Stephen Vizinczey
Hungarian author who studied under George Lukacs at the University of Budapest and graduated from the city's Academy of Theatre and Film Arts in 1956. Three of his plays were banned by the Hungarian Communist regime and in he took part in the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. After a short stay in Italy, he ended up in Canada speaking only 50 words of English, and eventually taking Canadian citizenship. He learned English writing scripts for Canada's National Film Board and the CBC. He edited Canada's short-lived literary magazine, Exchange. In 1966 he moved to London and acquired British citizenship.
His best-known works are the novels 'In Praise of Older Women' (1965) and 'An Innocent Millionaire' (1983).
Vizinczey has also written two books of literary, philosophical and political essays: 'The Rules of Chaos' (1969) and 'Truth and Lies in Literature' (1985).
“I wonder, what kind of life would I have had if it hadn’t been for my mother’s tea-and-cookie parties? Perhaps it’s because of them that I’ve never thought of women as my enemies, as territories I have to conquer, but always as allies and friends - which I believe is the reason why they were friendly to me in turn. I’ve never met those she-devils you hear about: they must be too busy with those men who look upon women as a fortress they have to attack, lay waste and left in ruins.”
“Strange as it seems, no amount of learning can cure stupidity, and higher education positively fortifies it.”
“We think of ourselves as failures, rather than renounce our belief in the possibility of perfection. We hang on to the hope of eternal love by denying even its temporary validity. It´s less painful to think 'I'm shallow', 'She's self centred', 'We couldn't communicate', 'It was all just physical', than to accept the simple fact that love is a passing sensation, for reasons beyond our control and even beyond our personalities. But who can reassure himself with his own rationalizations? No argument can fill the void of a dead feeling -- that reminder of the ultimate void, our final inconstancy. We're untrue even to life.”
“I suppose it's more unnerving to be a boy than a girl,' she conceded.'It's the boys who have to make fools of themselves.”
“I had affairs with a few girls of my own age, and they taught me that no girl, however intelligent and war-hearted, can possibly know or feel half as much at twenty as she will at thirty-five.”
“Consistency is a virtue for trains: what we want from a philosopher is insights, whether he comes by them consistently or not.”
“You tell me your favorite novelists and I'll tell you whom you vote for, or whether you vote at all.”