The Attempt
Authors: Magdaléna Platzová
P
RAISE FOR
The Attempt
“Magdaléna Platzová's lively prose keeps readers on tenterhooks while tracing the troubled history of an industrialist's family and fortune and the rise and fall of anarchism.”
â
Edith Kurzweil,
former editor of
Partisan Review,
and author of
Full Circle: A Memoir
“[A] carefully crafted story, written in a lucid and refined language. . . .
The Attempt
examines the perennial questions of social order, sacrifice and self-sacrifice, freedom, and acceptability of violence as the conditions for change. These questions catch us by surprise in our post-utopian times, especially when an East European author of Platzová's generation raises them. But [she] succeeds in her attempt to bring these questions to life and show their relevance; she does it without ideology and with urgency, which make the novel a pleasure to read.”
â
Veronika Tuckerova,
Preceptor in Slavic Languages and Literatures, Harvard University
P
RAISE FOR
Aaron's Leap
“Beautifully written, with masterful creation of atmosphere and sculpting of the main characters. The translation . . . is excellent and true to Platzová's artful prose.”
â
World Literature Today
“The characters in this book are multi-dimensional. . . . Art and modern thought are at the center of [their] lives and they find ways to seek truth through art, love, and friendship, inviting the reader to join them on this journey of self-discovery.”
â
Jewish Book Council /
Jewish Book World
“A moving, humane tale of life lived in history's long shadow.”
â
Booklist
(starred review)
“Platzová's prose is as sharp and effective as the angles of an expressionist monument. . . . [A] powerfully elegiac novel.”
â
Publishers Weekly
“A Czech novel about art, death and sex set against the backdrop of the Holocaust and never-ending war. . . . The reader comes to connect with and care for [Platzová's] characters as more than mouthpieces for history.”
â
Kirkus Reviews
“Aaron's Leap
takes you on an epic journey, which is also a very intimate and personal storyâentertaining, touching and brutally honest. Her characters are full of compassion and tenderness, but are never sentimental. It's a great book.”
â
Agnieszka Holland,
Academy Award-nominated writer and director of
Europa Europa
and guest director of HBO's
The Wire
and Netflix's
House of Cards
“This young author's book immediately caught my interest for its narrative mastery and remarkably skillful identification with the complex atmosphere of the interbellum era. . . . [A] brilliant novel.”
â
Ivan KlÃma,
Franz Kafka Prize-winning author of
Waiting for the Dark, Waiting for the Light
and
My Crazy Century
“Told in clear and beautiful prose,
Aaron's Leap
is a deeply moving portrait of love, sacrifice, and the transformative power of art in a time of brutal uncertainty.”
âSimon Van Booy,
author of
The Illusion of Separateness
First Published in the United States in 2016 by
Bellevue Literary Press, New York
For Information Contact:
Bellevue Literary Press
NYU School of Medicine
550 First Avenue, OBV A612
New York, NY 10016
Copyright © 2016 by Magdaléna Platzová
Translation Copyright © 2016 by Alex Zucker
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.
The Attempt
is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, incidents and places are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Originally published in Czech as
Anarchista
© 2013 Torst and Madaléna Platzová.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available from the publisher upon request.
Bellevue Literary Press would like to thank all its generous donorsâindividuals and foundationsâfor their support.
This publication is made possible by grants from:
This translation was made possible by a grant from the Ministry of Culture of the Czech Republic.
The New York State Council on the Arts with the support of Governor Andrew Cuomo and the New York State Legislature
This project is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.
Book design and composition by Mulberry Tree Press, Inc.
first edition
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ebook ISBN 978-1-942658-09-2
For JiÅÃ
To be a man, a complete MAN.
â Alexander Berkman
Contents
B
Y THE TIME
I
GOT TO THE CAMP,
it was already dark. I went straight from the airport. It was a cool October night, drizzly, with a wind blowing in from the west. The wind was stronger toward the southern tip of the island, swirling through the old tenements with their strings of tiny lighted windows.
I had a backpack, a warm coat, and a sleeping bag.
I breathed in the damp smell of underground and fog that always lets me know I'm in Manhattan.
I stopped at the outer edge of the encampment, on the border where it ended and the police zone began: service vehicles with flashing lights, vans, extension ladders. Dozens of raincoated cops.
The camp was set in the ground below street level. I walked down the stairs. At first, all I could see were dark sheets of plastic, billowing and snapping in the wind like sails.
Once my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I was able to make out the people squeezed in at the eastern end, where the stairs formed a kind of amphitheater. They stood calmly and quietly, letting the water run over them. Nobody had an umbrella. A girl was explaining the voting rules. Her voice kept getting lost in the gusts of wind, but the ones closest to her repeated her words loudly after each sentence, so even the people all the way in the back could hear.
I walked down the main path, which ran from east to west through the improvised shelters. I passed the kitchen, where homeless people lined up for food; an information table and a station distributing warm clothes; a tent with a sign on it proudly proclaiming
LIBRARY.
At the lower end of the square, I found myself alone. Across the street, cranes jutted skyward around the floodlit skeleton of the unfinished new World Trade Center. I found the tree, encircled by a ring of granite benches.
I picked up two sheets of the cardboard that was lying around everywhere. I put my backpack down on one and sat down on the other. The rain was letting up. I spotted a few stars in the cracks between the scudding clouds.
I pulled out my phone and texted: “I'm here. Waiting at tree. Jan”
A moment later, an answer beeped back: “Five min. Marius”
