His works were in Hungarian. If we are being honest, he probably won the Nobel for his translated works as much as his originals. Or, how many Nobel committee members are fluent in Hungarian?
Or something like this, just trying to express that I've never really thought about it like that. That we don't really interact with original works when we read/listen to translated works and thus we can't really say anything about the originals.
I'm biased because I lived down the street from a bookstore connected to a translation publishing house, but I can't recommend translated fiction enough for opening one's eyes to the weird relationship between a person, their language, and the works they read.
There is a bookstore in Vancouver with a section of translations which is reliably fruitful when I visit. The last book I bought there was a translation of Yuri Herrera's Season of the Swamp. I devoured it, even though I agree that I wish it were more fleshed out. It made me think about reading some of his work in Spanish even though it would be a long process for me. I enjoyed the effort in spanish literature class, maybe I can do it again.
On the topic of the OP, I struggled with Satantango on more than one occasion over the last 12 years. For whatever reason I couldn't get through it, but I've carried the book around through several moves. Maybe I'll try again.
I commented elsewhere: Satantango is easily my least favorite LK so far. If you want to try something else, I would recommend The Melancholy of Resistance as a novel with similar concerns but better execution, War & War as a metafictional odyssey, or the short stories.
Or something like this, just trying to express that I've never really thought about it like that. That we don't really interact with original works when we read/listen to translated works and thus we can't really say anything about the originals.
Small mind blown moment!