GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DCI

The Bard.

A Little Town.

Posting #2.

“In our time by the word ‘novel’ we understand

 a historical epoch developed in a magnificent narrative,”

A. S. Pushkin. On Walter Scott.

“…My friends are dead people,

Priests of Parnassus…”

So, what did Pushkin have in mind, writing this?

“…Over a plain shelf,

Covered by thin taffeta,

They are living with me.

Eloquent bards,

Tongue-in-cheek prosaics,

They have filed in here in order…”

And who does the sixteen-year-old Pushkin start with?

“...Son of Momus and Minerva,

The wicked yeller of Ferney.

The first poet among poets,

You are here, gray-haired mischief-maker!

He was raised by Phoebus,

Becoming a poet since childhood,

The one most read,

The one least oppressive,

Rival of Euripides,

A tender friend of Eros,

Grandson of Ariosto and Tasso,

And shall I say, father of Candide?”

And so, in his youth, Pushkin considered Voltaire as number one of his mentors, probably on account of his freethinking spirit, because otherwise, Voltaire as a man disappointed Pushkin later in life.

“…On the shelf behind Voltaire

Are Virgil, Tasso, and Homer,

Then, together with Derzhavin,

The sensitive Horace comes…

Brought up by Amur,

Vergier, Parny with Grecourt

Are hiding in a corner…

Here are Ozerov and Racine.

Rousseau and Karamzin,

And with Moliere the giant,

Fonvizin and Knyazhnin.

Behind them, frowning pompously,

Their frightful Aristarch

Appears undauntedly

In sixteen volumes…”

In Master and Margarita, Bulgakov is also making a big emphasis on master’s library. –

“…And in the first room – a huge room: fourteen square meters – books, books, and a furnace…”

And then:

“Ivan imagined to himself already the two rooms in the basement of a little mansion, where twilight always reigned, because of the lilac and the fence, the red worn-out furniture, the bureau, with a mantelpiece clock on it, which chimed every half-hour, and the books, books from the painted floor up to the sooty ceiling, and the furnace.”

Master was taking good care of his books, as Bulgakov describes it this way:

“…Sometimes she would squat by the lower shelves or climb up a chair to reach the higher ones, and used a piece of cloth to wipe the dust off hundreds of book spines…”

Although Margarita has a prototype in the Russian poetess Marina Tsvetaeva, she was not romantically involved with any of the poets whom Bulgakov uses for master’s prototype, namely, Blok, Gumilev, and Bely. And indeed, such a woman could only exist in their imagination, as well as in Marina Tsvetaeva’s own imagination.

But I think that these poets were looking for glamor rather than mind in a woman, but Bulgakov’s Margarita is an intelligent woman. That’s why Bulgakov took so much material from Tsvetaeva’s Reminiscences.

So, what are the books which master keeps in his library?

“Ah, that was the Golden Age!, whispered the storyteller [master], his eyes sparkling…”

The “Golden Age” of Russian literature is commonly recognized as the 19^th century, the age of Pushkin, Lermontov, Turgenev, the Tolstoys, and Dostoyevsky. But in order to write his Pontius Pilate, master also needed other, different books, particularly the Euangelion of the New Testament Bible, as well as books on the history of the time of Jesus Christ.

Out of the four Evangelists, Bulgakov picks one: Matthew Levi, and following Pushkin’s advice on writing historical novels, he inserts him into the sub-novel Pontius Pilate.

Pushkin was of a very high opinion of the “Scottish Sorcerer,” as he called Walter Scott. “In our time by the word ‘novel’ we understand a historical epoch developed in a magnificent narrative,” he writes.

Pushkin takes this idea from Mikhail Orlov who in a letter to Prince Vyazemsky laments that N. M. Karamzin in his History of the Russian State “did not include some kind of brilliant hypothesis of his about the origin of the Slavs, that is, he demanded a novel in history – new and brave!”

Bulgakov introduces a very peculiar earthly origin of Jesus Christ, making Yeshua a son of a Syrian father, and mother unknown. This is how Bulgakov’s Yeshua responds to Pilate’s question: “Who are you by blood?”

