When I think about characters depicted in the history of religion, the character of the devil and the mystery surrounding him (or her) is by far most fascinating. For one, there is no agreement on where he comes from. Was he a creation of God that had to exist to oppose what is good and just and to create a universal balance that must be maintained in order for life to be what it is? Or was he a little jinni that refused to bow down to a human, and was cursed to eternity by the Almighty?

In the way he behaves, does the devil target individuals and societies and rummages through them creating havoc and chaos? Or is he, like God, closer to us than our own veins?

Can he be spoken to like God is prayed to? If so, does he answer our pleads the way God (some claim) answers our prayers?

And what powers does this devil have? Can he start a fire or cause an accident by flicking a switch when no one is looking? Or does he whisper in our ears convincing us that all that is good, is really bad?

The Master and Margarita begins with a conversation between an editor of a literary magazine and a poet. They briefly dicuss the existence of God before they are gently yet awkwardly interrupted by a stranger, who in turn gets slightly agitated that literary pair do not believe in God, or the devil for that matter. From then on, readers are introduced to some of the most charismatic characters in literature. The stranger and his retinue create some of the most memorable chaotic moments, and wreak havoc across Moscow in fascinating and mesmerising ways.

While the stranger and his friends are visiting Moscow, the author takes us back to the moments before the execution of Jesus. He introduces us to Pontius Pilate, the Roman procurator who approved, against his own will, the execution of Jesus. In between the two storylines, he subtly weaves in a third about a lady called Margarita and her lover, the master.

The seriousness of the three stories is told with such a light-hearted, and at times hilarious, prose that I constantly had to remind myself that there is a deeper meaning behind the highly entertaining plot. In one way, the book can be treated as a page-turner. I am sure you will love Behemoth when you meet him, and the love story will make you feel all fuzzy on the inside. In other ways, the book serves as a reminder of how one had to write in an oppressed society. If you were an opinionated writer who was reluctant to lose their life, and Stalin was the leader of your country, you too would find ways to offend without appearing as if you were offending. It just so happens that Mikhail Bulgakov was an amazing writer who told an excitingly bitter story without appearing too bitter, and produced one hell of a book.

The one thing I love about the Russian books that I have read including this one, is their inherent tendency to sympathise with a character who is not necessarily good. In portraying evil, they always show a side of a character or introduce an event that makes you think that maybe this one time, evil was the right way of addressing it. The grey lines between good and evil are quite bold in Russian literature, and this book is the best example of that.

Of course, like most great books, there are tens (if not hundreds) of themes and symbols throughout the book. Having fun picking them out! ( )

Originally intended as a political satire, Bulgakov may or may not have known what an enduring fable he wrote. ( )

Possibly one of the oddest books I have ever read, the Master and the Margarita took me quite a while to get through! I was lent it by a friend who insisted it was his favourite book, and I must admit that it took me a while to get into the somewhat bizarre story.

Where should I start...what an imagination! Set in 1930s Soviet Moscow, the Devil appears in the city, masquerading as a magician in one of the city's theatres causing havoc amongst the Russian literary circle and ultimately the city itself. Followed by an entourage of misfits, including a huge talking cat, the Devil's plans appear to wreak utter chaos among the populus. His story soon becomes entwined with that of the titular Master, a reclusive author of a novel about Pontius Pilate (which in itself becomes a secondary storyline set in the last days of Christ's life), and his lover, the Margarita.

Complete with a stunning cast of minor characters to rival even Dicken's work, The Master and Margarita is an example of political satire at its best, with humour and wit, yet bursting with the fantastical and with an air of the ridiculous. I am by no means an expert in Russian literature, and I imagine reading a good translation would be essential for enjoyment of this novel, which I felt was achieved with the Penguin edition. The characters are definitely the main allure of this strange story, with an amusing twist on the typical devious demons, loveable heros and plucky heroines. I will not pretend to have understood this entire novel, but I thoroughly enjoyed it, and think I would benefit from a reread later once the shock and bewilderment has worn off! Any further description may put you off reading it, so I shall leave it at this...

Worth a read if you fancy something different!

I thought I was going to read a historical Russian novel, instead I entered a riotous fantasy world featuring Satan, witches on broomsticks, and -- the star of the show -- Behemoth, the larger than life walking and trash-talking black cat. This book is definitely one that is difficult to categorize and analyze. It is a multi-layered interpretation of life in Moscow in the 1930's under Stalin's repression.

