In 1933 the travel writer Patrick Leigh Fermor
began trekking across Europe,
reaching Cluj in July 1934. As he would describe half a century
later:
It was Cluj to the Rumanians
[sic], Klausenburg to the early Saxon settlers who founded or
re-founded it, but, inexpugnably and immutably to the
Hungarians, Kolozsvár… The town wasn’t as perilous as it would
have been in the winter season, with its parties and theatres
and the opera in full blast… The old city was full of
town-houses and palaces, most of them empty now, with their
owners away for the harvest. Thanks to this, István [Fermor’s
traveling companion] had telephoned and borrowed a set of
handsome vaulted rooms in one of them, not far from
the house where Matthias Corvinus
was born.
By then the Ehrlichs had been gone from Cluj for over a decade.
Not till 2009 would their grandson Matthew come to explore Matei
Corvin Street, “just north of the city square in the oldest part
of Cluj. The street is named for the house where the Hungarian
king is said to have been born in 1443. That house is at the
end of the street and is marked by a plaque the Romanians put up
after they assumed control of Transylvania from Hungary. Some
have
interpreted the plaque as a dig at the Hungarians.”
according to historical
tradition
this is the house where
matthias corvinus
the son of the great voivode of transylvania
iancu of hunedoara
was born
the romanian matthias corvinus is considered
the greatest of all hungarian kings
due to his achievements during his reign
1456-1490
“My real interest, however, was in the house next door—where my
grandparents lived and had a millinery business in the years
just after World War I, and where my father’s sister Martha was
born. As it turns out, this house is now home to a bar catering
to the local college crowd. It’s called the King Club, with the
regicidal-sounding website www.clubtheking.ro.
The club is in the basement and features regular live bands…
One shouldn’t get the idea that the area has become seedy.
Looking back up Matei Corvin toward the city center, one sees
shops and restaurants, and in the middle of the day, the streets
are full of people. The king’s birthplace is now home to an
arts school and has a small sculpture garden in back. The
building next door where my grandparents once lived now seems to
host a variety of apartments and offices in addition to the
bar. There’s an outside stairway accessing some of the
apartments. From the top is a good view of the Franciscan
Church in nearby Museum Square; it dates back to the 13th
century.”
Matthew’s reflections at the close of his tour: “My grandparents
never returned to Cluj or the old country. I was the first
family member to visit in 86 years. Everything my grandparents
had known here—their language, culture, and religious
tradition—was utterly foreign to me. Had they been able to
accompany me on my trip, they too would have found much that was
foreign and probably not to their liking, including their home
turned into a bar. But to me, it all feels appropriate. My
grandparents, like other immigrants to America, went in search
of a better life for themselves and especially for their
children. Despite bumps in the road, they found it. They left
behind a city where because of their religion and my
grandfather’s ‘alien’ (i.e., non-Transylvanian) status, they
were not allowed to live in tranquility. After they left, the
city saw pogroms, warfare, and genocide followed by more than 40
years of Stalinism. Now young people fill the streets and drink
and dance in the clubs, and Cluj—apart from the revelry—is at
peace. And that, at least, would please my grandparents
immensely.”
Notes
