This...

By Janikovszky Éva

Thirty years have passed since Éva Janikovszky wrote Az úgy volt The coin-operated phone-box in the street is no longer an excuse for a thirteen-year-old boy to slip out of his apartment. The international scouting movement has taken the place of Hungarys pioneer movement. At the 1933 Boy Scout World Jamboree in Hungary Lord Baden-Powell announced, "I want to see men of all countries at peace with each other. You are the future men of your countries, so be friends! and urged the boys to swap addresses and become pen-friends. Our teenage hero tries both of these things. He also tries skating, lying to his girl-friend, planting trees and shrubs in the park, all with varying degrees of success. Most of all, he tries to understand the world around him, dominated by adults who are his own and his friends parents, relatives and teachers. Essentially he is no different from todays teenagers with their mobile phones, MP4s and computers. That is why Éva Janikovszky is timeless: she could see into her own child as he grew, implant herself in his thoughts, and make them universal and ageless. This is why all these decades later young adolescents (not to mention their parents!) will be enthralled by this, the latest of Móra Publishing Houses English translations of Éva Janikovszkys (semi-)fiction for children. Illustrated by László Réber.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Móra Kiadó
• Release date: Dec 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9789634159568

Book preview

ÉVA JANIKOVSZKY

It Was Like This...

Móra Publishing House

The translation was made

on the basis of the following edition:

Janikovszky Éva: Az úgy volt…

Móra Publishing House, Budapest, 2006

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form,

or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording,

or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

The publishing house’s books can be purchased at a discount from the

company’s website: www.mora.hu

Translated by

ANDREW C. ROUSE

ÉVA JANIKOVSZKY

LITERARY FOUNDATION

Your donations are greatly appreciated!

Tax Identification Number: 18114933-1-41

Bank Account Number: 10700024-45441406-51100005

www.janikovszky.hu

Text © Estate of Éva Janikovszky, 2010

Illustration © Estate of László Réber, 2010

English translation © Andrew C. Rouse, 2010

English edition © Móra Publishing House, 2010

E-mail: [e-mail] • Webshop: www.mora.hu

What’s Up?

It was like this: when I came home from the camp everyone at home swooped down on me to ask What it was like, How it had been, Tell us everything!

I generally know what’s happened, I just don’t like it if they keep asking me about it.

So I said, Alright.

But they just kept at me, why was it they had to extract every word with a pair of pliers, why can’t I just say what it was like?

I said, Good.

But that wasn’t enough for them.

Show yourself, now! Let’s take a look at you, I haven’t seen you for a million years! said Mum, because she loves exaggerating.

Come on then, let’s hear all about it, where’s you been, what did you see? asked Dad, as if he didn’t know I’d been to Balatonszabadi-Sóstó, where he’d been, too.

What did you bring me? asked Little Bruv, tugging at me, because he’s never interested in who’s come but what they’ve brought.

So I gave him the sailing boat made out of a shell to keep him happy, but he just said it wasn’t worth spending money on. Lucky that Zombie, who made it for me as a present, didn’t hear.

What would you like to eat, darling? asked Grandma, because she always thinks I’m hungry.

What would you like to eat, darling? asked Grandma, because she always thinks I’m hungry.

So she put whatever there was down in front of me, and I began to eat. I hate it when people watch me eat, but everyone did. Thank goodness Little Bruv soon got bored.

You just eat, dearie, I can imagine what the food was like there! sighed Grandma, because she thought I hadn’t eaten for two weeks.

But if she had really been able to imagine she’d have sighed deeper. Because it was good, even though we’d cooked it.

Now Mum and Dad wouldn’t even have minded if I had spoken with my mouth full, because they were forever asking were you cold, did you get sunstroke, did it rain much, was I sunburnt, and were there enough blankets, lots of