The Devil has come to town.
But don’t worry – all he wants to do
is stage a magic show.
This absurd premise forms the central plot
of Mikhail Bulgakov’s masterpiece,
The Master and Margarita.
Written in Moscow during the 1930s,
this surreal blend of political satire,
historical fiction, and occult mysticism
has earned a legacy as one of the 20th
century’s greatest novels–
and one of its strangest.
The story begins when a meeting between
two members of Moscow’s literary elite
is interrupted by a strange gentleman
named Woland,
who presents himself as a foreign scholar
invited to give a presentation
on black magic.
As the stranger engages the two companions
in a philosophical debate
and makes ominous predictions
about their fates,
the reader is suddenly transported
to first-century Jerusalem.
There a tormented Pontius Pilate
reluctantly sentences Jesus of
Nazareth to death.
With the narrative shifting between
the two settings,
Woland and his entourage– Azazello,
Koroviev, Hella,
and a giant cat named Behemoth–
are seen to have uncanny magical powers,
which they use to stage their performance
while leaving a trail of havoc
and confusion in their wake.
Much of the novel’s dark humor comes
not only from this demonic mischief,
but also the backdrop
against which it occurs.
Bulgakov’s story takes place in the same
setting where it was written–
the USSR at the height of the
Stalinist period.
There, artists and authors worked
under strict censorship,
subject to imprisonment, exile,
or execution
if they were seen as undermining
state ideology.
Even when approved, their work–
along with housing, travel,
and everything else–
was governed by a convoluted bureaucracy.
In the novel, Woland manipulates this
system along with the fabric of reality,
to hilarious results.
As heads are separated from bodies
and money rains from the sky,
the citizens of Moscow react with
petty-self interest,
illustrating how Soviet society bred greed
and cynicism despite its ideals.
And the matter-of-fact narration
deliberately blends
the strangeness of the supernatural
events
with the everyday absurdity
of Soviet life.
So how did Bulgakov manage to publish
such a subversive novel
under an oppressive regime?
Well… he didn’t.
He worked on The Master and Margarita
for over ten years.
But while Stalin’s personal favor
may have kept Bulgakov safe
from severe persecution,
many of his plays and writings
were kept from production,
leaving him safe but effectively silenced.
Upon the author’s death in 1940,
the manuscript remained unpublished.
A censored version was eventually
printed in the 1960s,
while copies of the unabridged manuscript
continued to circulate
among underground literary circles.
The full text was only published in 1973,
over 30 years after its completion.
Bulgakov’s experiences with censorship
and artistic frustration
lend an autobiographical air to the
second part of the novel,
when we are finally introduced
to its namesake.
‘The Master’ is a nameless author who’s
worked for years on a novel
but burned the manuscript
after it was rejected by publishers–
just as Bulgakov had done
with his own work.
Yet the true protagonist is the Master’s
mistress Margarita.
Her devotion to her lover’s abandoned
dream bears a strange connection
to the diabolical company’s escapades–
and carries the story to
its surreal climax.
Despite its dark humor and
complex structure,
The Master and Margarita is, at its heart,
a meditation on art, love, and redemption
that never loses itself in cynicism.
And the book’s long overdue publication
and survival against the odds
is a testament to what Woland tells the
Master:
“Manuscripts don’t burn.”