Orwell-tango

By Norbert Tasev

The author’s latest memoir is a funny, humorous, touching account of the world, his family more narrowly, and his life. It will take nearly seven and a half years, which he spent searching for himself. We can learn from him how he faced the failures of life, his slaps on his face, when he suddenly left the Faculty of Arts and found himself in the capitalized life, and yet with his cynical, black humor he tried to overcome the difficulties of his relationship with his father.
This volume of memoirs is more than a collection of self-irony and pessimistic summaries of existence. The author holds a curved mirror not only to himself, but to the world, and thus to the capitalized life in which he seeks to survive. Those who liked the novel The Countdown to Past Times can now be enriched with a completely different but interesting read!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Norbert Tasev
• Release date: Feb 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005489847

Norbert Tasev

Hi Everyone! I'm a History teacher, and I love literature, poems, and novels! I write many literature books, but I can't sell the big Hungarian's Book Companys! I think the most important thing is is read, because the culture and the world discovered by the books! I hope everyone how's love books interesting to my new books! Have a nice day for everyone!

Book preview

Orwell-Tango

Memoir Novel

By Norbert Tasev

Copyright 2021 Norbert Tasev

Smachwords Edition

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

AFTERWORD

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER 1

In pretty much my free time after college, I tried to find a single question and find the answer: Who am I? What do I want to achieve in life? And I wonder how I will realize all the dreams and ideas that I once believed with heart and soul and hoped for.

I once read a philosophical study to the German philosopher Martin Heidegger in which he claims that life is nothing but a denial of denial! This, in simple language, means that one formulates goals and dreams that one wants to achieve, but the moment these goals and ideas fail or get stuck in the sieve of life and collide with barriers, one begins to downplay one’s desires and goals. feasibility! The end of which, of course, is a lasting and gradual decline! He becomes a bitter, cynical, grumbling, eternally dissatisfied, and perpetually self-pitying figure who has pretty much voluntarily and sungly given up on being able to achieve anything in life!

How cowardly or vile was he? That he just didn't have the courage to even ask for help from his acquaintances or friends? Why he constantly felt that he couldn’t really count on anyone but himself! And why did you feel constantly and every blessed day that you were really vulnerable in your life worth nothing ?!

All of these are poetic-almost-like, seemingly commonplace, cliché-like questions that sooner or later, but everyone asks themselves primarily, and wants to get immediate, and hopefully exhaustive, answers to them!

I immersed myself in the mysteries of authoring book-making, and I did my best to make some of my writings, which are more or less tangled and considered to be useless, that could later be born as something truly unique, creative, and hopefully epoch-making for publishers!

Then, perhaps, my determination in this was interrupted by a series of almost totally disappointing obstacles, and the curve of destiny broke it in half.

****

My father retired in December 2010. he was a bus driver, and almost from the very first moments that his common life had begun to be a mischievous and heartwarming , often heartwarming and understanding era, with initial attempts and path-finding, I felt more and more gaping and among the people we have become with our environmental and personal problems.

My father because there was a profound facial poetics as to what should have been the role of a certain age, that grown men do in order to realize their life, and what is perhaps even more important, to finally be facing him as an adult society in a to another, award-winning specimen who deserves the privilege of being taken seriously and appreciated later.

This meant, in effect, that if a person did not start a family emphatically, by the age of thirty-five at the latest, he would not have a child, he would have no partner to accompany him for a lifetime, and he would have no relatives at all who would inherit his name and existence . then the person will automatically deprive t Atik from those előjogoktól that apply to both the private and the public sector as a grown man; at least the way my father planned it.

And because he had always been stubborn, stubborn, and murderously unyielding, and he had done so, he was very discouraged not to mention in every minute of our seven years together that he was much more karakan, more resilient, and more pumpkin than in his time like a single son at any time !

I was a boss when I was twenty-six, but my boy! Behind his boastful, often piquant voice, if he could hear well, he could easily feel that a hint of chunky, rooting-induced arrogance mingled with the temporary pride .