“I do not know for sure, the arrestee responded in a lively manner. I do not remember my parents. I was told that my father was a Syrian…”

Not long ago I was struck by the Pope Franciscus referring to Syria as “My dear Syria.” The point is that unlike in most Arab countries, Syria, like Egypt, has preserved an ancient Christian community. Three centuries before the birth of Christ, Syria and Egypt were conquered by Alexander of Macedon and from then on both countries were ruled by the Greeks. At the time of Christ these territories, including other Arab lands, were under the Roman rule, but their military units were included in the Roman army. This is how it came about that Syrian cavalry was prancing through the streets of Yershalaim in Bulgakov’s sub-novel Pontius Pilate.

To be continued…

***

GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DC

The Bard.

A Little Town.

Posting #1.

“…My friends are dead people…”

A. S. Pushkin. A Little Town.

I must admit that it was a big surprise for me to discover yet another “Magnificent Four” of Russia’s 20^th-century poets in Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita.

Initially, I was thinking that with the chapter Woland Identity my work would be over.

But I also have to admit how exciting for me is this continuing work that I am now plunging myself into, wholeheartedly. So far, I have picked just three works of A. S. Pushkin, which I will be focusing on, but who knows how large this new sapling is going to grow.

And so, we begin with an early Pushkin work, written at the age of 16.

The title of the present chapter, The Bard, is not so much addressing Pushkin as a poet, as it looks at him as a mentor, bubbling with ideas which he freely passes on to the subsequent generations of Russian poets.

In this chapter, especially having added the new “Magnificent Four” of Russia’s 20^th-century poets, namely, Andrei Bely, Alexander Blok, Nikolai Gumilev, and Marina Tsvetaeva, it becomes necessary to demonstrate their succession from the originator of Russian poetry, A. S. Pushkin, as his language has indeed become the gold standard of modern Russian language.

Pushkin’s influence on Russian literature is boundless. Those who understand this learn not only from Pushkin himself, but also from other poets who have followed Pushkin.

Among such last examples may be Vladimir Vysotsky, poet, songwriter, actor, and legend, whose funeral in 1980 was attended by the whole of Moscow. Listening to the songs of this incredible nugget, I can easily trace the influence of those Russian poets about whom I have already written so much in the course of my work.

Vladimir Vysotsky would never have been so popular or so proficient, had he not studied the best of what had been written before him…

***

In his first work, titled A Little Town, written by Pushkin at the age of 16, we can trace a very interesting interconnectedness between the Russian mystical poet of early 20^th century Alexander Blok and the Russian mystical writer of the first half of the 20^th century Mikhail Bulgakov.

I have come to the conclusion that, having studied the creative work of Blok and of other Russian poets, Bulgakov discerned, and agreed, with their idea of tracing and using hidden ideas for their own works. This turned out very useful for Bulgakov, as all these poets whose poetry he was using, would find their place in Bulgakov’s works, particularly, in Master and Margarita.

Pushkin’s A Little Town is a charming poem, written by a 16-year-old lad soon after the rout of Napoleon’s Grande Armée by the Russian troops and the subsequent liberation of all Europe.

A. S. Pushkin narrates his epistolary tale from the person who had obviously been a participant in the wars of liberation. It is devised as a letter to an old friend after a two-year silence, caused by the author’s two-year sojourn in St. Petersburg, busy putting his affairs in order. The issue must probably be his pension, after settling which, he retires to a small town where the hero has rented a little house and starts living a life of a “lazy philosopher.”

And so, our story begins. Running ahead of myself, I need to warn the reader that at the end, he or she is in for a big surprise. By now it must be obvious that, by my nature, I just cannot do without surprises.

“I’m living in a little town, unknown and happy,

I’ve rented a light-filled house with a sofa and a fireplace;

Three simple little rooms – No gold or bronze in them,

And patterned cloth doesn’t cover their parquet.”

It is from this poem that Bulgakov gets his idea to put master, who has just won 100,000 rubles in a lottery, in a small but separate flat in the basement of a real estate developer’s house. Master has just two rooms, though.

“Having won 100,000 rubles, Ivan’s mysterious guest did the following: He dropped his room on Myasniskaya Street and rented from a developer in a side street off Arbat two rooms in the basement of a small house with a little garden…”

Is it possible not to admire Bulgakov’s masterful touch: master rents a two-room basement flat from a developer living in a small house [sic!]. Bulgakov clearly shows a continuity from Pushkin and his “Little Town.” Side streets off Arbat can well pass off for a little town in itself, although they are located in the very center of Moscow close by the Kremlin. (See my notes about this historical district of Moscow, where Alex and I used to live, in my chapter The Fantastic Love Story of Master and Margarita, posted segment XXVI.)