The real puzzlement for me was the juxtaposition of the Pontius Pilate story and this historical fantasy. I do understand that Bulgakov was protesting the removal of religion from Russian society, but weaving the story of Christ's trial into this rollicking satire was totally bizarre.

In my mystified state, I am giving the book an above-average rating with the proviso that I will read it again someday after undertaking the due diligence it deserves. Perhaps a thorough reading of Faust and some Russian history is in order. The Master and Margarita was certainly intriguing and inventive; unfortunately I wasn't able to penetrate the deeper meaning of it on my cursory first reading. ( )

entertaining, frequently hilarious, and the Judas plot line, in total contrast to the Devil's plot line, is very lovely diction. ( )

There's nothing can say about this book that others haven't said before me. It's daring, it's witty, it's cynical, and never boring. It's a satire, it's a love story, it's an absurdist play, it's a Bildungsroman, it's a postmodern take on Faust, it's a protest against censorship. Or, as the book's Wiki page informs you, "part of its literary brilliance lies in the different levels on which it can be read, as hilarious slapstick, deep philosophical allegory, and biting socio-political satire critical of not just the Soviet system but also the superficiality and vanity of modern life in general" And because of this characteristic, "The Master and Margarita" is one of those books that you can't just digest in one read. At first I had mixed feelings about it - it was always intriguing, exciting, yes, but not lovable enough, I thought. Its light and talkative tone didn't seem, to me, to capture the agony and pain of people's lives in Stalinist Moscow. Moreover, with the possible exception of Behemoth, the vodka-drinking, chess-playing, pistol-toting cat, the book had no characters that one truly cares for. Or that's what I felt as I was reading it. You can see why, then, it surprises me that weeks after finishing the novel I find its colourful cast of characters - Woland, Azazello, Behemoth, the Master, Margarita, Ivan Ponyrov, and Pontius Pilate - frequently popping into my head and putting a smile on my face. It probably won't go down as one of my favourite books, but it is certainly memorable, unique, and unlike anything I've ever read. ( )

To me the novel separates into three threads. One is the romp - that Satan and his cohorts descending into Moscow and wreaking havoc, particularly on the pretentious. I suspect there is quite a lot I am not getting in this thread, more specific political commentary. Of course, he is making a commentary on those writers who manage to get published in the Soviet Union of the time (between WWI and II) - he seems to be particularly down on the poets. Then there are descriptions of the writer's perks, and the black market stores for those with foreign currency, which is supposedly forbidden. All the people disappearing is surely meant to be a reflection on those disappearing from their homes in the Soviet state.

The second is the story of Ha-Nostri (Christ) and Pontius Pilate. We hear the first installment of this story from Woland (Satan) who is telling it to two writers who were sitting on a bench discussing a poem one had written about the non-existance of God. In this scene Pilate had a chance to free Ha-Nostri by refusing to affirm his sentence, but he could only do this by risking himself. Cowardice is the worst vice, Ha-Nostri is later reported to have said, although the statement is little elaborated on. It is for this cowardice that Pontious Pilate must wait so long after death before being released.

The third thread is the story of the Master and Margarita. The Master is a writer who wrote a novel which is the story of Pontius Pilate. Margarita is his lover, who, though married to another, becomes totally committed to the master and his work. Within the latter two threads is a theme of the roles of what we call good and evil, but which may also be light and shadow, necessary to each other. Why is it, for instance, that the master deserves peace but not light? Is it his brokenness in reaction to criticism of his novel? His abandonment of Margarite when he goes to the hospital? Is such a loss of confidence a kind of cowardice as well?

Margarite is a truly couragious character, taking risks for the master, and for his work. She doesn't hold back. Despite her initial misgivings she agrees to go to Satan just on the chance of hearing about her lover. She serves as the Queen of the grand ball of Satan. My feeling is that there is a lot in the chapter about the grand ball that I am not fully grasping. Why Margarite was chosen, how she is told that she is doing so well, although throughout Satan's cohorts seem to be doing a lot of prompting as well, the heavy necklace she has to wear that just gets heavier, her compassion for Frieda - one of the dead who is punished by being constantly presented with the hankerchief that she used to kill her baby, and although it is Satan's ball, he does not necessarily seem to enjoy it. When Margarite is offered her reward for serving as queen of the ball, she seems to give up what she came for in order to do what she feels is right. Yet she claims not to be a virtuous person. She simply would have no peace in her life if she didn't do what she does. Having offered hope, she can not deny it.