In most cases, my father strengthened the camp of exceptional, gallier- type people whose individual, yet thoughtful deeds and decisions were definitely to be acknowledged and often praised, because in that sacred moment, like a friend or even a familiar relative, to doubt or argue. love could expect immediate, total, massive, and passive resistance to my father’s opinions, words, uttered thoughts!

This meant that if my father was quite konok and stubbornly stubbornly, he wouldn’t have talked to that person at all either at other times or in the near future! Many times, even with me, for at least a week or two, our communication only rubbed and touched the usual greeting formulas.

- Putting the joke aside! Sweet son! What do you want to start with in your life ?! His voice radiated concern , and yet, if I always hear him ring from far away, it was as if he had carried a cautionary warning and a strict, philosophical judgment. Man takes responsibility for what came into the world, that he remained primarily a human being, and to adhere to the established, ancient system of rules of survival, whatever it may cover!

I felt much more that a kind of trap got into outside through no fault! After the university's catchy , slightly ,, hippie life "seemed a bit such as post-secondary risky days when a man frantically drove himself to purchase the entrance exam scores and alone praying that we can take the prominent universities, which the marked on specific completed forms!

I think I was much more afraid of how our closest acquaintances and relatives would react to living with a small retiree, as there was no question of a rent - due to the lack of current financial resources - for the time being!

I felt terribly stupid and thoughtless when my father’s dangerous, notorious mania had already begun to hide all the worthy newspapers, tabloid magazines, and dailies , and he was looking for a job for me! Perhaps he could have felt like a drowning man , with all his convulsive endeavors taking his breath to the last nail break, to survive the ultimate refuge of death and escape even a perforated soul loser.

- Just look, sweet son! I think this job was just tailored for you! He pointed with a big vest, visibly boasting as if he were already captivated by the moment he could announce something new and great!

I took the newspaper from him with trembling hands because we discussed with my mother that we would not unnecessarily ignite the fire of unnecessary anger if my father’s judgmental opinion might be on the table!

I could barely look carefully at the job of looking for daytime daytime teachers in an elementary school for eight hours, when my father had already, as if suddenly forgotten something very urgent and certainly important, snatched the paper from my hands, almost tearing the newspaper off, buses and Sa n, even a vehement frustration mad announced that he breaks himself in vain if I did not move my ears stick, only days until művelődöm , I poem or reading!

- Too bad you sweet son! He concluded, in general, an unnecessarily self-generated, ineffective, irritated, tense debate.

- My boss has been your age k I was, or who at least fifty people managed ! I searched very well! There was sure ground under my feet! Do you understand this ???

Later, I went out to the kitchen, except that I didn’t have to listen to his upset and baroque ideas again with examples from his own life. Then we both had lunch, and again that day we just made a point - at least for now - on top of a bubbling volcano.

My mother may have undergone some excited, special change, because the moment my father received an early retirement, he seemed to have completely reorganized his further business and immediately rushed home from work to find peaceful, rushed clashes between the idea between us and certain views. settle down by compromise methods! My mother was the lightning rod in our little family! Many times I felt like a black lamb, whom I simply wade through because my protesting passivity and stoic silence allow other people to do so!

In our vital moments, when he wanted to plan a vacation , a summer vacation - primarily my mother, who later became passionate about sightseeing - first my father started a real killer, slang , swearing words, reaping words , and then my mother, who passed through the place. forced a compromise!

- Honey! You also know that our son is an adult! He is slowly in his late twenties ! I think you know exactly and have assessed what you want to participate in and what you don’t! He tried to whisper from time to time .

- So! I didn't tell you! You begin again! It's all because of you too! Because you kept pampering and teasing! That’s why he didn’t learn any responsibilities, because his mom was always there for him!

My father ironic - in many cases - to the core sarcastic , satirical words deeply ingrained, bittersweet fed from his childhood, when he was the elder son of the family, and he had to take care of almost everything; after all, his parents worked or built socialism!