“…A perfectly separate little flat, plus an anteroom and in it a sink with running water… I was sitting in the other, altogether tiny room… – the guest began to measure space with his hands. – So, here is a sofa, and another sofa facing it. And a little table between them, and upon it, a beautiful night lamp… And right here a small writing desk…”

And if in Pushkin we have:

“…And while, my precious friend,

Lit by the fireplace,

I’m sitting by the window

With paper and a quill…”

– in Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita, we have master saying –

“…I opened the window and was sitting in the other, perfectly tiny room… How extraordinary is the smell of lilac! And my head was becoming light from tiredness, and Pilate was flying to its conclusion…”

And this is all because of Pushkin’s –

“…Windows [opening] into a happy garden,

Where ancient linden and bird-cherry tree are blooming,

Where in the midday hours I get cool shade

From the dark covers of the birches…”

And this is what we read in Bulgakov:

“…tiny windows right over the walkway leading from the gate, and right in front, just four steps away under the fence, lilac, linden and a maple tree. Ah, ah, ah!”

Already on page 2, Pushkin’s hero is relishing his solitude:

“…Hiding in the study,

I am not bored being by myself,

And often in a rapture

I forget the whole world…”

And here is Bulgakov:

“The historian lived alone, having no relatives and almost no acquaintances in Moscow.”

It was while reading this poem by the 16-year-old Pushkin that I made a huge discovery for myself:

“…My friends are dead people,

Priests of Parnassus…”

It is from right here that Bulgakov took the idea of surrounding himself with dead people, namely by the two sets of the “Magnificent Four” of great Russian poets, where only the second set features the sole woman-poet of the eight, the only one still alive at the time, but who would survive Bulgakov himself by just one year…

To be continued…

***

GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DXCIX

The Bard.

Bezdomny’s Progress.

Posting #4.

“Only now did the procurator notice

that there was no sun anymore.

Twilight had come.”

M. A. Bulgakov. Master and Margarita.

After all said and done, I must confess that the sly Bulgakov has fooled me once again. The comparison of Dr. Stravinsky and his retinue to Pontius Pilate and his retinue, made by the poet Ivan Bezdomny at the psychiatric clinic, if it does not decisively outweigh all arguments in favor of V. Ya. Bryusov, at least puts him in equal competition with K. D. Balmont. Added to this argument is Professor Stravinsky’s frequent use of the word “slavno,” “glorious,” as in “that’s glorious!” – instead of “that’s good!”

This word must also belong to Bryusov, as Marina Tsvetaeva writes in her memoirs:

“…Passion for glory. And this is Rome. Who among those named – Balmont, Blok, Vyacheslav [Ivanov], Sologub – sought glory? Balmont? Too much in love with himself and the world. Blok? Entirety of conscience? – A Russian considers striving for glory in one’s lifetime either deplorable or ludicrous. Love of glory: love of self. Only Bryusov alone thirsted for glory. This ‘Stone Guest’ was a lover of glory…”

What confused me was a particular article by N. S. Gumilev. In his judgment, K. D. Balmont falls into the circle of Symbolists, “eager to hypnotize not by their subjects, as much as by the mode of their transmission,” alongside such poets as Edgar Alan Poe, Mallarme, Vyacheslav Ivanov.

So what kind of conclusion are we supposed to come to? Once again Marina Tsvetaeva enters the picture:

“…Balmont. Bryusov. Both of them ruled then. In other worlds, as you see, a diarchy contrary to our world is possible. As for the Balmont-Bryusov diarchy, it presents us with an unheard of, inconceivable in history example of a benign diarchy not only of non-friends, but of enemies.”

And the very last line here struck me in particular:

“…As you see, one can learn not just from poets’ verses.”

Thus in the character of Dr. Stravinsky both these Russian poets are present: both Bryusov (Pontius Pilate, “Glorious!”) and Balmont. Considering that these two names, Balmont and Bryusov, were circulated as a pair, it is this “pair” which is depicted in the 8^th chapter of Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita: A Duel Between the Professor and the Poet.