Bulgarov manages to suggest, and, more than that, to make you feel, that the relationship between heaven and hell, good and evil, is more complex and mysterious than usually presented. Without quite understanding the whole picture of what is going on in the Grand Ball, and in all the various relationships between the characters in woland's entourage and others, including Woland's support for the Master and Margarita, I still feel a richness in it, which I will probably lead me to reread it several more times.

Highly recommended. ( )

I have heard and read, that the Master and Margarita concerns the nature of good and evil, God and Satan, Heaven and Hell, peace and light. So, naturally I turned to it for an answer to that perennial question which for so long has troubled us felines, and also, certain small children, namely:

Do cats go to heaven?

The presence of an exquisite black cat on the cover led me to believe that I might receive some answers to this question. But even now at the end of the book I must admit I am a little confused.

For the cat described in the book doesn't seem to be the soft, angelic looking creature on the front of the book who sits thoughtfully on a windowsill looking out over Calvary. No, the cat in the book goes by the name of Behemoth, and is one of the devil's companions. He plays chess, and he tries to cheat, but is not good at that either. And, although, he did pay when trying to ride the subway, he also shoots at people and seems to be responsible for a number of fires. It seems, perhaps, that the question answered by the book is not whether cats go to heaven, but whether they go to hell. I shudder at the thought. Alas, perhaps there is some truth to the stories of black cats who serve as the familiars of witches.

Two things give me hope. One is Pilate's dog, his faithful dog, who wants only to comfort him, and who shares his fate as he is condemned to sit watching the path to the moon open up every night but unable to follow it. Pilate wants to find Ha-Nostri, the Christ he didn't defend, and continue the conversation they were having before Pilate confirmed the verdict that sent Ha-Nostri to his death. Even Satan says, "If it is true that cowardice is the most grave vice, then the dog, at least, is not guilty of it." But he also say, "But what can be done, the one who loves must share the fate of the one he loves."

Yes, the dog loves. Doesn't that mean that he can reach the depths and the heights, and, yes, when Pilate is released, the dog goes too, bounding up that moonbeam. True, cats are not dogs. Our love is not like theirs. We are more aloof, more separate, more complex. Nonetheless, aren't we of the same sort, Kingdom Animalia, Phylum Chordata (Does a cat not have a backbone?), class Mammalia (Is my blood not warm?), Order Carnivera (Do I not kill?).

The second thing, well, if Behemoth is Satan's companion, and thus a denizen of hell, doesn't it follow, if we can go to hell, surely, then, we can also go to heaven?

But, think, then, of how puzzled I became, when I came upon this paragraph which left me wondering, not just who is this cat, Behemoth, but what:

"Night had also torn off Behemoth's fluffy tail, stripped him of his fur and scattered clumps of it over the swamps. The one who had been the cat who amused the Prince of Darkness turned out to be a lean youth, a demon-page, the best jester the world has ever known. Now he, too, had fallen silent and was flying noiselessly, his young face raised to the light flowing from the moon."

What a vision, noble, yet puzzling. Was this youth really a cat like me (I say like me, but really, much more clumsy and bumptious)? Or was he always something other, that I can not share? Oh, dear reader, my small mind, on its own, simply can't wrap itself around this conundrum. I, a cat, admit it. I need your help.

Do please read this book. Tell me what you think. Not just for me. Think of the children. I have to tell them something. ( )

This book left me feeling satisfied and I thank Ellendea Proffer for the Commentary and Afterword which were of great help in understanding some of the confusing aspects of this work. "The Master and Margarita" is funny (Behemoth had me chuckling from his first appearance on) and filled with preposterous situations, yet the last two chapters just didn't seem to tie things up in a way that I hoped they would. I liked the way the Pontius Pilate story was interwoven throughout (though a bit jarring as a second chapter) and also how it comes up in different ways.

interesting in the way it is presented ( )

Fascinating, complicated and funny. ( )

Loved, loved, loved this book! I don't feel like any review of mine can properly do it justice (though there are quite a few of other reviewers who have done an excellent job). However, I'll do my best.

The important thing to keep in mind while reading Master is that it was written in Stalinist Russia during the height of censorship and theological repression. A lot of the book will only make sense if the reader comes to it understanding the popular point of view in Russia at the time.

Having said that, anyone can still enjoy Master. The themes of political repression, the satirization of certain characters, the exploration of the themes of what exactly evil is and what it's purpose is in the grand scheme of things- these things are things any reader can pick up on and enjoy.

