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/Edited by Tamás Fehérvvári, photographed by Dominika Trapp/ The name Mónika Végső rings familiar to only a few. Among these few are Dominika Trapp and Mózes Márton Murányi, who have arranged an exhibition, entitled Mermaid on the Edge of the Sword, from the legacy of the artist – and her fictive love – at Labor. Végső then fled to an inner seashore mauled by desire – whose often sombre vista appears in her paintings, its heart-rending murmur finding voice in her poems and letters – when her family, who had earlier been well-off, became impoverished, thus with no further possibility to sink their toes into the sands of Rhodes, Corfu, or Tenerife, or only in their imagination. And it was only here she could have met with Dusan, who was elevated from a summer romance to the hero of an eternal love, whose imaginary life- oeuvre she dreamed together with her own – just as their joint sepulchre, too.
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Végső Mónika neve csak keveseknek cseng ismerősen. E kevesek közé tarto-zik Trapp Dominika és Murányi Mó-zes Márton, akik Sellő kardélen címmel rendeztek kiállítást a művésznő – és fik-tív szerelme – hagyatékából a Laborban. Végső akkor menekült egy vágyak tépáz-ta belső tengerpartra – melynek gyakran komor látképe a festményein jelenik meg, szívszaggató moraja a verseiben, levelei-ben kap hangot –, amikor a korábban jómódban élő családja elszegényedett, így többé nem volt lehetősége Rodosz, Korfu, Tenerife homokjába süppeszteni a lábát, csak a gondolataiban. És már csak itt találkozhatott Düsánnal is, az egynyári románcból örök szerelemmé magasztosított hőssel, kinek képzeletbe-li életművét a sajátjával együtt álmodta meg – ahogy közös síremléküket is. / The name Mónika Végső (in English Monica Final) rings familiar to only a few. Among these few are Dominika Trapp and Mózes Márton Murányi, who had arranged an exhibition, entitled Mermaid on the Edge of the Sword, from the legacy of the artist – and her fictive love – at Labor. Végső then fled to an inner sea-shore mauled by desire – whose often sombre vista appears in her paintings, its heart-rending murmur finding voice in her poems and letters – when her family, who had earlier been well-off, became impoverished, thus with no further pos-sibility to sink their toes into the sands of Rhodes, Corfu, or Tenerife, or only in their imagination. And it was only here she could have met with Düsan, who was elevated from a summer romance to the hero of an eternal love, whose imaginary life-oeuvre she dreamed together with her own – just as their joint sepulchre, too.