This made me think about the character of Pontius Pilate. There can be no doubt that Pilate’s prototype is V. Ya. Bryusov. But remembering N. S. Gumilev’s words about Bryusov’s “feminine moonness” as opposed to the “masculine sunness” of Vyacheslav Ivanov, I decided to revisit the 2^nd chapter of Master and Margarita: Pontius Pilate.

And then I understood that in the scenes where Pontius Pilate has to be exposed to the sun, which he definitely dislikes, his character reveals features of K. D. Balmont, knowing that Balmont has written the poetry collection Let Us Be Like the Sun.

I also remember that for his meeting with Aphranius, the Procurator chooses a palace room shaded from the sun by dark drapes. This can be explained not only by the fact that Aphranius happens to be the chief of the secret guard, but by Pilate’s own dislike of the sun.

It is precisely after this meeting that Pontius Pilate changes rather dramatically. Bulgakov writes:

“The procurator was screwing up his eyes not because the sun was burning his eyes, no! For some reason, he did not want to see the group of the condemned [which included Yeshua, and because of him being there].”

Likewise, note the following sentence, which points to Balmont with his Let Us Be Like the Sun:

“Pilate raised his head and stuck it right into the sun…”

And also Bulgakov’s following words:

“A green fire lit up under his [Pilate’s] eyelids, and his brain caught fire from it.”

These words also point to K. D. Balmont, who has a poetry collection titled Burning Buildings.

Bulgakov writes:

“The city he hated so much has died, and he is standing alone, burned by the sun’s vertical rays.”

These words show us that Bulgakov returns Bryusov into the personage of Pontius Pilate. But just a few sentences later Balmont is back:

“...It appeared to him [Pontius Pilate] then as though the sun, ringing, burst over him, and flooded his ears with fire. Inside this fire, raged roar, squeals, moans, laughter, and whistling...”

In the 25^th chapter of Master and Margarita: How the Procurator Tried to Save Judas from Kyriath Bulgakov returns to the theme of the sun in Pilate’s conversation with Aphranius:

“And now you tell me, did they give them the [intoxicating] beverage before hanging them on the poles?

Yes, but he [sic!] – here the guest [Aphranius] closed his eyes – declined to drink it.

Who was it?

Forgive me, Igemon! – exclaimed the guest. – I did not say? Ha-Nozri.

Madman! – said Pilate, grimacing for some reason. A little vein was pulsating under his left eye. – To die being burned by the sun! [sic!]

The chapter closes with Aphranius [Balmont] taking his leave. Bulgakov writes his last sentence of the chapter:

“Only now did the procurator notice that there was no sun anymore. Twilight had come.”

And so, the personage of Pontius Pilate is also dual, like that of Dr. Stravinsky’s. Bryusov dominates through his strength and will (the Roman). Balmont enters through his three collections of poetry: Only Love; Let Us Be Like The Sun; and The Burning Buildings.

This is not the only time when Bulgakov joins two poets in the personage of Aphranius. In other words, aside from Balmont, there is another Russian poet in Chapter 26 The Burial. Both the researcher and the reader can try their hand with this, as this story is extremely interesting. I have it in another chapter. Alpha and Omega.

The End of Bezdomny’s Progress.

***

GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DXCVIII

The Bard.

Bezdomny’s Progress.

Posting #3.

“Blow your whistle!”

M. A. Bulgakov. Master and Margarita.

And so, from the character of “Archibald Archibaldovich,” the Russian poet K. D. Balmont leaps from the 5^th chapter of Master And Margarita: The Affair at Griboyedov, into chapter 8: The Duel Between the Professor and the Poet.

When a fight erupts at the restaurant between Ivan Bezdomny and the customers, no one guessed that the prototype of the “famous poet” happens to be a truly famous Russian people’s poet S. A. Yesenin.

Pity no one’s guessed it, for Bulgakov has provided a thread for unraveling the ball of yarn of the celebrities in Master And Margarita and in other works of his. Yesenin indeed liked fighting and brawls, especially when drunk. Bulgakov writes:

“While the waiters were tying up the poet with towels, a conversation took place in the cloakroom between the ship’s commander [Archibald Archibaldovich] and the doorman. You saw he was in his underpants? – repeated the pirate.

– Have mercy… I understand it myself. There are ladies sitting on the veranda.