One of things I least expected in this book was its sense of tongue-in-cheek humor. The characters- especially the Satanic trio of Azazello, Behemoth, and Korovyev- had me cracking up at every turn. The burning of the restaurant, Behemoth's shoot out with the police, the black magic show- these all made the book a delicious romp. I found myself laughing out loud several times (much to the consternation of those nearby me).

The little tricks and nods to his (Bulgakov's) sources kept catching me by surprise. Bulgakov was a huge fan of the opera, which made itself immediately apparent from the very start, when the editor Berlioz is introduced. He even goes on later in the book to have Ivan, another main character, insist on separating Berlioz the composer from Berlioz the editor. The little hints at Goethe's Faust also entertained me. The poodle-headed walking stick for example, or Woland's limp from an encounter with a feisty witch on Walpurgisnacht.

The story within a story was intriguing as well. The story of Pilate, who was a surprisingly easy character to sympathize with, was entertaining, especially with its inclusion of all the political machinations in Jerusalem at the time. The portrayal of Ha-Notsri was very... unexpected and unexpectedly pleasant, too.

I would give this novel six stars if I could, but instead must content myself with five. Pick it up, go ahead- you won't be disappointed. ( )

The Devil comes to Stalinist Moscow, with his band of associates, consisting of a mischievous assistant and a feisty black tom cat. It is not long before people are dying, disappearing and ending up in institutions for the mentally ill. Margarita is a Moscow citizen who is searching for her lover 'the Master', who has disappeared in Moscow after being depressed. But in order to find the only person who matters in her life, she will have to deal with dark forces who are much stronger than she is. Interwoven into the story is the tale of Pontius Pilate, who is the subject of a novel which the Master has written. However, the rejection of his novel by publishers led to his misery and despondency with his life.

I enjoyed this novel a lot, and I can understand why it is hailed as a masterpiece. The Devil (who here is called Woland), and his companions Koroviev, Behemoth, Hella and Azazello are extremely colourful characters and Koroviev and Behemoth (the tom cat) provide much in the way of laughs during the story. Margarita is also a beautifully drawn character, trapped in a unhappy marriage, while pining for her one true love.

I liked the way that events would take a sudden and totally unexpected turn, sending the reader down an entirely different road than the one which they started out on. There is almost a carnival atmosphere surrounding the actions of the perpetrators, and it's hard not to to be entertained by them (some of the scenes involving Behemoth made me laugh out loud).

I honestly had no idea how the story would end, and when it came, the ending was a surprise, yet very fitting for the story which preceded it.

This book could be read on many levels; it can be read simply as a carnivalistic romp through a former time, or on a deeper level, where I compare the Master's rejected novel to be a sort of parallel with much of the literature which was written and banned at the time (Bulgakov himself had his work frowned on by the authorities). Either way, there is much to enjoy here, and this is a book that I can well imagine re-reading at some point in the future. ( )

The translation of Master and Margarita by Mirra Ginsburg is well worth reading even though it is based on the censored version of the Russian text and lacks the critical notes available in recent translations. The principal story lines are intact and the literary quality of the translation makes Bulgakov's meaning very accessible. Reading Ginsburg was reading Master and Margarita afresh.

One episode where this is apparent is when the bartender of the Variety Theater, Andrey Fokich Sokov, seeks admittance to apartment No. 50 in order to redress his loss from counterfeit currency. Ginsburg translates as follows:

The door opened instantly, but the bartender started, backed away, and hesitated before entering. And no wonder. The door was opened by a young woman wearing nothing but a frivolous little lace apron and a white housemaid's cap on her head.

What Ginsburg makes explicit, and hesitated before entering, Pevear and Volokhonsky, translate as and did not enter at once, describing the action, but not the actor's feeling. Instead of a white housemaid's cap, P&V have a white fichu. P&V may be more faithful to the original, but at times may obscure the meaning.

Another episode follows shortly after, in the apartment of Professor Kuzmin, where Sokov has gone for medical advice for his liver condition. After Sokov leaves, Kuzmin is exposed to some of the carnival antics of the satanic suite come to Moscow--in particular a sparrow's dance. Ginsburg:

The wretched bird limped on its left foot, obviously clowning and dragging it, moving in syncopation--in short, it was dancing a fox trot trot to the music of the phonograph like a drunk in a bar . . .

