In a very rare US appearance, the Hungarian novelist reads from the recent, long-awaited English translation of his 1985 debut novel, the source of the legendary seven-hour film by Krasznahorkai’s countryman and frequent collaborator Béla Tarr. His snaking sentences burrow into the minds of the citizens of some post-industrial, purgatorial, portent-laden Eastern Bloc village, all in thrall of a possibly messianic, possibly Mephistophelean returning leader.