READ THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW FROM KIRKUS DISCOVERIES ON
ECHOES OF MY FOOTSTEPS BELOW
"A fascinating memoir that details the personal anxieties and triumphs of an iconoclastic 20th century
life.
Gabor’s youth won’t surprise World War II buffs—but his unique literary consciousness immediately
sings through the din. Born Jewish in idyllic middle-class circumstances in Hungary, the
author’s life is changed forever with the heinous advent of the Nazis. He and his mother are placed
at the end of a firing line but are saved at the last moment from the spray of bullets when the firing
squad is called away. Gabor doesn’t call it a miracle, and he doesn’t call it fate. The author finds only
one word in the lexicon that can reference his relationship with the universe—surreal. He returns to
this metaphor often. For Gabor, history, trauma and love are mere players in the drama of a life, juxtapositions
that are at times beautiful and often horrible. Staying away from queasy moralizing, the
author doesn’t fit his adventures in the Israeli defense force and his career as a clothier into a sensible showpiece displaying perseverance and faith.
Rather, he sees his life as an encounter with the brutal and the beautiful, the real and the illusory, the senseless and the sensuous. Both brazen
adventurer and historical pawn, Gabor reinvents the stoic postwar consciousness and confesses that he finds it impossible to wax nostalgic about
those traumatizing years. It’s difficult to find this brand of harrowing honesty in almost any popular book about those years, and the author is
haunted by anxiety to this day. Though Gabor finds stunning success after the war in Argentina as a children’s fashion designer, anti-Semitism
once again enters the scene. Only after the “Dirty War” does he find his way to Miami and claim one of his life’s greatest prizes, the lovely
Rebequita. This ethereal Latin beauty is half his age and initially involved with another man (his employee), but the author’s unabashed vitality
will not be deterred, and again he fails to make any real apologies. This refreshing resistance to political correctness or stock theology reminds
readers of why an individual’s life is relevant for memoir in the first place—the lasting mystery.
An autobiography as compelling for its narrative as it is for its masculine attitude and vigor." |