So I got from bucket to bucket, and if I didn’t want to risk my physical integrity unnecessarily, I did my rest of my sanity and the shipwrecked, declassified crumbs of my soul if I only speak when it was absolutely necessary.

But I wanted to do my doctoral dissertation on literary history. Probably there was satisfied pathetic, despicable, treacherous, two-color reasons, promise or bargaining whole series had started, why would hold the content, form, and other stylistic requirements of the relevant entries accountable for that graduate students would like to do save board presence when, emphatically of his own free will, he decided towards the end of his second grade to give up the cursed Hungarian major?

Perhaps this, too, could have been solved with a little furiousness and insightful, wise will — if only the highly respected educators did not have a blister in their head as they were most compelled to wear today.

Perhaps I wanted to write a doctoral dissertation on one of my favorite poets, Füst Milán, but - I hope the dear reader will not misunderstand me - I would like to mention such a XX. century’s forgotten greatness, whose name could not even be heard by insider literary circles or hobby literary writers in private salons . Finally, needless to say, the dissertation experiment did not become anything either. (Probably my father would have talked him out by now, saying, " You don't have to spend your precious time studying ! It's finally time to go to work and get back on your feet !)

CHAPTER 2

Passing the upcoming English language exam promised to be a hair-raising, neck-breaking stunt , as the condition for obtaining the diploma was that one should obtain a secondary language exam from a living foreign language. Especially in our modern age, this has caused a cause for total disappointment, when - with just eight classes - anyone can be an influential and successful businessman or, in some cases, a media guru with a slightly grotesque wording.

My mother had an idea that she was a little lost in, always hesitant, and in my shipwrecked condition I could inevitably cling to it. He was offered a strange man who lived in Budaörs, almost three or four kilometers away from us, who not only was a perfect teacher of English, but he had almost legendary news that: he considers his students to be equal partners, and it is not just the parties smoother, and between all certainly effective communication is one of trust is a prerequisite, but it is that the parties can work much to achieve the targets set out together and formulated together better.

Even now, I remember with a stomach-feeling feeling the very first, symbolic, diplomatic encounter. Unfortunately, in most encounters, it happens that the two unknown parties are staring at the other with suspicious, vulgar, curious eyes almost like wild beasts lurking for prey. In both of them , the ancient survival instinct works , which at any moment can press the alarm in the conscience, and then there was — there is no mutual reconciliation or rapprochement.

The church square in Budaörs was a kind of smaller city square. Almost just the festive, sublime splendor of the Catholic church, and a small community playground, gave it a beneficial, somewhat rural look. Yet, if one had erred from the bustling hustle and bustle of Budapest as if he could have found peace and tranquility after so many seemingly meaningless and seemingly useless nerve-rushing rushes, lottery runs.

If that weren’t enough, there was already a very reputable patisserie opposite the Temple Square stop - then even introductory, affordable prices - and where even the marzipan-coated cake wonders could be boldly tasted by adults and children mixed. Later, a little tragically, and with mixed emotions, I received the news that the particular confectionery had become animal-friendly, so a whole small army of diligent little pets immediately began to rush around the man who entered the store room for a cream or cake at all.

And now I know that the dear reader is probably in a rage, how can you be angry at those sweet, fairy-punish , adorable little animals? I have to stress that I am not angry, I am just afraid and scared of them! And my opinion that bringing four-legged pets to a grocery or confectionery store is strictly forbidden is perfectly legitimate and well-founded. After all, if you think about it a little more, you don't want to see a cat or a dog hair on top of Rigó Jancsija or chocolate ice cream!

The small Szakály Mátyás street was just around the corner. It was his beloved parents, and especially my constantly grumpy and disagreeing father, who categorically and at the same time firmly stated that we had to go see where the Mr. Teacher should come to learn English! This word learn was significantly pressed and emphasized, even by just a Shakespeare stage actor in the big monologue scene. In many cases, my father resembled Richard Burton in his temperament of karakan .

