A slemíl keservei

A whimsical yet incisive portrait opens in late‑19th‑century Budapest, where a young man named Slemíl wrestles with a peculiar condition that the narrator calls “slemíl‑ness”: a constant awareness that anything he tries is shadowed by misfortune, paired with an ironic blend of intellect and hesitation. Through a lively mix of poetry, philosophical asides and vivid street‑level observation, the book sketches his childhood, his family’s bemused naming rituals, and the social expectations that press on his fragile confidence.

The narrative unfolds in a lyrical, fragmentary style that feels like a conversation with a restless poet‑philosopher. Listeners will hear sharp satire aimed at both the pretensions of the literary elite and the everyday absurdities of city life, all while following Slemíl’s attempts to find a voice amid doubt. The first act sets up his internal conflict and the colorful world around him, promising a thoughtful, humor‑tinged journey through identity, ambition and the peculiar mathematics of human folly.