– Dames have nothing to do with it. It’s all the same to the dames, – replied the pirate, literally incinerating the doorman with his eyes…”

[The words: “incinerating with his eyes” point to K. D. Balmont, who wrote the poetry collection The Burning Buildings.]

“– A man in underwear can be walking the street if he is accompanied by the police, and he is on the way to the police precinct…

–  So what am I going to do with you for this? – asked the Flibustier. The skin on the doorman’s face took a typhoid hue, and his eyes became like dead. He hallucinated that the black hair, now parted, was covered by flaming silk.”

And here we do have a double allusion to K. D. Balmont, both through the word “flaming” (as in The Burning Buildings) and through the word “silk.” At the end of chapter 18, The Hapless Visitors, Bulgakov introduces Professor Bure, whose prototype is the Russian poet K. D. Balmont. (See my chapter A Barbarian At The Gate.)

“Two hours later Professor Kuzmin was sitting on his bed in the bedroom with leeches hanging from his temples, behind his ears, and on his neck. At the foot of his bed, over the silken quilted blanket, sat the white-moustached Professor Bure, compassionately looking at Kuzmin, while consoling him to the effect that all of it was stuff and nonsense.”

In this passage, Bulgakov reconciles the two Russian poets, K. Balmont and V. Bryusov. According to Marina Tsvetaeva, Balmont left Russia never to return, without mending bridges with his “foe” Bryusov.

“And you, Marina, tell Bryusov that I am not bowing my adieu to him.”

A very nice gesture on Bulgakov’s part. As I already wrote before, the “leeches” here represent the “vermin of poetry” (Marina Tsvetaeva’s expression), which in 1924 overpowered the Russian Symbolist V. Ya. Bryusov in Moscow. Having found conflicting reports about the circumstances of Bryusov’s death at the age of 50 (Marina Tsvetaeva hints that it may have been a drug-induced suicide), I tend to think that, like many other poets, he may have taken his own life.

Still, through the words “incinerating” and “flaming” Bulgakov is, as usual, trying to lead the researcher astray, considering that Bryusov had written the novel The Fiery Angel about his triangle affair with the married Russian poetess Nina Petrovskaya, whom he shared with none other than the poet Andrei Bely. [See my chapter The Bard. Genesis. M. A. Berlioz.]

Continuing to describe the fear of the “half-crazed doorman,” Bulgakov writes:

“…The doorman imagined himself hanging from a ship’s [mast]. With his own eyes he saw his own tongue hanging out, and his lifeless head fallen on his shoulder. But here the Flibustier took pity on him and extinguished his sharp gaze.

Watch it, Nikolai! This is the last time…

The commander issued orders succinctly, clearly and fast: Pantelei from the buffet. Police. Protocol. Automobile. Psychiatric Clinic. – And he added: Blow your whistle!”

It is simply amazing that the very same prototype, namely, K. D. Balmont, in the person of Archibald Archibaldovich sends the poet Ivan Bezdomny to the psychiatric clinic where he is admitted by a physician on duty in chapter 6: Schizophrenia, As It Was Said It Was [by Woland], reappears in chapter 8: The Duel Between the Professor and the Poet in the person of the celebrated professor Dr. Stravinsky.

But is that so?..

To be continued…

***

GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DXCVII

The Bard.

Bezdomny’s Progress.

Posting #2.

“His Moscow is his anguish. Longing for

what is not to be, where he is not to live.

The unreachable dream of a foreigner...”

Marina Tsvetaeva. On Balmont.

The question remains: why is it K. D. Balmont who is chosen to play the psychiatrist? Even without knowing whether Bulgakov had ever met Balmont in person, I am left with the supposition that Bulgakov must have heard something about the poet that turned him in this direction. Considering that Marina Tsvetaeva wrote her memoirs after the death of V. Ya. Bryusov in 1925, it is quite likely that Bulgakov may have learned about Balmont from the same memoirs.