Pevear and Volokhonsky translate as The obnoxious little sparrow dipped on its left leg, losing the connotation of a limp. The sparrow is a familiar of Woland, appearing among the columns of the balcony with Pontius Pilate as Pilate thinks to free Ha-Nozri. Woland is across the courtyard of the apartment complex at the time of the sparrow's dance, later has his knee massaged with salve by the servant/vampiress Hella, and later still at the midnight ball limps as he approaches his assistant who is holding the severed head of Berlioz. The limp seems important to his persona.

Burgin, in her translation, keeps the limp and more: The filthy bird was lame in its left foot. The filthy bird is even more like to Woland as Margarita first sees him, Woland lay sprawled on the bed, dressed only in a long nightshirt, which was dirty and patched on the left shoulder. Wretched, obnoxious, or filthy? Filthy fits the bill best, I only hope that it isn't revisionist.

I noticed two major censored portions in the version Ginsburg translated (there may well be others). The first is the rationale put forth by the high priest, Kaifa, on why Ha-Nozri was more dangerous than Bar-Rabban, i.e., that his was a political crime which endangered the priesthood itself. The second is the episode of Koroviev and Behemoth at the currency store which exposed the luxuries that were available under the Soviet system to those who were more equal than others. These are historical truths which some would rather have us forget, but the greater truth in Master and Margarita goes beyond these histories, directly to the myths that reveal who we are. ( )

The Master and Margarita, which is widely considered Bulgakov’s masterpiece, is a fantasy through and through–also a love story, a meditation on religion and meaning, a slapstick comedy, and a satire on politics and literature. It features some marvelous set pieces, including an unbelievable magic show and a ball that never seems to end.

What struck me most about this novel as a first-time reader was how much fun it is. It’s a crazy, loopy, exhuberant story that goes in entirely unexpected directions. If you go in expecting an exposé of the Soviet system of governance, you’ll be disappointed. The politics aren’t so straightforward as that—in fact, I know that I missed a lot of what Bulgakov was doing because my attention was so focused on the plot and characters. Much of the comedy is broad and farcical, and the satirical bits are just as likely to focus on types of people that exist in all times and places as on Soviet political types. In short, this is a book that can be read and enjoyed on many levels, and I imagine it’s also one that will reward multiple readings.

I found Hugh Aplin’s translation to be pleasantly readable. This OneWorld edition includes endnotes that explain the literary allusions and a helpful appendix on Bulgakov and his works. I could have done with more detailed endnotes, but there were enough here to keep from ever feeling entirely at sea.

See my complete review at my blog. ( )

It took me a while to decide to buy this book: when I skimmed through it in the bookshop, I read about a cat offering Margarita a glass of pure alcohol, and I really wondered if I could appreciate this kind of literature.

But—to my surprise—I did, and I loved this book immensely. I found the chapters about Pilate in Jerusalem quite fascinating. They brought Yoshua's passion alive in a manner I had never expected, the more so because I'm usually not interested in this kind of Christian literature.

The fantasy of the book in the other chapters is of course fascinating. (However, without being able to explain why, I liked the first part of the book better than the second.) The tone used by Bulgakov reminded me of Calvino, especially in his If on a Winter's Night a Traveler(*). (But I should reverse what I say in rather stating that Calvino probably borrowed some inspiration from Bulgakov.) Among the many sulfurous characters of the book, I particularly liked Behemoth, the big black cat. Looking at the cover pictures available on LT, I can see I'm not the only one to have been impressed by the cat, since it is featured on many covers.

The end of the book leaves me with a strange taste in the mouth, as if I had drunk too much bad vodka. It seems that, for Bulgakov, death is finally preferable to life. The fact is that I avow that I don't know finally what Bulgakov wanted to demonstrate in his book, except his own torments and heartrending feelings. I pity him very much.

(*) I hadn't read Rubashov's review before writing mine. He seems to agree with me for Calvino. But this is perhaps a well-known fact. ( )

It's difficult to qualify this book within a book which stretches the realms of the imagination whilst pulling the characters back to a glum reality. The grotesque carnival of pretentious characters and Satan's ball are particularly delicious; the Machiavellian plot in Judea and Pilate's devious intrigues are gripping. However I found the coming of the two difficult and the ending contrived as all loose ends are unraveled - dismissing some of the magic previously created but not necessarily explaining everything either. A wonderfully mind expanding experience overall. ( )

My favorite book EVER!!!!!: My mom read this and insisted that Bulgakov must have been on drugs to create this. My mother-in-law told me it gave her nightmares for weeks. Personally, I'm not on drugs and I slept like a baby after reading The Master and Margarita, but these reactions just go to show you that this book incites strong feelings- as it was meant to. If you have any knowledge of Russian history, you must read this book. If you have a strong imagination, you must read this book.
This particular translation is the BEST one so far and does a very good job of drawing the reader in.