- So! Then you should not forget that Monday morning warmth must come VA, because many times I will not show you! I hope you understood ?! His greenish eyes, constantly floating in blood vessels, sparkled with reality.

- Yes, of course! - in big sips I managed to swallow my perfect courage in a few moments.

- Don't worry about my treasure! My mother tried to comfort her! Your father is more excited than you are! - and he was already laughing while I was anxious all the way home, trying to think about what I was going to say the next day to my future teacher, who would be tasked with preparing me for the exam in about three and a half months.

Could walk the first few months of September and, as was usual course of business of heme public transport flights zsegő anthill as'll make pték the - mainly their way to school students armies who are joking, joking, and utterly disregard threw the outside world expectations or requirements.

I showed up at half past nine on Monday morning. In my patterned bermuda shorts and my freshly ironed shirt, I could actually look like a Martian who just accidentally wandered to the ground. And since the summer heatwave was still being felt, I wore a tourist hat like the Rhodes inscription, a sort of statement that I may have recently returned from my summer vacation, even though we had only spent a good week in Paris.

Peaceful, family house welcomed. There was even a mini playground in the backyard, which was directly fenced off from the rest of the house and the gaze. With original golden sand. As it turned out later, the couple had five children, the youngest of whom may have been three years old at the time and hated going to kindergarten.

I rang three times. Va la why I felt that this too had to be an unavoidable, pivotal part of my particular ritual .

A slightly shuffling, torn, very thin, and extremely rabbit, a strange man came out, a luminous, astonished surprise in his big brown eyes, while a kind of grimacing charm grew on his controversially big lips, perhaps only because if he had remained stiff and strict perhaps he would have lost all remaining willingness to make friends with me.

- Hello! How are you ? He asked how I was.

- Thank you ! I'm fine ! - although my knowledge of English is very worn out, I am still intact because I have adapted to the tangled mazes of words and phrases.

- Please come ! He gestured politely with his long-legged hands as he began to rust , let in on the white iron fence, and we walked down the long, straight-haired driveway straight to the comfort entrance of the family home.

When we walked in the front door as well, the very first thing that seemed to one's eyes was the permanence of the lasting mess, and those grains of sand, almost in a pile, arranged almost seemingly immaculate, lying on the floor for some reason, instead of someone catching a broom or shovel and would have decently removed the dirt from the road.

We moved to a smaller room that might once have been a children’s room, and now it has suddenly transformed into a temporary worker and paper repair workshop.

We immediately took a seat and started talking a little bit first in English and then in mixed language.

Mr. Teacher - seemingly curiously trying to find out what my level of knowledge was, and after the initial enthusiasm, he said a little sourly that there was certainly a lot more to develop and work on. By the time I answered everything, I was trying to do everything on my own that was lasting and for my individual development, so that I could pass the exam anyway.

Later, my father often mentioned that it might not have been such a tragedy to get away with this whole fiasco if I had gone out to one of the markets with two hundred and forty thousand forints in my pocket and taken a fake English exam in just two days. Then later they still could have been hands-on with , I will have a job you never shall take a notice things. And today, it actually seems as if you can swim anything , with the exception of the average little man.

The people get more belelovalta itself is necessarily the more inescapable realized in a particular position for full or even partial lack of adaptation skills.

During plenty week newfound private English teacher has been virtually did all the necessary information and contacts is known quite shy and inhibited his disciples, and he also knew that self-confidence, courage definitely must pedagogical tools demolish, because people can only build with ruins.

What a Prussian, outdated, outdated method! In the Netherlands, they teach how to achieve the necessary signs of cooperation and compromise through cooperative group work at an early age , of course, without anyone compromising the somewhat volatile, unstable cooperation and cohesion at the moment of formation . In contrast, our country still has good old parrot that unconditional obedience, discipline and education permanent, and most important tal p followed , although this again is outdated ideas. But once you have a curriculum and there are a couple of senior Methuselah educators who have a lot of professional experience , they often actually act as if they are more of a barrier to development rather than promoters .

