From the very beginning of her career in the 1980s, she has consistently approached Hungarian literature, guided by the methodological discipline that writers from beyond the borders are held to the same rigorous aesthetic standards as those from the motherland. However, the interpretive scope of criticism must also consider the intellectual and political-historical background of the region and milieu in which the works were created. In the first collected selection of her early, study-oriented critiques (Olvasópróbák [lit. Proofreadings], 1994), the foundational principles that continue to shape her literary perspective are already evident. Notably, artistic accomplishment and aesthetic value take precedence over all other considerations. At the same time, in shaping the literary canon—finally evolving after 1990—it is necessary to “rethink what it means to be Hungarian,” meaning that questions of identity “cannot be avoided” (Szózat-variációk [lit. Variations to Szózat, the Szózat in English: ‘The Appeal’, is a Hungarian patriotic song, written in 1836 by Mihály Vörösmarty]. Even early reviewers of her first book noted that “her value system and arguments are not determined by exclusivity or the desire to rank hierarchically, but rather by an explanatory intent built on thorough preparation, discerning taste, and consistent moral judgment” (Miklós Csűrös). This observation is significant because the mentioned attitude and critical methodology have become more nuanced and deepened over the decades. Today, Györgyi Pécsi’s critical oeuvre has taken on a panoramic character: volume by volume, over decades, she traces the work of authors she considers significant. Thus, if one places her interpretations of individual works in chronological order, one can read monographic studies of entire careers. Here are just a few of the authors whose canonical evaluation she has fundamentally shaped: Sándor Csoóri, László Nagy, Gáspár Nagy, Sándor Kányádi, Árpád Tőzsér, Domokos Szilágyi, Béla Markó, Nándor Gion, István Ágh, Gábor Albert, György Ferdinandy, Géza Szőcs, Géza Páskándi, Dezső Tandori, István Ferenczes, among others. She also attentively reviews the works of the most talented members of younger generations, and in some cases supports them in an editorial capacity.
Györgyi Pécsi belongs to the generation of literary scholars that emerged in the 1980s, a group that sought to challenge the ideologically driven literary canon of socialism. Her critical attention is therefore deliberately focused on authors and works that had received little – or no – recognition under the previous normative system. Her most challenging task is to strike a balance between extremes: between the earlier realism-based literature and the new postmodern interpretations that often express themselves tautologically through their meta-linguistic approach, or between the opposing perspectives of the ‘népi’ (‘populist’) and the ‘urban’ [‘népi írók’ «populist writers» was a radical intellectual, literary current of the 1920s–30s in Hungary, their characteristic genre was the sociographic essay, focussing on the misery of the broad masses engaged in agriculture]. As the author of the carefully planned, sequentially structured volumes Proofreadings (1994, with a second volume in 2003) and Írások és olvasások [lit. Writings and Readings] (2007 and 2011), as well as their interconnected series of interpretations, Pécsi creates a systematic conceptual framework in which works of radically different character – according to previous evaluative criteria – can be approached with relative confidence. While she personally identifies as ‘conservative’ in a broad intellectual-historical sense, she does not interrogate the ideological or other commitments of the authors she analyses. Instead, she carefully examines the aesthetic realization of each work – often comparing contemporary output with analogous motifs in both Hungarian and world literature – and draws conclusions not about the author’s worldview, but about the image of the world and the ethical framework conveyed by the text itself. In a truly creative work, tension is always present: conflicts between depicted realities and perspectives can often be discerned. Clarification and simplification, however, are neither the task of true literature nor of the critic.
Her first monograph on Árpád Tőzsér (1995) follows with remarkable sensitivity and nuance the tension inherent in the author’s creative identity – caught between the ‘népi’ (‘populist’) and the ‘urban,’ between attitudes of preserving poetic tradition and provocative renewal, and the tendency toward ‘depoetization.’ From this, Pécsi derives Tőzsér’s uniquely Hungarian interpretation of Central European identity: “’Mittelség’ [lit. ‘in-betweenness’] is thus a peculiar intellectual formation in our region… a kind of zeitgeist, even a stylistic trend.” Observing the arc of Tőzsér’s career as it approaches the present, particularly in his work from Felvidék (Upper Hungary), she notes the increasing influence of Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, and existential philosophy, yet even with a firm awareness of mortality, Tőzsér never questions the value of creation: “I do not know a contemporary poet so convinced of the certainty of poetry.” Over the decades, the monograph attempts to unravel the “schizophrenic state” in which, although Tőzsér defines himself as an “urban-bourgeois-oriented” creator, the “urban canon” does not respond to his endeavours, while professional recognition comes “only from the ‘népi’ (‘populist’) tradition” (Egy költészet természetrajza [lit. The Natural History of a Poetry], 2015). Similarly nuanced, Pécsi applies her interpretive toolkit to examine the unclassifiable habitus and poetic approach of perhaps the most popular contemporary poet, Sándor Kányádi. Building on the unassailable legacy of national classicism, Kányádi subtly moves, for example, “toward postmodern textual construction through the demonstrative use of paratexts.” In one aspect of her analysis, Pécsi observes how the poet, by deconstructing the sacred act of poetic language, metaphorically brings the poem into the public sphere. In another, she focuses on the ethos emerging from the poet’s search for direction and the horizon of meaning in his works. She notes that the creator, drawing on the folk traditions of Transylvanian villages and reflecting on the severe political contradictions of the 1960s, performs the “gesture of distancing from the concept of ‘népi’ (‘populist’)” as a conscious engagement with tradition, while simultaneously maintaining an ongoing “dialogue with the twentieth-century, supposedly modern artistic attitude that denies the service aspect of art.” To this day, this remains Györgyi Pécsi’s best-known and most widely read book, which has also generated the largest body of analytical criticism and reviews (Sándor Kányádi [Monograph], 2003).
