Tuesday, January 16, 2018

GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DXXVII



The Bard. Genesis.
M. A. Berlioz.
Posting #10.


Poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio…

Shakespeare. Hamlet.


From chapter 5 It Happened at Griboyedov’s of Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita, the theme of the head travels to chapter 19, titled Margarita, where Margarita is sitting near the Kremlin Wall on the very same bench she had been sitting with master one year before to a day, positioning herself so that she could see the Manezh, and watching a funeral procession going by. She is asking a question in her head... [This is a clear indication of the connection between Bulgakov’s Margarita and Marina Tsvetaeva, who frequently uses this literary device of asking and answering questions in her head.]

I wonder, whom they are burying there with those surprising faces?

Her silent question is unexpectedly answered by an “unknown citizen” sitting down on the same bench with her, namely, Azazello, whose prototype, same as Ivan Bezdomny’s, is the great Russian writer S. A. Yesenin.

They are burying Mikhail Alexandrovich Berlioz, Chairman of Massolit. Yes, they are sending off a dead man, but thinking only about where the hell had the head got lost.

What head?” – asked Margarita. It turned out that even though the final decision had been to sew Berlioz’s head to the body, it had mystically disappeared anyway, according to Azazello’s explanation to Margarita:

“...This morning at the Griboyedov Hall the dead man’s head was stolen from the coffin… Frighteningly skillfully stolen. Such a scandal! And most importantly, who needed this head and what for?

As the reader already knows, Marina Tsvetaeva (Margarita’s prototype) and Sergei Yesenin (Azazello’s prototype) knew Valery Bryusov (Berlioz’s prototype) pretty well.

How can it be? – involuntarily asked Margarita, at the same time remembering the whispers in the trolleybus… Margarita Nikolayevna had been riding in a trolleybus along Arbat Street, catching a whispered conversation between two citizens sitting to the front of her. From those fragmented bits and pieces she was able to put together something more or less coherent. The citizens were whispering about some dead person whose name was not mentioned, whose head had been stolen this morning, so that the coffin had to be draped with a black cover.”

This conversation was taking place on the way to Manezh.

“Eventually, Margarita Nikolayevna got tired of listening to this mysterious blabbering about someone’s head stolen from a coffin, and she was really happy when it was time for her to get off.”

Very skillfully, Bulgakov not only tells the story of Berlioz’s stolen head, but also uses the word “pora” [“it’s time”]. Chapter 30 of Master and Margarita, where master dies, is titled Pora! Pora! [It’s Time! It’s Time!] Having heard the “distant whistle,” master bids farewell to Ivan, saying: “They are calling me, it’s time for me to go.” At the same time Margarita dies too, in her mansion. Having both master and Margarita die around the same time, Bulgakov follows the wish of Marina Tsvetaeva, who in her diary praises the most of all love stories that of Tristan and Isolde, where the lovers die almost simultaneously.
And so, to Margarita’s question:

So, how can that be?
Devil knows how! – cheekily replied the read-head [Azazello]. I say, however, that Begemot ought to be asked about it. Frighteningly skillfully stolen…

Thus, not only did Pushkin-Koroviev direct Bryusov-Berlioz under the tram, but his buddy Lermontov-Begemot stole his head from the coffin.
The theme of the head in Bulgakov ends only in Chapter 23, Satan’s Great Ball, where the reader finally learns why and for what purpose Berlioz’s head had been stolen. Woland appears in his devil’s guise only at midnight before the “crowds of guests.”

“Limping, Woland stopped by his podium, and instantly Azazello appeared in front of him with a platter in his hands, and on this platter Margarita saw a severed head of a man with knocked-out front teeth… Mikhail Alexandrovich! Woland addressed the head in soft voice, and then the eyelids of the slain man lifted somewhat, and Margarita, shuddering, saw living, full of thought and suffering eyes. –
Everything has turned out the way it has been predicted, hasn’t it? – Woland continued, looking into the eyes of the head. – Your head was cut-off by a woman, the meeting never took place, and I am now living in your apartment. This is a fact, and a fact is the stubbornest thing in the world. [Is Bulgakov quoting US President #2 John Adams here?!] But we are now interested in what comes next, and not this already accomplished fact. You were always an ardent proponent of the theory that on cutting off a person’s head, human life ceases to be; he turns into ashes and departs into non-being. I am pleased to inform you in the presence of my guests, although they are the proof of a totally different theory, that yours is respectable and witty. Well, all theories are worth as much as another. There is one among them which says: To each according to his faith. So let it be fulfilled! You are departing into non-being and it will give me joy to use this cup, into which you are turning, as I drink to being!
Woland raised his sword. Right away, the coverings of the head darkened and shrank, then fell off piece by piece, the eyes disappeared, and soon Margarita saw upon the platter a yellowish skull with emerald eyes and pearl teeth, standing on a golden foot. The top of the skull opened back on a hinge…”

There is a good reason why I am opening my chapter The Bard with Berlioz, that is, with Bryusov. In order to understand the significance given by Bulgakov to the head of Berlioz, one must know, aside from Gumilev’s poem A Tram That Lost Its Way, a very interesting work about human life, also the poetry of the bard, that is, the poetry of A. S. Pushkin, with whom Russian poetry really starts. Specifically, Pushkin’s poem A Message to Delvig, together with Pushkin’s own explanation why he had written it.
Even more so, considering that in its style and content it somehow explains Blok’s desire to write his, alas unfinished, long poem Retribution.

The poem Retribution was also influenced to some extent by Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin.

One of Andrei Bely’s best poems, the long poem First Date, in which the poet showed his skill and from which I’ve taken a lot of material I needed, was written under the influence of the great Pushkin.
Baron Anton Delvig (1798-1831) was a close friend of Pushkin. They studied together at the Tsarskoye Selo Lyceum, Delvig being one year Pushkin’s senior.
Delvig was a poet and a magazine editor. He died at the age of 32 of typhoid fever.

To be continued…

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