Book Review: The Master and Margarita (1940/1967) by Mikhail Bulgakov

The devil descends on Moscow with his entourage in tow unleashing disarray, exposing corruption and moral decay as also the many other ills of Soviet society of the day in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita, written originally between 1928 and 1940 and only published nearly three decades later, some versions seeing the very censorship the book calls out, among other aspects.

This is a book that had been on my TBR or at least ‘books I mean to read some day’ list for a long while, though I’d been putting it off mostly expecting it to be dense and daunting. But when I finally decided to dive in (encouraged in part by Madame Bibi’s review for Reading the Meow last year and Karen’s this year), I found it wasn’t really so, with many of the satirical elements much more thinly disguised than I expected though the notes did help me in many places with things which weren’t that surface level. The edition I read was the translation by Richard Prevar and Larissa Volkonsky (the Penguin ed).

At the Patriarch’s Ponds, as a conversation is underway between the chairman of a Moscow literary society, the fictional Mazzolit, Mikhail Alexandrovich Berlioz and young poet Ivan Nikolayevich Ponyrev, who goes by the name ‘Homeless’ about the latter’s work on Christ which the former wants rewritten, the devil arrives in the form of a ‘foreign consultant’ Professor Woland, questioning their atheistic beliefs and predicting a rather grisly end for Berlioz. And that comes true, not moments later, sending Ivan Nikolayevich a little over the edge and into a mental health facility run by psychiatrist, Dr Stravinsky.  Here Ivan meets an author who goes by the name ‘The Master’ who is the one person who can understand his experiences and who also shares his own story—his work, the repression he faced and his love.

Meanwhile, Woland and his entourage, initially Koroviev, his ‘interpreter’ and the massive black cat Behemoth who walks on his hinds and is slick in his handling of both guns and glasses of vodka, later also joined by Azazello and the witch Hella move into the city, Berlioz’s apartment in fact, and soon,  much havoc is unleashed in the city as people seem to disappear only to reappear thousands of miles away where they couldn’t have possibly travelled so quickly, (mis)deeds and moral degeneration—greed and corruption—are exposed, and many more find their way to Stravinsky’s facility.

Intermittently, in some chapters where a parallel thread of the story progresses, we travel back in time to Jerusalem in the time of Pontius Pilate where he is faced with and must take a difficult decision when Yeshua Ha Nozri (or Christ) is presented before him. We see his reluctance and anguish as also his ultimate decision and its aftermath.   

In the second part, we meet the Master’s beloved Margarita for whom Woland’s magic works in a different way altogether.

The Master and Margarita while nowhere as daunting as I’d expected is a complex, many layered story. At one level, it is very much a satire and through it a critique of the Soviet regime at the time, including the repression—the secret police and disappearances and brutal interrogations of those suspected of the slightest non conformity (nothing much happens on page) leaving them entirely broken at best. Then there is the policing of literature with only certain views allowed to be published and circulated and the slightest dissidents made the target of propaganda and vitriol, all but destroying them.

The housing situation remains prominent too, all through the book with Berlioz’s few rooms, now empty on account of his death coveted by many, including a relative hastening there all the way from Kiev, in hopes of getting his hands on it. We also get a glimpse of the communal apartments that are the fate of many, most in fact, while at the other end of the spectrum, the wealthier set continue to live luxurious lives in decadent quarters.

As Woland unleashes his ‘magic’, the facades that people living behind are quickly pulled down and the corruption—monetary or moral—not far from the surface is unveiled; whether it is money changing hands for access to housing or other reasons, people cheating on their wives or even plain greed which ends in embarrassment for the large audiences of Woland’s ‘séance’ at the Variety, all comes to light as some must face up to the consequences too. In the long run, though things once again fall back into the ordinary patterns, the changes impacting individual lives rather than the system.

Amongst all the madness that Woland’s arrival unleashes in the city, the psychiatric facility run by Stravinsky surprisingly almost serves a place of sanctuary or refuge where those persecuted (whether for or without fault) can breathe easy even though real life parallels were used perhaps also for political ends.

Another layer of the story is of the love between the Master and his beloved Margarita who while a married woman has found true love and happiness in him. She believes in him and his work and for him is willing to go to any lengths, even turn witch! Ultimately it is this strength of feeling, this genuineness that carries them through and shapes how things turn out. Likewise, this similar depth and genuineness of feeling impacts the outcome for other characters too, be it the poet Ivan Nikolayevich or back in history, Pontius Pilate.

A further thread that stands on its own (as also in contrast to the official Soviet atheism) is that of faith, strongly present both through the Jesus/Pontius Pilate thread and symbolism as also sentiment.

While commenting on the different characters will stretch this already long write up even more and I refrain from doing so, I can’t not mention the cat Behemoth who proved to be a great deal of fun, playing chess and riding trams, but also pulling off people’s heads (gruesome this scene may be, but spoiler or not, I will say, all is illusion, eventually)—he definitely makes this novel all the more entertaining.

All of this just about touches on a few of this novel’s riches which include also plenty of literary references and allusions from Faust to Pushkin to even the use of musicians for character names (I also felt some C.S. Lewis moments in some places). One of those books that will benefit from multiple reads to reveal more of its layers and inspirations, I was glad I finally did pick this up and do look forward to getting back to it sometime again.