Tuesday, March 24, 2015

GALINA SEDOVA’S BULGAKOV. CLXXX.


Two Adversaries.

The Black Man Continues.

 

My head is flapping its ears,
Like a winged bird,
On the neck of the foot
It can dangle no more.

S. A. Yesenin. The Black Man.
 

Aside from the idea of the top hat, and also, most importantly, of splitting Ivan Ponyrev into the poet Ivan Bezdomny and the demon of the waterless desert Azazello, M. A. Bulgakov was struck by Yesenin’s “wooden horsemen” in the poem The Black Man, considering that Woland’s cavalcade is flying out of Moscow on magic black horses.

If in The Black Man Yesenin writes:

I am by myself at the window,
Expecting no guest, no friend…

…clearly pointing out that his whole conversation with “the black man” is imaginary,---

And the trees, like horsemen gathered in our garden…
Wooden horsemen, sowing hoofy clatter…

…then why wouldn’t Ivanushka, looking out of his window into master’s “little yard,” adjoining his basement apartment, imagine those magical black horses:

“Three black horses were snorting by the shed, quivering, exploding the ground in fountains… The horses, breaking the branches of the linden trees, soared up and pierced the low black cloud... The horses… were rushing over the roofs of Moscow.”

It is for a reason that S. A. Yesenin, in “The Black Man,” is “expecting no guest, no friend.

In an earlier 1916 poem, Yesenin writes:

Where mystery naps eternally…
I am just a guest, an accidental guest
On your mountains, earth.

In chapter 32 of Master and Margarita, Forgiveness and Eternal Refuge, Bulgakov writes that during master’s release of Pontius Pilate:

“He cupped his hands and shouted through them so that an echo started jumping over the desolate and bare mountains: ‘Free! Free! He is waiting for you!’ The mountains transformed master’s voice into thunder, and that same thunder destroyed them. The cursed rocky mountains came down.”

Meanwhile, Yesenin writes:

It wasn’t by you that I was kissed,
It wasn’t with you that I was tied by Fate.
A new way is in store for me,
Leading from sunset to the East.

And this is precisely how Woland’s cavalcade departs from Moscow on their magical black horses:

“…Woland, Koroviev, and Begemot were sitting in the saddles on black stallions, looking down on the city sprawling beyond the river below, with a broken sun sparkling in thousands of windows facing west… The horses rushed forward and the horsemen rose upwards... Woland’s cloak was fluttering over the heads of the whole cavalcade, and this cloak started covering the evening sky. When the black cover was blown aside for a moment, Margarita… glanced back and saw… that the city itself was long gone, sinking into the ground and leaving behind only fog.”

***

From the beginning of time I was fated
To ascend into silent darkness…

…writes Yesenin.

And indeed, after Woland’s “It’s Time!” [by the way, in the last chapter of Master and Margarita Bulgakov himself calls Woland “the prince of darkness”] and “the sharp whistle and laughter of Begemot,” silence sets in. Only Margarita/master continues to talk to Woland. There is no farewell of Margarita to her chaperon Koroviev, now the “dark-violet knight,” nor to Azazello, who, after all, started the whole thing rolling for her, nor even to the usually loquacious, but not now, Begemot.

“Woland pointed to the back,” that is to the west, from which direction they were flying, and by Woland’s words to master/Margarita: “You will be definitely meeting the sunrise,” Bulgakov clearly shows that they are flying eastward, toward the sun, toward sunrise. They will reach their final eternal state of Rest on Easter Sunday.

“Then black Woland, following no road, threw himself into a chasm, and after him all his cavalcade did the same.”

Exactly like Yesenin, who, being Azazello’s prototype, wrote:

A new way is prepared for me,
From the beginning of time I was fated
To ascend into silent darkness…

...where Azazello [who, as we remember, has Yesenin as his prototype] is indeed headed, in the retinue of “the prince of darkness” Woland.

The “chasm” is explained by the destruction of the mountains. And even though Woland and his cavalcade are ostensibly “descending,” whereas Yesenin writes about “ascending” being the first thing,--- there is no contradiction here, because both Yesenin is “ascending” and Woland and his retinue are “descending” into the very same “darkness,” that is, the Universe, surrounding and filling the Earth.

The first Russian scientist and poet M. V. Lomonosov called the Universe “bezdna,” a bottomless chasm without a beginning or an end:

“There opened a bezdna [bottomless chasm] filled with stars;
The stars are countless, the chasm has no bottom.”

And Yesenin repeats this word “bezdna” in his poem:

And over the chasm shall I light up, like two moons,
My never-setting eyes.

Let us not forget that in Master and Margarita M. Bulgakov is playing with the concepts of both time and space. (More about it in my chapter Two Bears.) The game starts with Margarita coming into the “no-good apartment of the jeweler’s widow, in chapter 22, With the Candles:

“The first thing that struck Margarita was the darkness in which she found herself. It was as dark as in a dungeon… [They] started ascending over some broad steps, and it seemed to Margarita that there would be no end to them. She was struck how the anteroom of a regular Moscow apartment could accommodate this extraordinary, invisible, but well-felt endless staircase…”

It is precisely this “endless staircase” from chapter 22, which turns in Bulgakov’s last chapter 32, Forgiveness and the Last Refuge, into a “chasm,” where Woland and his cavalcade rush into.

Considering that Margarita uses the “endless staircase” to ascend toward Woland, that is, Satan, it only proves that Bulgakov’s direction up or down is wholly unimportant, as long as the result is the same, namely, they get into the same bottomless universe.

In this, Bulgakov is following M. Yu. Lermontov in his long poem Demon, where the “prince of darkness” is flying over the earth. Apparently, he lives in the universe, and not somewhere down there, in the bowels of the earth. And also, in his poem Feast at Asmodeus, Lermontov makes sure that with regard to Satan’s dwelling place the sense of direction is also unimportant, as during the feast, Asmodeus/Satan splashes the “wine of freedom” out of his glass straight down to earth.

To be continued…

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