GALINA SEDOVA’S BULGAKOV. XIII.

Galina Sedova’s Bulgakov.

The Dark-Violet Knight Continues.

 

…Надо мной чтоб вечно зеленея

Тёмный дуб склонялся и шумел.

…Over me, I wish, a green forever,

A dark oak would bow and rustle.

Mikhail Yurievich Lermontov.

The Golden Chain.

So far, we are done with the Dark-Violet Knight, and now we move on to the next item, which is the Golden Chain.

“…there was now galloping, softly jingling the golden chain of the rein, a dark-violet knight…”

Yet another Pushkin poem instantly leaps to mind:

There’s a green oak by the Lukomorye,

A golden chain is on that oak.

Both day and night, a learned cat

Walks all around along that chain.

When right he walks, a song he’s singing;

When left, a fairytale he tells…

According to a Russian legend passed to us through the annals of history, Vladimir Monomach received a gold chain, along with the “Monomach Hat,” from his grandfather Konstantin Monomach, Emperor of the Byzantine Empire.

Thus the Golden Chain, along which the learned Cat walks around the Oak, is a symbol of supreme power. Pushkin’s Lukomorye is an allegory of Russia. The Oak is the Russian Autocracy; and the Learned Cat is the Poet.

The Calembour.

A most interesting episode takes place on Vorobievy Hills when, as his way of saying goodbye to Moscow, Kot-Begemot asks Woland’s permission to whistle. Permission granted, he whistles.

“There goes a whistle, won’t argue about that,” condescendingly observed Koroviev. “A whistle indeed, but if one chooses to be objective, a very mediocre whistle.”

“Well, I am not a regent, am I?” replied Begemot with dignity and puffing up, and suddenly gave Margarita a wink.

This last gesture shows that although he recognizes the superiority of Koroviev, Begemot does not take that seriously, as he is no spring chicken himself.

Things get even more interesting during the ensuing conversation between Koroviev and Woland, the former asks for his turn to whistle. Woland grants his permission on a condition:

“But watch it, watch it!” came Woland’s stern voice. “No member-maiming tricks.”-- “Messire, believe me, just as a joke, solely as a joke!”

What are they talking about? Here is probably the most explicit clue that Koroviev has to be Pushkin. In Pushkin’s Gavriiliada, Archangel Michael in a fight rips off the devil’s male organ. Curiously, this may be a good reason why Koroviev-Pushkin and the demon-tempter-killer Azazello are on such good terms. Their amicable relationship is in sharp contrast to that between Azazello and Kot-Begemot, for the reason that Kot, the incorrigible jester, constantly taunts Azazello, and all others as well. The hostility on Azazello’s part is such that at one point Azazello proposes: “Kill the stubborn creature!” And in another place: “I say, snuffled Azazello, that it would be nice to have you drowned.”

When Azazello meets Margarita for the first time, his good relationship with Koroviev-Pushkin gets clear.

“I understand I must yield myself to him,” said Margarita pensively. On hearing this, Azazello sort of snorted haughtily and responded thus: “Any woman in the world, I can assure you, would be dreaming about it.” ---Azazello’s mouth twisted in a smirk--- “but I will disappoint you: this is not going to happen.”

Being #2 after Woland, Azazello must be grateful to Koroviev-Pushkin for depriving his master of his male organ, which, in Azazello’s eyes (and not only in his) makes him, Azazello, #1 at least in this department.

Koroviev-Pushkin, on the other hand, has his own way of reminding Woland at the end of his mockery of him. The big oak, uprooted by Koroviev’s whistle, was intended to bring to Woland’s mind Pushkin’s Gavriiliada and Woland’s ripped off male organ…

On the other hand, the uprooted mighty oak can be compared to Pushkin himself. That was how he uprooted himself, by marrying Natalia Nikolaevna Goncharova, who was the one to bring him, albeit indirectly, to death. In his play Alexander Pushkin, Bulgakov writes that Natalia Nikolaevna had no knowledge of her husband’s poetry, telling Zhukovsky that she rather liked his verses.

This explains Bulgakov making Koroviev-Pushkin say these words to Nikanor Ivanovich:

“Sometime over a drink  I am going to relate to you a few facts from my own biography. I bet You’ re going to laugh yourself silly.”

What exactly does he have in mind? His ill-fated marriage? His court duty? The uniform of a Kammerjunker (bringing forth sad memories in him of his erstwhile friends the Decembrists?) whereas he himself never served in the military? Or perhaps the insulting letter he wrote to the adoptive father of D’Anthes, Dutch Ambassador to Russia Van Heeckeren, accusing him of pandering, which accusation had led to the tragic duel.

“How could I forget about it?”- obtusely staring at the opened envelope mumbled Nikanor Ivanovich.

“Things happen, things happen, Nikanor Ivanovich!” twittered Koroviev. “Absentmindedness, absentmindedness and overwork. I am myself absentminded like something terrible…”

Koroviev’s last words are the key to understanding Pushkin’s exasperating situation. How can he ever forget what he is constantly being reminded of in hell, reliving the painful fits of wild jealousy, the ridiculousness of his position.

(To be continued…)