If not in the form of a monograph, then in a series of studies, it interprets the career arcs of our contemporary artists with a similar depth of ambition. Most strikingly, and shockingly (as a cultivator of the genre of objective value mediation), his series of interpretations of Domokos Szilágyi's poetry - spanning decades - has led those familiar with this important literary oeuvre to reconsider questions of literary theory and moral philosophy, as certain documents of recruitment [as an agent] that have been made public have done. Which, literary historiography might have thought, was reassuringly placed in the 20th-century canon, not only by a radical renewal of poetic language but also by a moral value system that appealed to the nation. If we merely juxtapose Györgyi Pécsi's analyses of Szilágyi, published in recent years or presented at conferences, which increasingly understand and explore the values of his oeuvre, we can already see the outlines of a major monograph (Formaváltás és új identitás [lit. Change of Form and New Identity], Korszerűbb formanyelv felé [lit. Towards a More Modern Formal Language], A virrasztás értelme [lit. The Meaning of The Vigil], Közjáték: az ember halála [lit. Interlude: The Death of Man], “Határokon járok örökké” [lit. I Walk on Borders Forever], etc.). The reason why this ambitious train of thought could not be assembled into a genuine monograph is explained in Az értelmezés zavara (lit. The Confusion of Interpretation). The Hungarian reader, and especially the literary historian-critic who has grown up believing in the idea of the national service of populist literature, cannot avoid the question, based on the known ethical considerations: have I read Domokos Szilágyi's poems differently since then? [i.e. since the revelation of his agent's past]. We must reckon with the contradiction between our entire knowledge of literary history, our belief in the nation-building power of culture, and the facts that have been revealed. "The poet...builds the culture, the tradition, the temple of the nation, and for us, a small nation struggling to survive, the incorruptibility of the poet was a kind of minimum." The conscientious critic tries to find out, using social science methods, "when the moral ignorance of the priests of Hungarian literature began to decline", and although she cannot find a point of rest in her thought, she refuses to lose her faith that the moral message of our national literature, accumulated over centuries, is still valid. “People can be corrupted, the written text – perhaps – cannot.”
This kind of (self-)critical approach to our literature empowers Györgyi Pécsi to engage, in her writings that extend beyond purely critical activity and operate with theoretical considerations – a segment of her work in its own right – with a privileged perspective on the works of authors who articulate their beliefs, dilemmas, and doubts regarding the values described above. It also enables her to enter into principled debates with those who completely deny the national role of literature. We must recognize that, by the early twenty-first century, the function of culture had changed in historically unprecedented ways, creating an almost opaque gulf between the value-centered perspectives of older generations and those of the newest. The transatlantic cultural outlook focuses only on the present and expresses itself in the terminology of business. The contemporary “canon-forming elite” has adapted to these circumstances, and as a result, “the new knowledge industry [i.e., pervasive electronic media] has marginalized literature.” In this context, the earlier dilemmas of literature – such as the ‘népi’ (‘populist’)–urban confrontation – pale in comparison to the industrial-scale trivialization of genuine aesthetic values: “I see this as a graver problem than whether a writer assumes the traditional representative role” (“Az istenek halnak, az ember él” [lit. “The Gods Die, Man Lives”] Hitel, 2012/2). Within this framework, a later reflection gains added significance: the view that a self-proclaimed ‘urban’ poetess still labours to pit literary factions against one another, rejecting anyone who does not exclusively continue the spirit of the former Nyugat and Újhold, which, according to Zsófia Balla, “was and remains the only valid canon.” Pécsi, who – within this narrowed perspective – is “less and less interested in the ‘current canon,’” responds to this ethical paradox with her own stance: “I tolerate thinking differently, even if someone thinks differently than I do.” In her panoramic view, she also envisions “a twentieth-century literary history that, in synchrony, without borders, inclusively takes stock of the values accepted by consensus.” (Fél korsó belga sör. Hozzászólás Balla Zsófia székfoglalójához [lit. Half a Pint of Belgian Beer. Commentary on Zsófia Balla’s Inaugural Lecture], Irodalmi Jelen, 23 May 2016)
