Wednesday, March 26, 2014

GALINA SEDOVA’S BULGAKOV. LXXVII.


“I’m not a villain, oh no, Fate is my ruin…”

M. Y. Lermontov.

 

And so, Professor Persikov lost, and Commissar Rokk practically called open season on the Soviet Union. Instead of inviting foreign specialists from reputable firms, Rokk let inside people who know people, so to speak, anybody who cared to show up regardless of their qualifications, thus opening the door to all kinds of corruption and fraud. [Bulgakov writes about this problem in many of his literary sketches.]
This NEP madness was eventually stopped by Hitler’s second version of Mein Kampf. The first Soviet-friendly version had been written by Hitler in a Bavarian prison under the supervision and influence of the bona fide German patriot Rudolf Hess who, like many other patriots in Germany, was following Bismarck’s testament to his German posterity, to be on good terms with Russia and never get into a situation of fighting a war on two fronts.
The second version of Mein Kampf (consisting of a radically revised First Volume and newly written Volume Two) was commissioned to Hitler for money by anonymous “well-wishers,” who were hiding behind a certain Mr. Czerny. Whatever one may say about that, the people behind Hitler’s” new improved” book were not motivated by Germany’s national interest, which is never the case when money changes hands.
Well, as soon as the new Mein Kampf reached the USSR (and that was very soon!), this spelled the end of NEP. In 1928 Stalin introduced the First Five-Year Plan, focused on an accelerated development of heavy industry, and in the Urals, far away from the reptilians both foreign and domestic, in a neck-breaking rush, the best specimens of military hardware were being built, such as the T-34 tank, for instance, which is still considered universally as the best tank ever built…

The fact that Professor Persikov’s discovery can be understood as an allegory, is revealed by the use of the word “gads” (see my earlier explanation of this word in Russian). The enraged mob breaking into the Institute to kill Persikov accuses him of “letting the gads loose.” Clearly, this word can be interpreted in this larger context not as “reptilians” but as “scoundrels.” Bulgakov shows this broader meaning of “gads” in the already quoted passage in his White Guard:

“Right then an electric charge pierced the brains of the smartest of them… They understood that fate had tied them to the defeated side, and their hearts were filled with horror. ‘The Germans have been defeated,’ said the gads. ‘We have been defeated,’ said the smart gads.” The residents of Kiev understood the same thing.

The horrific murder of Professor Persikov--- a Russian patriot, a cosmopolitan in the best sense of this word, who understands that his nation the Soviet Union cannot live in isolation from the rest of the world--- can be rationalized, although hardly justified, by the generally negative attitude of the Russian people toward the West. Persikov is not to blame for the disaster, brought about by Rokk against Persikov’s better judgment and fiery resistance. Bulgakov’s sympathies are with Persikov, but the people are dead set against him.---

“This Persikov must be shot!” shouted someone’s screechy voice.
“What does Persikov have to do with it?” responded another from the thick. “It’s the son of a bitch in the state farm, that’s who ought to be shot!”
“They should have put up the guard!” yelled someone else.

As we see, there are reasonable people in the crowd, who understand that Persikov is not to blame for the unfolding catastrophe, at least not directly to blame. But the crowd is raging, and it is thirsty for blood, for which reason, guilty or not, Persikov, who has refused to flee, is a dead man.

As I said before, I was struck by the abundance of respect and even love that Bulgakov shows for the character of Professor Persikov. This character in particular indicates Bulgakov’s respect for professionalism in people, whoever they are. Bulgakov’s professional is a master of his trade. This is how Bulgakov wishes to be seen by others. This is why he has given the hero of his last novel the name of Master. Reading A. S. Pushkin’s article Voltaire, I couldn’t help thinking that the following line from Pushkin’s work must have produced a very strong impression on Bulgakov:

“The true place of a writer is his scientific study.”

There is another gruesome depiction of violent death in Fateful Eggs, but this time Bulgakov has no sympathy for the victim. We are talking about Manya, Manechka, Rokk’s wife, the wearer of certain diamond earrings, courtesy of her previous incarnation as Manechka the secretary in Diaboliada, Bulgakov’s embodiment of the vices of the NEP.
She dies a horrible death in front of her husband’s eyes. The husband manages to flee the scene… (Sic!)

“The snake in front of Rokk’s eyes opened its mouth for a moment, out of which something struck out, resembling a fork, then snatched Manya, as she was sinking into the dust, by the shoulder with her teeth with a strength that lifted her some two and a half feet above the ground. Manya repeated her piercing deathly scream. The snake twisted its body in a thirty-five-foot-long screw, its tail raising up a tornado, and started pressing Manya. The woman made no more sounds, and the only sound Rokk could hear was the sound of her cracking bones. High up above the ground came Manya’s head, tenderly pressed to the snake’s cheek. A splash of blood came out of Manya’s mouth, her broken arm popped out, showing fountains of blood coming from under her nails. Next the snake dislocated its jaws, opened its mouth wide and all at once pulled its head over Manya’s head, and started pulling itself over her, like a glove is being pulled on a finger. There was such hot breath coming from the snake in all directions that it touched the face of Rokk, while the snake’s tail nearly swept him off the road in acrid dust. Here is when Rokk’s hair turned white, first the left side, then the right side of his head once black like a boot, changed color to silver. In deathly nausea, he finally tore himself from the road, and seeing nothing and no one, he started running, deafening the neighboring areas with his roar.”

In this terrifying but unsympathetic passage, Bulgakov allegorically depicts the death of the NEP: Manya is being devoured by the snake created by her husband, while her loving husband runs away…

(To be continued...)
 

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