This is a romp. While reading it I saw somewhere that Salman Rushdie said it was a major influence for him in the writing of his SATANIC VERSES. I have an inkling, unconfirmed at this point, that Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Italo Calvino were also influenced by it. Several things about it surprise me. No doubt it's loaded with political subtext about Stalin's Russia; it was written during the years of the worst predations of Stalin's regime. I speak here of "dekulakization," in which some 20 to 50 million people died, many succumbing to cannibalism, and the Moscow show trials so carefully dissected by Robert Conquest in his THE GREAT TERROR. But I was oblivious to any such subtext while reading THE MASTER AND MARGARITA. What struck me was the lively picture it gives one of Moscow in the 1930s. The tenor of the city, its street life, not to mention the look of the place and the landscape surrounding it. The parks and public spaces. I had seen Moscow before in Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, but that was late 19th century Moscow, a provincial city parroting Parisian culture and language. I also remember--how can I forget?--the sinister Moscow of Solzhenitsyn's GULAG ARCHIPELAGO. But here we have a Moscow bursting with life, with people enjoying their lives. Yet, it's also a Moscow that aspires to world dominance. It was that contradiction that was always foremost in my mind as I read. One wonders how he did it? Turning out this fabulist masterpiece in the midst of such craziness, such instability. But all that aside the book is finally unlike anything I have ever read before. Description is really the book's strength: action and imagery. There's no plot to speak of. (You can look elsewhere in these reviews for a description of the storyline.) It's character driven. And it never flags. An absolutely astonishing book....

Three stories in one: (a) The Devil arrives in town and preys on the weak; (b) The Master, author of a book about Jesus, is reunited with the love of his life; (c) The Master's book, a revisionist Biblical story. All in all this book is a wild ride, and a complicated novel. I'm still not entirely sure what it was about! Russian politics, religion, morality, and somewhere in the thick of it, a love that transcends all. Definitely made for interesting book club conversation! ( )

I loved the unforgettable characters, witty prose and hilarious set pieces but overall didn't really care for the plot (socio-religious commentary aside, it's just basically a series of comic encounters): I kept wishing the story would hurry up and get to the point. I found the Pontius Pilate sub-story extremely tedious. ( )

“Who told you there was no such thing as real, true, eternal love? Cut out his lying tongue!”

On a bench in Patriarchs’ Pond Park, two literary types discussing the Christian religion are accosted by a mocking figure. The boorish editor, Berlioz (an incidental figure, and the uncoincidental namesake of the composer of La damnation de Faust) has his death prophesized by the stranger, a prophecy which wastes no time in being realized due to the demonically inevitable conjunction of sunflower oil, a turnstile, and an all-too-punctual streetcar. Thus, another latter-day John the Baptist is beheaded.

With this prologue, The Master and Margarita begins a dual narrative which commences in the midst of Holy Week and reaches its culmination on Easter Sunday. The primary narrative (1920s Moscow) is satiric and brutally funny, while the story within the story, the Master’s retelling of Christ’s Trial and Passion is serious and delicately written. As the primary story unfolds, the identity of the stranger and his retinue (which includes a harlequin figure and a huge black tomcat with a gourmand’s appetite) becomes increasingly apparent, an identity which would be unmistakable even without the various hat-tips to the Faust legend. For the “magician” Woland, time and reality are pliable, lending a surreal quality to the story that is both hilarious and disconcerting (see the - literally - empty suit diligently catching up on its paperwork). The tendency of the narrative is more along the lines of a trickster cycle than a morality play, although the Pontius Pilate storyline is a study in existential dilemma worthy of Dostoyevsky or Kafka.

The prohibitions and paranoia of Soviet Russia (“Never Speak to Strangers” is one chapter title) are slyly satirized to the degree that Bulgakov’s novel was suppressed for decades before its first publication in 1966/67. The paranoia, the empty suits, the xenophobia, and the use of the asylum as a means of control are some of Bulgakov’s touchstones, yet even in Stalinist Russia, he managed to tell a tale of love and final redemption, courtesy of that scapegoat of humanity who is “Part of that Power which eternally wills evil and eternally works good.”