Considering the line of reasoning outlined above, Györgyi Pécsi’s treatise Honvágy egy hazáért (lit. Longing for a Homeland, Kortárs, 2018/7–8) can be seen as a kind of conclusive summary addressing the functions of national, and above all contemporary, literature. Although its subtitle appears to focus on two regions (Identitásváltozások a rendszerváltozások után induló erdélyi és vajdasági írók műveiben [lit. Changes in Identity in the Works of Transylvanian and Vojvodina Writers After the Political Transitions]), the observations she makes are in fact applicable to Hungarian literature as a whole. Following a general historical-political overview (noting that since Trianon, “the Hungarians living in minority and the state-forming nations of the successor states have not moved an inch closer”), she establishes one of literature’s widely recognized foundational functions as a principle: “From the outset, minority Hungarian literature has played a decisive role in preserving Hungarian identity and sustaining the question of survival.” As the thesis develops, a functional shift becomes apparent: after the political transitions, freer political circumstances and other fields assumed this centuries-old role of Hungarian literature. Pécsi examines the changes in minority literatures with philological precision, breaking them down by author, work, and theme, and then draws generalizable conclusions, aiming to map a forward-looking trajectory for the existence of national literature. The new generations of literature beyond the borders seek to break out of the perpetual minority role without assuming responsibility for divisions within Hungary itself. At the same time, they experience their homeland outside Hungary as a regional source of self-worth. While Pécsi does not offer an optimistic future after rationally dismantling a series of century-old illusions, she underscores the inevitability of a shift in literary consciousness: “If we accept that there is a single Hungarian literature, then… literature written in Hungary alone is incomplete and only becomes whole together with that produced in the minority communities.” In other words, Hungarians living as minorities can be natural participants in the universal Hungarian literary tradition without renouncing their distinctiveness.
Györgyi Pécsi’s compulsion to attend to every literary phenomenon, combined with her intellectual flexibility in responding to innovations emerging from the surge of information technology, has led her to engage with genres typically practiced by younger writers. Her short, concise, and quick-response pieces focus on books, events, and phenomena she considers subjectively important. Fortunately, they are not shallow social-media posts but rather take forms reminiscent of the early modern press (late 19th century), such as columns, sketches, glosses, or notes. (It will be the task of philologists to collect her numerous such writings published in Nagyítás, or in online editions of Bárka, Székelyföld, Irodalmi Jelen, and elsewhere.) Due to their personal and sometimes provocative tone, these texts hover on the boundary between journalism and literature, hinting at new possibilities that may emerge within her oeuvre.
They stand, as it were, between the beginning of her career and her most recent publications, engaging in a kind of literary dialogue. The earlier work, Röghöz kötötten (lit. Tethered to the Land) (Budapest, Szépirodalmi Kiadó, 1990), employs sociographic methods and vivid character portrayals to depict the society of her native village and the human fates within it. The more recent work, Körülbelül négyezer (lit. About Fourthousand) (Kortárs, 2018/12), records memories of the same small world through the subject’s perspective, detailing the natural, material, and human environment with an intimacy reminiscent of Margit Kaffka [Hungarian writer and poet, 1880-1918].
The principle outlined at the start regarding her central value preferences applies equally to her non-publication activities: the volumes she has edited, the book series she has overseen, and her role as moderator at author events all reflect the critical spirit, and the interplay of aesthetic and moral values, that characterize her work. As an editor, she also seeks to counter, within the limits imposed by circumstances, the phenomena she termed a “Copernican turn” in the 21st century, namely the devaluation of quality culture. She has consistently acted against all symptoms of cultural decline, as she observed at the turn of the millennium: “Hungarian cultural life, Hungarian culture itself, has become Americanized, moving toward mass entertainment” (Szépirodalmi Figyelő, 2002/3). From a retrospective perspective, her intention to preserve and transmit cultural values has been most effectively realized through the creation and continuous operation of Új Könyvpiac (lit. New Bookmarket). During the long transitional period following the regime change, there were difficult intervals when this was the only forum that presented, defended, and supported high culture in its noble sense, countering the flood of commercialized, low-quality material dominating the marketplaces.
[2019]