Gør som tusindvis af andre bogelskere
Tilmeld dig nyhedsbrevet og få gode tilbud og inspiration til din næste læsning.
Ved tilmelding accepterer du vores persondatapolitik.Du kan altid afmelde dig igen.
Fragments is a sequel to Infinitybut can be read as its own story'She is a true ice princess. Beautiful and delicate, but her heart doesn't seem to be warm. I have visions that it is not even beating, that I have imagined she is real and she is just a figment of my distressed imagination. It is the first unravelling I have experienced. Sure, I fell apart after Kiára's death and I existed in a mist until I met Lilla but this is a splintering feeling. As though I am cracking like a mirror and shards of my personality are starting to fall to the ground.'Two years after the death of the love of his life, István cannot move on. He is ill with bipolar disorder and is convinced the answer is to find the image of his dead love in someone else. He meets Lilla on a Budapest street; young, fragile and impressionable and he is desperate to possess her. However, Lilla has her own darkness and over time, István's jealousy, his anger, and his violent obsession turn her into someone who carelessly smashes his heart into fragments.
"You will end up killing each other. It will be disastrous. Stop this relationship now with this volatile man and find someone who is normal and nice, Kiára. Find a stable rock of a man who is not a volcano. Listen to my advice, for God's sake."I should follow this advice as the shrink knows what he is talking about. But damn the rock. I rip up the guidebook and the map and plunge into the forest of thorns for pleasure and pain. Obsessive love and hate know no limits and the spikes of their extremes propel me into eternity.I want to flat-line but I can't. Not now I have met István, the first king of Hungary.I want to stop the bright colours and sharp edges that make us Kiára and István. I want to trade in the swirling dizzy vortex of Italian Futurist art for the softness of a Monet. Just for one day I want to live without this bipolar illness which has dragged me into the Heaven and Hell which is my Hungary.Maybe you waited a thousand years for me as you said, István. Maybe it is all a myth. I only know there is no end for us, no rest and no escape.There is only infinity.
Tilmeld dig nyhedsbrevet og få gode tilbud og inspiration til din næste læsning.
Ved tilmelding accepterer du vores persondatapolitik.