Barna Imre - Kérdezd meg tőle

"He didn't know what I was up to. I had planned for a while to tell him sooner or later (or should I rather admit it?), because how would he take it if he found out by accident, but I only dared to hint, I put it off. I was afraid , that he would protest, of course I would be obstinate and thereby commit yet another betrayal. Although if I had to play him one more time - I thought more and more decisively - by settling the unspoken relationship between the two of us like this at the last moment, before he died, then this would be the one treason is enough. If it's treason, let me make peace with it. It's not for me. So I slowly let go of the pretense. And in the end, he didn't even know that I was writing a book about it, nor why it was so important. And the rest , which has yet to be revealed.
But it's not about him, of course (and especially not about me or us), but about a story. I have to write that somehow. The story of the narrator named Barabás."

This is a strange and unusual story. The journey of Barabás (the father's son) from Siberia to Szentendre, then from Budapest to Moscow, between birth and death, between Russian, Hungarian and Jewish destiny, takes seemingly unbelievable turns through minefields here and there, there and back. However, stories - such as these - tend to repeat themselves. And then, despite their riddles, they may have a lesson.