Fiction

The Master and Margarita, by Mikhail Bulgakov

Imagine life in 1930s Russia. Now, imagine the Devil disguised as a professor (of black magic, of course) coming to town to perform at an exposition. Using the alias Professor Woland, the Devil is accompanied by his two trusty cohorts: a translator dressed in multi-coloured rags and sporting a cracked pince-nez, and a humongous black cat who walks on its hind legs.

Welcome to the world of magic realism, where poets and prophets play verbal volleyball, we take a trip to the insane asylum, and a couple of characters lose their heads - figuratively and literally. Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita is a novel of black humour littered with weird dreams, spirited women, chess pieces that come alive, and birds who dance the foxtrot. People break out in song uncontrollably, undergo hypnosis (or are they just plain hallucinating?), and have a tendency to metamorphous from one being to another (and from one place to another - thanks to some stinky bewitching cream). Think of Monty Python in a Russian version of The Twilight Zone, and you'll get the picture.

But what's really on Professor Woland's agenda? To find the gentleman who wrote an unpublished novel on Jesus Christ and Pontius Pilate and to let everyone who will listen know (and you will listen), that he, the Devil, and Christ did indeed exist- despite what Moscow's literary elite want to believe. Professor Woland explains in minute detail the meeting between Christ and Pilate, for he was present he'll tell you, and his narration is surprisingly touching. And in the middle of it all is a wonderfully, sweet, love story. A story in which the Devil himself plays a huge part: reuniting two lovers - the Master and his beloved Margarita.

Did I mention the cat has a penchant for cheese and vodka?

With several stories nestled within a story, like one of those Matryoshka dolls, The Master and Margarita travels between Stalinist Russia and ancient Jerusalem (Yershalaim). I found myself reading a paragraph, laughing, re-reading the paragraph to make sure I read it correctly, then laughing again. And I loved the way Bulgakov "talks" to the reader. But although the book is a roller coaster ride of bizarre antics - within a communist climate - there are a number of poignant and shocking moments; Bulgakov's re-telling of Jesus' trial and death is sensitive and thought-provoking (almost making Pontius human), and his Devil, while charming and cunning, (and who has rheumatism, by the way), is never out-and-out evil.

Oh, did I mention the cat talks and gets offended if you refer to him as "Puss in Boots"?

Bulgakov (c'mon, say that name three times really fast!), was originally trained as a physician in the city of Kiev but left to become a writer in Moscow. His father was a professor at a theological academy and his mother was a teacher at a private girls' school. This explains Bulgakov's religious and academic leanings. But the twisted humour? During the time The Master and Margarita was being written, Bulgakov had already made a name for himself (and a reputation, no doubt) by writing witty expos»s for several Soviet newspapers. However, the book did not see the light of day until some thirty years after his death. Evidently, Stalin just didn't see fit to having anyone taking satirical jabs at his regime. Spoil sport.

I mentioned the cat pays its own fare when it travels by streetcar, didn't I?

Wickedly funny, and devilishly clever, The Master and Margarita is a caviar of good and evil served with political, historical, and biblical references, and it's a delicious riot.