“Never speak to strangers,” warns the first chapter of this wonderful book, but that is exactly what Mikhail Alexandrovich Berlioz, chairman of the Union of writers in Moscow, so carelessly does. The stranger happens to be Satan himself and when Berlioz boldly claims that Christ does not exist, the Devil with a cruel act, ironically not only proofs his existence but that of the anti-Christ as well. This then is the start of a wild chase through the Stalinist Moscow of the nineteen thirties and the beginning of one of the strangest stories which managed to get printed under the Soviet Totalitarian regime.

Written between 1930 and 1940, when Stalinist terror was at it worst, the content of the novel “The Master and Margarita” literally was life threatening to its author Michael Bulgakov. It is very likely that Bulgakov would not have survived their reprisals if the Soviet authorities would have discovered his manuscript. The author was very well aware of this and did indeed destroy a first version of his masterpiece out of precaution.

It is difficult to imagine what live must have been for an intelligent sensitive artist under Stalinist totalitarian regime. It would be something like Salman Rushdie writing the Satanic verses while living in Kabul!

If fighting back in the open was suicidal, how could you mentally survive such a situation? In the “Master in Margarita”, the narrative of Jesus condemnation offers already one option: to offer one‘s cheek and mumble with the crucified: “forgive them for they do not know what they are doing”.

Bulgakov however finds in M& M a third and safe way to ventilate his anger and frustration and he does so in a very entertaining way: he gets back at his tormentors by retaliating through his artistic creations. He sides with the Devil and his retinue and unleashes his destructive anger on his enemies.

Imagine for example that the blasphemous first chapter of M&M was indeed triggered by the iconoclastic poetry of the militant atheist Demyan Bedny.
Through his writing, the highly offended Bulgakov could get back at him through the viciously beheading scene of Berlioz. “You don’t believe in God?” “Whack there goes your stupid head!”

Again, a bit further in the book when Ivan Bezdomniy,Berlioz companion of the first chapter tries to explain what happened to the unbelieving Director of the psychiatric ward Bulgakov strikes again : “Tell your version of the truth and finish locked up as the schizophrenic moron you really are”.

One cannot but smile in sympathy with Bulgakov and applaud the humour he extracts from the terrifying environment of his daily life. Writing these scenes in the precarious safety of his flat must have been a therapeutic reaction to the author’s accumulated anger.

As we further pursue the Devil and his gang, we are introduced full speed to numerous situations, different locations and dozens of people.
However, the moment we are introduced to them, most of the characters fall victim to the devil’s terrifying magic. People mysteriously disappear, they accidentally die, they are exiled to other cities, and they are imprisoned or locked up in an asylum. Everybody is guilty of something and is found out: Black market, foreign currencies exchange, briberies, etc.
The results of Satan’s acts mirror the consequences of indiscretions and carelessness in this Stalin era Moscow, where normality is imposed terror.

Together with the Muscovites, we are asking ourselves: "What is happening?"

It seems that the Devil has arrived in Moscow and settled in an apartment on Sadavoya Street in the centre of the city. Again Bulgakov and his Devil punish the inhabitants of the apartment in the same way as what the Soviets did to the previous proprietors. Where are the original inhabitants of Saravoya 50 ? Obliterated? Forgotten? We don’t even remember their names after they are taken away by the secret police.

The Devil and his gang of cronies are settling scores with the custodians of the official literature in order to take over the presentation at the Variety Theatre.
The grand show of magic and grotesque carnival offered to the Moscovian public causes such havoc and mayhem that it unsettles Artistic Moscow to its deepest roots.

Once more Bulgakov exposes his revenge. He rips apart the entire Variety theatre top, these sycophantic puppets of the regime and makes fun of their audience. Bulgakov let’s his Satanic characters tear heads from bodies, hurl them to Yalta, chase them naked trough the streets of Moscow to uncover their greed and their evil stupidity.

But there is more. Satan has chosen Moscow as the location for his yearly Spring ball, the Gothic Society happening of the Underworld. Everything is ready although one key invitee is missing… a hostess to welcome the demonic guests.

Beautiful (and married) Margarita has fallen in love with a writer who is called “the Master”. They have occasional secret rendezvous in the basement apartment of the artist. The Master is writing a story about Pontius Pilate. While Margarita is reconsidering her marriage and dreaming of a life with her artist lover, the Master like Bulgakov is pondering over the dangerous content of his work.

