Book #2 in my resolution series, a classic novel per month for the year 2011, is Mikhail Bulgakov’s biting satire on Russian bureaucracy and the writing establishment, The Master and Margarita. On one level a proto-fantasy about a man and the woman who loves him enough to strike a deal with the devil, on another a study on societal attitudes to authority and corruption, this was recommended to me by several friends well-aware of my love for the more modern forms of fantastic fiction, and I was looking forward to seeing what this relatively recent Russian master would offer.
Cover: The Master and Margarita
The edition I read was the Vintage edition, available here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Master-Margarita-Vintage-Classics/dp/0099540940/
Covers like this make me somewhat suspicious, as they suggest an artist being cleverer than is perhaps necessary. Without reading the novel, who is to know what the symbolism is? Whereas for me, a cover should entice a reader into wondering what is represented, this cover is so seemingly abstract that it is almost an in-joke, sniggering at the obtuse who don’t get the reference. It also reminded me strongly of the old Gollancz series of classic SF novels with plain yellow covers.
Nonetheless, I took the plunge. The novel is divided into two sections, the first dealing with the devil’s appearance in Moscow and introducing us to the main players in the farce. The second part then introduces us to the eponymous heroine, unseen to this point, though referenced by her lover the Master from his cell in an asylum.
The first section is beautifully written. The exchange between Berlioz, his young poet companion, and the devil, is pregnant with meaning and unmeant irony, and readers conversant with the conventions of fantasy will have winced along with me as Satan predicts various catastrophes and is poo-poohed by the admirably materialistic Berlioz — casting Satan in the unaccustomed role of Cassandra. The various magical and fantastic happenings that then transpire are strongly reminiscent of some of the oldest works of fantasy, and I was reminded constantly of Lord Dunsany’s The King Of Elfland’s Daughter in the way characters act and react to the magic that is happening around them.
There’s something distinctly non-Western in the denoument of the second half. Where we might expect a morality fable to go, instead we have deals with the Devil coming off, and Satan actually coming across as something of a soppy romantic. The theological aspects of the relationship between Satan and Matthew (his seeming heavenly go-between) are rather dubious, though perhaps a more enlightened view of infernal punishment and those who do and do not deserve it than has been evinced by the Church in the real world.
I actually found that, despite their featuring in the title of the novel, it wasn’t the Master and Margarita’s story that I was most interested in, but that of Satan and the in-story novel about Pontius Pilate. While it was satisfying to see a somewhat happy ending for our two ostensible protagonists, the true centre of the book was the literary creation of the Master and its treatment and eventual restoration. Which is perhaps as Bulgakov intended in the novel’s theme of artistic integrity and how the accepted powers of the literary firmament can short-sightedly slight true artistic endeavour. What other reason can there have been for Satan to visit Moscow at that particular time?
A truly enjoyable read, in any event. Onwards! The next novel I shall tackle in this series will be Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime And Punishment.
I dont quite agree with you about some of this, but its nice to see interest in that beautiful book. When I reviewd it, I interpreted the whole thing as a study of human nature AND a morality fable-remember, the couple didnt go to heaven. I dont see it as the happiest anding they might have had. They ended up in purgatory, and Pilate-in a way the most moral character, because at least he felt guilty-he achived redemption, and met Christ. Margarita may have loved her man, but she was far too worldly for heaven, and so was he. In a way, guilt was the ultimat redeemer in this book, and how guilty were they, really?
I agree with you about Satan and St Mattew though. Bit of an odd scene all round.
Comment by uckstudents — May 23, 2011 @ 1:38 pm |