The cattle cars were blown through by the winds and covered with straw, mixed with mud, blood and despair. As a joke, they were overwhelmed with people huddling together in the vain hope of warming themselves up, despite the unrelenting peals of hunger and fear. At every rail junction, the hasty train coughed up, and several exhausted passengers fell dead.
By the end of the journey, there was not even a scrap of free space on the floor; everything was littered with the dead and those who were preparing to join them. But those who breathed confidently and looked around were brought under the sky in various shades — from golden to inky with a spray of milky milk — and, dressed in a striped robe, sent to barracks that were not much different from limbus.
Guests usually left this camp after taking a shower. They were taken into a cramped room with gurba and filled with gas to an alarming whisper that turned into a scream. After that, the prisoners squeezed into the crematorium chimney with a sweet cloud and finally found peace. But Laszlo was lucky to have real water running down his horrified face.
Before World War II, Laszlo was a promising Hungarian architect who went through Bauhaus auditoriums and who built several constructivist buildings. But with the Third Reich approaching and the focus shifted to pompous Roman architecture, the Nazis saw an ideological enemy in functional architecture, which deliberately descended to the same level as an individual.
If Laszlo lost only his job, which, together with his wife, was the love of his life, it would be a tragedy. But he was faced with a circle of hell that Dante never got to. A concentration camp, crematoriums that never cease, mountains of no man's shoes, hunger, separation from loved ones and the absence of a glimmer of hope. Death seemed to bring beautiful things to their knees.
After being resurrected and released, Laszlo was left with nothing. The burnt guns of the old world were scattered all around; they had no strength to assemble or build anything new and beautiful on their rookery. Therefore, the main character decided to cross the ocean and be reborn among its salt waters. A world full of grief and barriers has been left behind.
When Laszlo arrives in the United States, it's not so much a new chapter in her familiar life as she tries to split up, but is eager in the process. A strung thread bursts to the limit with a ringing buzz: the past turns into a nightmare, and the present becomes an unfriendly companion. The earth is opening up and new ones are growing in place of the old walls.
It turns out that not the whole world has looked into the empty sockets of war. Therefore, Laszlo, whom the Americans call Mr. Toth, enters a new battlefield. But this time, it's not people themselves who are fighting, but entire universes. One of them is well-fed, serene and has never known tragedies. The other one rose from the dead and lost all illusions about what was happening.
By chance, which looks suspiciously like a cruel joke with overcrowded wagons, Mr. Toth gets the hand of the local nouveau riche. He makes a once-enthusiastic architect an offer that no creative person can dismiss. On a green hill, it is necessary to build a massive building that will remind you of the grandeur of the deceased Bauhaus.
The main topic of “The Brutalist” is the heterogeneity of the world in which humanity swarms. Contrary to the loud name, no world war has truly penetrated the collective consciousness. While some were burying their loved ones, risking their own lives and trying to come to terms with the absurdity of life, others were raising children, furnishing new homes, and drinking with friends.
Although for Laszlo, a trip to the New World was the only opportunity for a decent life, he clearly did not expect the reception that friendly Americans would provide. The self-sufficient society once created by immigrants did not need Mr. Toth. Humiliation, barracks and the constant expectation of death have been replaced by poverty, drug abuse and neglect.
But returning to his favorite job inspires Mr. Toth again. Despite the difficulties, he begins to think that there is nothing that a person cannot reconcile with. But every compromise is followed by longing, which one day will squeeze out all other feelings. Joy, interest, and the ability to love and show affection will sink to the bottom of the lake, into which tears have been dripping for years.
Architecture is becoming not so much the vocation of the main character as a synonym for creativity and creation as such. The neighborhood between Mr. Toth, who has plunged deep into the waters of Styx, and the well-fed ordinary people who have watched the bloodshed through the keyhole for years puts eternity and everyday life at odds.
While some are chasing immediate profit and indulging in their vices, Laszlo comes to terms with his new name and the alienation of the entire country aimed at it, but even at this moment he does not lose faith that the fruits of human thought and perseverance are much larger than any person. Comfort and prosperity pale not only in front of the monumentality of concrete, which can outlast any person, but also by the banal idea born by this very man.
The catch is that it was creative people who destroyed Laszlo's world in a collective frenzy. They razed the fruits of his imagination to the ground, separated him from his family and showed the true face of injustice. But if in the “The Zone of Interest” (read our text) the evil hid behind very banal comfort, but in “The Brutalist” it hides behind a double-breasted suit and a perfectly trimmed mustache. Evil will be everywhere there are people, because they go hand in hand through the ages.
Laszlo, who escaped from the gas chamber and hurriedly said goodbye to death, crossed the ocean hoping for a decent life. He was attracted to his honest work, creativity and a desire to rise above his horrors. But people who did not think in final categories isolated themselves from him with their own well-being and grinded their teeth in fear. In fear of injuries that cannot be healed simply because they have cut off the entire human race.