One day the lover disappears and without Margarita knowing it, is locked up in the asylum. As we end the first part of the book, poor lonely Margarita caught in her marriage has to suffer in silence.

The second part of Bulgakov’s starts with bringing beautiful Margarita and the Devil together.
When the Devil offers her a way out of her unhappy romantic condition, she grabs this opportunity and this classy lady, in a flash, turns into a naked fury riding her broomstick over Moscow and out of pure anger, frustration and revenge destroys a complete building. This act, which again mirrors Bulgakov’s contained rage, Margarita’s wild ride trough the Russian night sky and her subsequent hosting of Satan’s spring ball, allows Bulgakov to paint the most superbly entertaining and spectacular theatrical scenes.
The Devil finds in Margarita an elegant hostess to his party. To reward her for her excellent performance at the grand Demonic Spring ball, the Devil reunites Margarita with her lover.

The Master and Margarita is a great and entertaining book. The pace of narration is fast and the characters and settings are numerous. Fortunately the book is chopped in thirty or so short chapters as if the author wanted us to be able to catch our breath in this whirlwind of Russian literature.

But most of all we are reminded that M&M kept Bulgakov alive during these terrible years and offer us a beautiful insight in his silent resistance.

Magic realism? Naw, broham, it's just what happens when Satan comes to town. I guess the anti-Stalinist undercurrent gives rise to "what creates your reality?"-type thoughts--I say it's not magic realism because everything is explained by a certain dark prince and not part of intrinsic reality, but when your intrinsic reality is "Everything is explained by Stalin! Stalin will tell you what reality is!" then maybe the moniker has a cetain aptness.

Anyway, I like Satan's style. I like the way he empowers people, I like the way him and Jesus work together (the only setup that ever made sense, take note, vulgar Abrahamic religiosity), and when Margarita goees screaming across the sky as a witch for the first time it's like dropping Cinderella into some mashup between An American Tail and some old D&D adventure where David Topovkul outfoxes Demogorgon in hilarious fashion and just as it can't possibly continue any longer the rest of the party burst in and get the blood they've patiently been craving. Poor put-upon Behemoth and Koroviev and Hella (ha!) and Azazello, and what a masterstroke to include the other dude with his empty eyes to remind you, uh . . . pure evil?

Anyway, they put on an amazing show, and I love that Bulgakov not only resolutely sticks to the POV or at least affairs of the cultural nomenklatura and the Moscow bourgeoisie more generally (it's a useful corrective--there was a Moscow bourgeoisie! Not a technocracy, a real honest-to-God-and-Woland-and-Uncle-Joe bourgeoisie with old-world manners and shit) but implicates himself by dropping himself squarely in the centre, nameless but still oddly proud. And you think shit, it was still a tight enough world that old Misha Bulgakov could call up the Chairman and ask to be let out of the country, and if the mass society had made so little headway in the Soviet Union, it really makes you look twice at the American "meritocracy" with its Holts and Thorpes and Rockefellers and Bushes.

But lest this sour you on Bulgakov, first I say, read this book! It was samizdat and fuck Solzhenitsyn, dude, because this prolly saved lives instead of ruining them. And he totally gets the equivocation charge, setting himself up with Pilate the way he does. And the interrogation scene won't chill your blood the same as Orwell's Room 101, but the relish and showmanship that gets put into it chills in a different way--I venture to say that Bulgakov's Azazello even more than Orwell's O'Brien could get away with the "boot stamping on a human face--forever", which is pretty, let's face it, camp.

And there are so many wonderful moments and it makes you sad because there will always be oligarchies and there will always be totalitarianism, but this particular fiery Russian mix of the two, with the class encounter and peasants being asked to be citizens and office workers to be comrades, has vanished from the Earth, and it'll take Satan to bring it back again, and among other things this book makes a good auxiliary argument that we'd accept it with enough bread and circuses and condemn the demons, from Hell or just the Caucasus, twenty years down the road when the fear had worn off. So good for Mikhail, putting this in the world. ( )

I am not sure what to think of this book. It was entertaining and original-- though I found the big chase a bit tiresome. The writing is very vivid and memorable. I know I missed out on numerous references, being no expert in Russian anything. It don't think it is for everyone, and probably not so much for me as I don't care for so much magical realism, but I like trying different types of book and this one was certainly that-- different! ( )

Burlesque fantasy with a series of unforgettable, hilarious and thought provoking stories and situations. Obviously coloured by the Soviet time in which it was written, but I found it nevertheless entertaining and enlightening even today. ( )