I recently came across this book on a list of recommendations from the NYT or Goodreads and am so glad I read it.

There were many moments in the book that reminded me either of my Czech grandmother or stories she told about her relatives of my Czech grandfather's relatives. The constant headscarf greets you and warns you away, representing a guard up and vulnerability. The immaculate home, filled with treasured wooden spoons, special furniture to be saved and handed down. The lush garden. The delicious strews and pastries brought at times your belly craves their comforting warmth the most. Immense willpower and work ethic that you never quite measure up to, even as the well-loved granddaughter who is supposed to be coddled and focus on studying. Clearing the darned snow when she's too old to be out there working like that (and certainly won't let you do it)!!!!

While there are certainly differences between Czech and Hungarian people, the book was an engrossing character study and built tension in a masterful way. The narrator, who might be characterized as unreliable (the best kind!!), proclaims guiltily that she has killed Emerance in the first chapter. In what violent, bone-chilling way can that be?! From there, the author skillfully leads the reader through a maze of battles with illness, shifting allegiances on the street, a rise to stardom, and the humiliation of a woman who guarded herself until she could manage no more, much like her treasured, inherited furniture falling to dust when their protection is removed.

From the richly detailed descriptions of a porcelain dog with a chipped ear to the nuances of prejudice or inability to understand the intent and needs of others, the author finds a way to stick with you, to get under your skin, much like Emerance herself. Throughout the book, I found my own perception shifting as Emerance's true motivations revealed themselves with a subtlety that could easily be missed, which the "lady writer" often does. You're in Magda's head, seeing what she sees. Or doesn't see. Committing selfish acts even when you know good and well you ought not to be! The author cranks and cranks up the tension until it's a finely taught wire, ready to snap the next time the narrator frenetically does something or other.

Is the main character's name a coincidence, or is this a semi-autobiographical tale woven from her own experiences? I must find out.

I learned from another review that a movie version starring Helen Mirren and Martina Gedeck was released in 2012. The movie doesn't seem to be available at the moment, but hope to see it especially for Martina Gedeck, who I loved in "Mostly Martha." And I am ITCHING to read more of the author's books, so fingers crossed that more of her works are translated as fantastically as "The Door."

I've read all kinds of reimaginings of myth and folktale, from Angela Carter to Margaret Atwood to Helen Oyeyemi, but this is something new - a brutally realistic novel that withstands the intrusion of myth to become an impossible, perfect marriage of the two. Emerence, the main character's maid and object of obsession, is revealed again and again as her secrets are stripped away from her, and each time the revelation turns her into something even more primal and intact. Uncomfortable but essential.