First Impression Friday will be a meme where you talk about a book that you JUST STARTED! Maybe you’re only a chapter or two in, maybe a little farther. Based on this sampling of your current read, give a few impressions and predict what you’ll think by the end.

Synopsis:

The Melancholy of Resistance, László Krasznahorkai’s magisterial, surreal novel, depicts a chain of mysterious events in a small Hungarian town. A circus, promising to display the stuffed body of the largest whale in the world, arrives in the dead of winter, prompting bizarre rumors. Word spreads that the circus folk have a sinister purpose in mind, and the frightened citizens cling to any manifestation of order they can find – music, cosmology, fascism. The novel’s characters are unforgettable: the evil Mrs. Eszter, plotting her takeover of the town; her weakling husband; and Valuska, our hapless hero with his head in the clouds, who is the tender center of the book, the only pure and noble soul to be found.

Compact, powerful and intense, The Melancholy of Resistance, as its enomoursly gifted translator George Szirtes puts it, “is a slow lava flow of narrative, a vast black river of type.” And yet, miraculously, the novel, in the words of The Guardian, “lifts the reader along in lunar leaps and bounds.”

It’s the end of the workweek—yay! Finally, the weekend is here. Thankfully, the past three days were holidays here in the Philippines: December 30 to commemorate our National Hero, Dr. Jose Rizal; December 31, the last day of the year; and January 1 for New Year’s Day. Well, I am currently in between jobs. Regardless, I am looking forward to my new one. Anyway, I hope everyone was able to—or will be able to—finish the workweek on a high note. I hope you accomplished all your tasks or at least made significant progress toward them. It’s now time to dress down and let your hair down—to dive into the weekend! I hope you get to spend this brief reprieve wisely, whether by simply resting and taking a break from the rigors of a tedious career, pursuing your passions, completing household chores or other tasks you put on hold, or spending time with your family and loved ones. I hope you’re all doing well—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

With the workweek coming to a close, it’s time for a fresh First Impression Friday update. Over the years, this blogging meme has become an essential part of my weekly book-blogging routine. Not only is it the perfect way to close the week, but it is also a great opportunity to take a reading breather while reflecting on my current read. These updates have also become springboards for my eventual book reviews. I am also reminded that this is my first First Impression Friday update of the year. Whoa—how time flies! We have been provided with a fresh set of 365 blank canvases. I hope we all fill them with wonderful memories—ones we will cherish for a lifetime. With the New Year comes a new reading adventure. I have decided to commence a foray into the works of Latin American literature. However, my opening salvo for 2026 is by the recently awarded Nobel Laureate in Literature, László Krasznahorkai: The Melancholy of Resistance.

Interestingly, it was during the lead-up to the announcement of the 2018 Nobel Prize in Literature awardee that I first came across the Hungarian writer. Krasznahorkai and his countryman, Péter Nádas, were among those considered shoo-ins for the award; however, the announcement was suspended for a year due to controversies within the Swedish Academy. Neither Hungarian writer was awarded the Prize when it was announced in 2019, but they both piqued my interest, prompting me to venture into their oeuvres. When Krasznahorkai was announced as the 2025 laureate, literary pundits and the reading public alike—including me—agreed that it was a well-deserved recognition. Because of this, I acquired a couple of Krasznahorkai’s works and even immediately delved into The Melancholy of Resistance, a book many consider his magnum opus.

Originally published in Hungarian in 1989 as Az ellenállás melankóliája, the novel was eventually translated into English in 2000. Like his debut novel Sátántangó, The Melancholy of Resistance transports readers to an anonymous and run-down Hungarian town. The novel opens with Mrs. Plauf, a woman who endures a rather stressful return home from a visit. A canceled train service forces her to share a carriage with the unwashed masses. She wanders the streets of the town with a foreboding sense that an ominous disaster could strike at any time. Her fear begins to manifest upon her arrival in the desolate town. She witnesses lawlessness and encounters the arrival of a mysterious circus truck. The circus advertises the showing of the body of an enormous whale—having nothing else to exhibit. Confused and laden with anxieties, Mrs. Plauf seeks solace in her orderly apartment.

Her sense of harmony, however, is disrupted by the arrival of the formidable Mrs. Tünde Eszter. She confides in Mrs. Plauf about her plan to manipulate her estranged husband, György Eszter, through Valuska, Mrs. Plauf’s son. Valuska is the village idiot, disowned by his own mother. He is merely tolerated—more than accepted—by the locals. Interestingly, the only person who appreciates him is Eszter, a world-weary musician. His weariness has become so overwhelming that he has opted not to leave his house; he rises from his bed only occasionally. However, his wife, a master of propaganda, wants him to participate in her new project to bring order to the decaying town. When Mrs. Plauf rejects Mrs. Eszter’s proposition, the draconian woman directly approaches Valuska to enlist his help in blackmailing her estranged husband into doing her bidding. She threatens to move back in with Mr. Eszter if he does not cooperate.

All the while, one senses that the town is slowly descending into chaos. There is a dreadful sense of the apocalypse. The trains run sporadically. The streets overflow with rubbish. With the streetlights broken, nervous inhabitants must make their way home cautiously after dark. There is a looming sense of doom. The manipulative and highly ambitious Mrs. Eszter emerges as one of the primary drivers of this doom, which further intensifies with the arrival of the circus. The circus is seemingly central to the story, for it defies logic. What circus has only a dead whale to exhibit? It serves as another catalyst for the pervasive sense of dread. Yet despite the darkness that permeates the story, there is something satirical about the entire setup. After all, this is Krasznahorkai, who is renowned for his dark humor.

The Melancholy of Resistance reminds me of Krasznahorkai’s other works—at least those I have read so far. The sense of doom and hopelessness that permeates an unnamed Hungarian town is reminiscent of Sátántangó and Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming. All the towns featured in these three novels anchor their hopes on the arrival of a messianic figure, or at least a major catalyst. In the case of The Melancholy of Resistance, it is the circus, although a character named the Prince serves as its embodiment. Long sentences and paragraphs are also trademarks of Krasznahorkai’s writing. Reading his works is always a unique experience. He masterfully blends surrealism with universal themes and, in the process, creates a compelling read.

This third Krasznahorkai novel I’ve read has certainly gotten me invested. I’m looking forward to seeing how the story pans out. How about you, fellow reader? What book—or books—are you reading this weekend? I hope you’re enjoying your current read. Happy weekend!