Thursday, October 12, 2017
Master and Margarita
As a Russophile, I'm embarrassed that I've not read Bulgakov's Master and Margarita until now. Although I recognize that countless Russians believe that this book is the greatest Russian novel of the twentieth century, I never seemed to get very far with this book until now. In fact, I only managed to finish the book by "reading" it on Hoopla, and unfortunately audio-books can be difficult to follow even with much simpler plot structures. Notwithstanding the book's imposing reputation, or perhaps because of that imposing reputation, my impression of the book wasn't very positive. I recognize that Bulgakov was one of the Soviet Union's most competent modernists. I recognize that the imaginative elements of the book, including its rich cast of bizarre characters, deserve my appreciation. I also recognize that Bulkagov deserves praise for producing such a creative work in the midst of Stalinist oppression. However, Bulgakov's masterwork was a little too chaotic for my taste. Someday I hope to re-read the book. Bulgakov's Heart of a Dog, assigned to me in my first Russian history class at Georgetown University, was probably one of the first Russian books I ever read. Like Master and Margarita, Heart of a Dog comes across as an absurdist fairy tale, a modernist version of Gogol's strange tales of walking noses and the like. But Heart of a Dog's shortness seems to make its strange conceits more believable. Master and Margarita's endless flights of fancy seem to lead nowhere and to distract the reader from any sustained sense of direction or purpose to the plot. I recognize that this is a relatively shallow reading of a novel that no doubt contains complexity and richness. I certainly can understand that the book is representative of a type of modernist prose that has been immensely influential in the last fifty or so years. It was clearly ahead of its time, and perhaps extremely influential. Yet when laid side by side with a masterwork of the nineteenth century, it seemed lacking to me. The author's inventiveness lacked purpose to my mind. I do hope to learn more about the work, reread it, and post on this book again. I also hope to hear from readers who are interested in explaining their enthusiasm for the book.