The Master and Margartia

Oh, those Russians. I've mentioned on here before about how I find it hard to properly identify with their literature; something about being on the extreme opposite edges of Europe, my society inextricably linked with the other side of the Atlantic, theirs with the vastness of Asia.

But that's no reason not to keep trying. After all, there's a Strugatsky for every Solzhenitsyn, a Dostoevsky for every Tolstoy. And I'd actually read Mikhail Bulgakov before: his bizarre 1925 novella Heart of a Dog, about a mad scientist who creates a man-dog hybrid that goes off to become a Communist or something. The Master and Margarita is generally considered his masterpiece, and I was glad to find that it - just about - lived up to that reputation.

It's another of those novels where I simply cannot comprehend what the original publication would have looked like. Written between 1928 and 1940, The Master and Margarita is an absurdist satire of Moscow society and state-imposed atheism, as Satan and his companions descend on the Soviet Union to wreak havoc ahead of their annual party. How much of the violence, black magic, sex and ultimately Christian content that follows made it past the censors originally is hard to imagine; fortunately, as with pretty much everything else from the time, the book was eventually reissued uncut and unabridged for my reading pleasure.

And it is a fun read. Blending brilliant melodrama (an early scene where a character is decapitated by a tram is hilariously appalling), zesty dialogue and antics between Satan (or Woland as he names himself here) and his gang of misfit underlings as they go about their mischief, and cutting satire of the Russian intelligentsia so arrogant in their lack of faith, the plot races about from scene to scene at a breathless pace. Unfortunately, it's just a bit too inconsistent. Lengthy fictionalised accounts of the last days of Jesus, told from the point of view of Pontius Pilate, break up the narrative for no clear reason, characters are too numerous for sufficient development in most cases and there are moments where it tries just a bit too hard to be weird, to the detriment of the point.

But that's not to detract from what is a very witty and perceptive analysis of the perils of government interference in the beliefs of the populace, as well as an interesting interpretation of the opposing forces at play in Christian theory. Woland is a devil of the Russian Orthodox church, seeking to pervert God's creation: the Master, an infirm academic driven mad by his failure to make it as a writer, and Margarita, his lover who has grown depressed with her unfulfilling existence, see joining his ranks as their chance to transcend their problems on Earth, but to do so they mustn't lose sight of the penalties that come with it. There's also plenty of folkloric influence, as Margarita's initiation culminates in the Walpurgis Night-esque, hedonistic display of debauchery that is the peak of Woland's visit.

There are also some great scenes with a talking cat getting into a gunfight with the police, a landlord being told through the power of dreams to repent his miserly ways, and a rather gripping account of Pontius Pilate's secret service officers stalking through ancient Judea on their way to murder Judas. Like I said, a fun read.

All in all, it goes a long way to convincing me that attempting to complete the (decidedly finite) Russian canon might be a worthwhile aim.

4/5

Today I learned that the first ever Russian music video was inspired by this book. Groovy.