- And what do you like to do in, say, your free time ? - he has already asked his heart the most sympathetic question, and he almost enjoys being in a winning position compared to me, who, even during abundant sweating, can be seen to be as anxious as if his child were just being born.

- Well, that's variable! - I answer. " Most of the time I write and play music, even though the chord change isn’t going really well yet… - Behind my insecurity lies a long history of tumbling, as I don’t want to extend my cards yet, and confidence is still in its infancy. If my teacher still wants the mutual cohesion between us to exist, then he needs to create a give-and-take symbiosis in which, according to the laws of psychology, both actors get something.

- Well, that's very interesting! If you will be famous I hope you send a dedicated copy! He tries to joke a little nervously, keeping his chess with his dazzling white teeth pretty much constantly.

- I increasingly see that public book publishers are also making losses, so no one is going to risk discovering a young talent quasi! First, the author must be firmly in the publishing budget so that the publisher does not go wrong!

Halihó! This is the XXI. century! - my courage seemed to be channeled into a new bed as books and culture came to the fore.

Now the teacher, with a sly, sly wink, has already switched to nose-like English again and begins to question. Practically, he repeats word for word with him the same text that I had just dared to distract him so fluently and fluently in Hungarian.

If you're so skeptical about all this, why not try private publishing? - in his inquisitive, yet slightly cynical voice, there is still some kind of conscious doubt or resignation lurking out loud! Once again, he has successfully caught himself another palindird who thinks he will be the next Stephen King.

"As a matter of fact, I’ve already tried, but that particular private book publisher based in Austria was poisonous, and unfortunately after a while I noticed that he was only connected to certain bookstores. I confess a little sadly, disillusioned, as if he was actually disillusioned with the news.

- Well! Interesting! - but somehow he prolongs this interesting word in such a way that the man's back is almost literally peas .

The first meeting is delayed a bit as you gradually get to know the other, and we are to start on mutual trust and dependence is transformed able to friendship as the most important alliance pivotal cornerstone .

Could hardly around ten in the morning, when szedelőzködöm , and you store small briefcase, which truly has become almost second testrészemmé during the university years and is an essential component.

The teacher is still unheard of friendly and willing. He's already escorting me to the white driveway gate. While we get there we both listen in good taste and meditate on the dead .

- See you on Wednesday ! Bye ! - thanks t , and do not forget to mention that these meetings - if fate wills it - will be place on a Wednesday.

I can say goodbye and you're galloping toward the bus stop, as if doing távgyaloglást apace, because I do not want no access to the rest - mostly curious and suspicious passengers - szorongjak with Bird Hill bus stop, which at that time been systematically I got when I had something to do in Budaörs.

Luckily I get home before my dad. Exceptionally, it always filled me with good, liberating feelings. (My father retired at only two thousand ten), until then I could pretty much have been the sole lord of our small apartment in a condominium, and that tilted my self-confidence, which was constantly looking for self-justifications.

Then when my father came home around noon , I was almost always greeted with ice-cold beer, and of course his cigarette case was made.

Depending on what day he was that day, he could also be a regular guy. Of course, only if he really wanted to.

He brought his work home better, trying to brush up on the ignorant with a wide vision of what experiences he had managed to gather and gather that day .

Well, imagine a pregnant mother just giving birth on my bus! Almost unbelievable! - and did he really feel like a superhero whose job it was to save and help people, while who would save the superheroes ? The hotel is another matter!

- This is great! Congratulations! - I can't think of another word all of a sudden! I'm thinking! If I fail the English language exam I will be forced to get a fake in one of the markets so I can finally get my degree! It seems quite natural that the fact that the XXI. century, it is indeed appropriate to know and understand at least one living foreign language on some level. The only problem is that almost no one has thought about how the poorer or disadvantaged sections of society will achieve this.

