Scandal followed the publication of her early prose works, particularly after claims that they had been largely or entirely written by her father—or, alternatively, by her friend and putative lover Nicolae Crevedia.

[2] According to her own recollections, her first poem was an "invective" directed at sandals her father had bought for her—Magda was frustrated that other children had fancier footwear, while her family shunned luxuries.

Since they made no effort to disguise facts from life, and satirized living people using their real names, critics readily claimed that her father had ghostwritten them: during the late 1920s, as a contributor to Cuvântul, Dan Rădulescu had campaigned for reform in public education.

Responding to such claims in Societatea de Mâine, Ion Clopoțel argued that Clasa VII A was rather a call for "betterment", "a protest against the lackadaisical nature of some classes being taught, and against some purposefully disengaged attitudes.

"[2] The modernist doyen Eugen Lovinescu noted the work for its "irreverent rebelliousness" which "gave harmless satisfaction to an entire generation of youth oppressed by their schooling.

"[10] Rădulescu's first publishing contract was with Scrisul Românesc of Craiova, a company that, in her own definition, was not one of national relevance, making it "sheer luck [that] I enjoyed such success as other debuting authors never had.

[1][11] One exception was Perpessicius, who found the volume to be "mature", "diverse", and emancipated from Teodoreanu's influence—instead, he noted echoes from the earlier romantics, and in particular from Alexandru Odobescu's hunting stories.

"[15] Living with her father in a large townhouse outside Cluj's Botanical Garden,[2] she began writing her self-styled "fantasy reportage pieces",[1] collectively grouped as Sunt studentă!

[16] The student-narrator takes part in the strike of 1932, where she meets recruiters for both the Romanian Communist Party and the fascist Iron Guard (including a glimpse of the agitator Bănică Dobre).

[4] The autofictional Rădulescu informs the reader that she prefers the Guard, but attends meetings of the far-left, during which communist activists imply that the difference between them and the fascists is a minor one.

[4] Constantinescu was critical of the book's unmitigated observation, noting that her "precious lucidity" fell short of an artistic effort, and that her usage of similes in her descriptions drew attention away from her lively dialogues.

[8] A similar verdict was provided by Lovinescu: "the writer explored the situations facing her tiny personality in two more novels [...], which failed to make her interesting anew; the genre is too much for her to handle".

Inducted into the Romanian Writers' Society, she visited the Royal Foundations, meeting Arghezi, Panait Istrati, George Dorul Dumitrescu, and King Carol II.

[21] In August, she was at the Writers' Society hotel in Bușteni, vacationing alongside dramatist A. de Herz and his actress daughter Alexandra "Kuki", whom she befriended.

[22] Rădulescu was passionate about sports: in addition to hiking, she enjoyed competitive dance, biking, skiing, and horse-riding; by 1933, her only visit abroad was to what she called "non-Hitlerian Germany".

[2] In July 1933, Rădulescu informed her readers that she was seeing someone romantically, and that she believed in marriage as a fulfillment of her status as a woman—though she also jokingly commented that her ideal man would have been an Orthodox bishop.

Literary scholar Dan Smântânescu discovered her as a "talent of quick observation" and a "novelist in a sense that is completely unlike all of what we have learned to appreciate in modern epic complexities."

From initially liberal positions, which criticized the antisemitic excesses and vandalism of the Guardists, Dan slowly moved toward ideas which the authorities deemed "communistic", and then became a putative follower of the Guard.

In July 1934, the regional magazine Viața Ardealului noted: "The case of Marta D. Rădulescu grips public opinion just like a novel or a change of government would"; her name, journalist Sever Stoica argued therein, "is almost as well-known as that of a Hollywood star.

[14] The fragments were covered by Dreptatea daily, which noted that they evidenced her poor grasp of Romanian orthography, but also that Crevedia had embarrassed himself—since he had been the first person to promote "idolatry" of Marta; the controversy was summarized therein as țigănie ("quarrel among Gypsies").

"[32] Fascist activists Mihail Polihroniade, Alexandru Constant, and Ioan Victor Vojen were also featured, with pieces which attacked liberal democracy, supporting "organicism" and antisemitism.

[33] Another publication of the Guard, Cuvântul Argeșului, noted in May 1936: "Professor Rădulescu's family will be absolved in heaven of all its earthly sins, for it has surrendered itself to sacrifice, entirely and for its entirety.

[3][17][35] In that context, she also claimed that Jewish booksellers had refused to advertise Mărgele de măceș with its brief retelling of Romanian folklore, since it contained references to Uriași antagonists called Jidovi ("Jews"); she also reported that fragments of Sunt studentă!, detailing antisemitic chants as heard directly from the Guardists, had been unexplainably removed from the printed edition.

[4] Praised by nationalists as an attack on the "spiritual emptiness" of the Guard's "detractors",[36] or as a "lifelike expression of today's Romanian bourgeoisie",[37] Buruieni de dragoste was panned by reviewer Romulus Demetrescu.

[43] According to historian Dragoș Sdrobiș, the first stages of World War II should have been a time of political prominence for the family, with the Iron Guard having set up its totalitarian government, the National Legionary State.

[4] In October 1944, shortly after the anti-Nazi coup and the Communist Party's legalization, the latter's official organ, Scînteia, demanded that Rădulescu be "purged" out of the Writers' Society—along with scores of other Guardist or more generically nationalist affiliates.

[46] Her works were again being panned by authors of that period: in 1954, pedagogue Alexandru Sen argued that Clasa VII A plunged readers into a "strange world, peopled by maniacs," unwittingly showing "the decomposition of that bourgeois society which schools of that day were so duly serving.

[48] In 1997, a publication called Revista Mea was being put out by the Romanian Jewish community of Tel Aviv, its editors unaware (until a reader informed them) that this title had an antisemitic pedigree.