If we take only my own example, it cost me one hundred and fifty thousand forints with all the cakompak cases and strings , but with the guarantee included - that: my teacher moves every stone to make it seem to others that I excelled in the exam.

I know that my dear reader will surely think now why this had to be done with so much nonsense and without stonewall, when others embark on a course and sooner or later, but only get the language exam. The answer is simple . Deadline tightened . By then, I had already slipped for a good year, since I should have graduated in two thousand and six, instead I handed over my official document in two thousand nine. I deliberately didn’t go to the graduation ceremony because I didn’t feel any kind of celebration, rather lethargic, self-inflicted sadness gripped me permanently.

- But sweet son! You really could have gone! We would have understood with your father! - my mother's words of consolation and support were very good at the time , but unfortunately I strongly doubt that anything would have been really used to my conscience. My mother is bound to think she was wondering what might have been the original reason I wasn’t at graduation?

Eventually, then, somehow, that too was forgotten or dropped from our family legend.

Soon I basics of English and simultaneously I was forcing him to once again greatly hated grammatical parts swot or even as a schoolboy studious, or try to understand, which is not heated struck my teeth, because I do not particularly care.

Finally, in the first week of November, the exam took place in the legendary and infamous Rigó Street, right next to Thirty-Two Square, which was still a massive underworld at the time , and was one of the favorite meeting places for prostitutes against Rákóczi Square.

Again, that annoying, frustrating, constantly angry, stomach cramp nervousness tensed in me, and the feeling of what the hell it takes to round up such a torture?

I once read the case of a famous writer in a literary online magazine. The particular successful writer, who was at the peak of his popularity, didn’t have a degree , and sooner or later he was told it wouldn’t hurt if he too sat back at the desk at last and got the official paper. The writer solved this by setting up a compartment with beer for the good-friend rector, who, as it turned out, was a good buddy of the writer from end to end, and they talked to each other while their conversation ended with the dean or rector working in that higher education. issued an official degree to the writer as if he had spent four years in college. Well, I'm not saying! It's all nice little charcoal .

The snow fell sooner after the English exam. I don’t like to round big butts for Christmas shopping. I prefer to move in a quiet incognito, so by the end of November at the latest, but before my birthday I bought everyone's present, I wouldn't forget my two old grandmothers, who - although they didn't show it - were really happy that their grandchild would at least think a lot about them .

Postal route was obtained in the English language exam certificate, and my mother was the very first thing that you're in a glass display case made it over one of the family in front of their photos when my father comes from work completely satisfied with the existing balance. Although even if he felt a sense of satisfaction in him, even in this my father did not dare to show his feelings with perfect certainty; he just shook his hand with his chunky hand in a friendly way, then we had lunch. And my wife kissed me with reality by licking her.

When we were done with that, despite my father’s stated intentions, I spent the next year at home transforming my nursery into a study between the four walls, and to the best of my knowledge, I was about to write the great novel of the decade. Or at least something that most people immediately raise their heads and look at with a curious amazement at the cover of a book cover and read the ear text to see what that book might be about?

The two grandmothers also strongly suggested that I rest a bit until I could find a striking dream job and only then immerse myself in the deep waters of life.

Didn’t I really really understand what was expected of me? It was only later that I realized the hidden causes of their more real motives. However , there was a history teacher in his twenties , who was still in his twenties and did not make sense to be able to become an integral part of the public education policy of our small country , but instead fiction and an obsessive supporter of contemporary culture. to be, and rather to prosper in this way. It also worked quite poorly.

In the years that followed, my father and I almost avoided the other as if we had become accomplices who weren’t even worth talking to each other at all. Our contact and communication experiments were mostly completely exhausted in the morning greetings and the usual How are you? in the title.

Later, this whole thing degenerated to the point where my father broke into the undisturbed, temporary ivory tower of my former nursery with a sly, almost stealthy gaze, and regularly questioned, as a man, what I wanted to finally start with myself in capital letters, after all, time was running out, and if he or mother dies, then it will