Marina Tsvetaeva pictures Balmont as not of this world:

“…Having been born, Balmont revealed the fourth dimension: Balmont!, the fifth element” Balmont!, the sixth sense and the sixth continent of the world: Balmont! He lived in them. His love for Russia was the infatuation of a foreigner…”

Marina Tsvetaeva also calls Balmont “an enchanted traveler never to return home.” She also had “a feeling that Balmont was speaking some kind of foreign language – which one, I don’t know – the Balmontian language.” And also considering the fact that the action in the novel Master and Margarita takes place in Moscow, it is relevant to mention here what Tsvetaeva writes about it:

“His Moscow is his anguish. Longing for what is not to be, where he is not to live. The unreachable dream of a foreigner...”

But the most important thing is that only Bulgakov could reconstruct from Marina Tsvetaeva’s memoirs a psychological profile of Balmont, and thus, for reasons known to him only, make him now a doctor of neuropathology, now a psychiatrist. Bulgakov probably thought that Balmont had a calming effect on the people surrounding him.

Marina Tsvetaeva also seems to testify to this:

“And so will Balmont remain in Russian poetry – as a guest from overseas – bearing gifts, sweet-talking, enchanting it – by storm – and likewise sunk.”

This is exactly why Bulgakov introduces the scene of hypnosis into the 8^th chapter of Master and Margarita: A Duel Between the Professor and the Poet:

“Do you hear me? – suddenly and meaningfully inquired Stravinsky, taking hold of both hands of Ivan Nikolayevich. Having gripped them in his, he peered into Ivan’s eyes for a long time, repeating: You will be helped here. Can you hear me? You are going to be helped here. You are going to get relief. It’s quiet in here, all is calm. You will be helped here. Ivan Nikolayevich suddenly yawned, the expression of his face smoothened. Yes, yes, he said softly.”

This is how Bulgakov describes the last hours of the life of the Russian poet Sergei Yesenin, who serves as the prototype of both the poet Ivan Bezdomny and the demon-assassin Azazello. Having fled from the psychiatric clinic where he was supposed to get help, to Peterburg, Yesenin committed suicide by cutting his wrists in a hotel there, hence the name Azazello and also Azazello’s preference: “I prefer Rome [to Moscow].”

Here we have a double-meaning in Bulgakov. The Russian Orthodox consider Moscow the Third (and the last) Rome, thus putting Moscow above all other cities of the world, including Peterburg and Rome itself – the First Rome that had fallen. P. I. Tchaikovsky wrote a cantata on this subject, where the singers proclaim the supremacy of the Third Rome, “and a Fourth is not to be!”

This is how Bulgakov reconciles the perished poet with Orthodox Christianity. [See my subchapter A Taste of Bulgakov’s History. Posting XXXVI.]

It is also important to note that just like Azazello (whose prototype is Sergei Yesenin) is offering Andrei Fokich Sokov a “taburet” to sit on, there is a sole taburet in Ivan’s room, which Professor Stravinsky takes for himself.

This “taburet” miraculously changes into an armchair for master in Chapter 13: The Appearance of the Hero. That’s how it is, as Koroviev would say. (See my chapter Who Is Who In Master.)

By the way, returning to Koroviev, it is precisely because of Marina Tsvetaeva’s discourse about the Balmontian world with its “4^th dimension, 5^th element, 6^th sense, and 6^th part of the world,” in which he lived.

In Chapter 22 With Candles Bulgakov gives Koroviev [Pushkin] the following tirade, when Margarita expresses her bewilderment as to how such a spacious hall can fit into a normal Moscow flat. –

“Koroviev sweetly grinned. [The explanation] couldn’t be simpler, he replied. Those who are familiar with the fifth dimension [sic!] can easily expand any given space to the required limits. I can say even more, dear lady, to devil knows what limits!”

It is clear now why Bulgakov introduces this discourse coming from Koroviev. They are talking about poetry where Pushkin has no equals. All roads of Russian literature lead to Pushkin.

To be continued…

***

GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DXCVI

The Bard.

Bezdomny’s Progress.

Posting #1.

“Balmont. Bryusov. Their only connection was

their foreignness. In a Russian fairytale, Balmont

is not Ivan-Tsarevich but a guest from overseas.”

Marina Tsvetaeva. Memoirs.

Remember that the word “taburet” first pops up already in the 8^th chapter of M. Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita: A Duel Between the Professor and the Poet, that is, ten whole chapters before Azazello’s Cream! Having been committed to a psychiatric clinic, the poet Ivan Bezdomny, after a thorough medical examination and breakfast, gets an unexpected visit.

Bulgakov writes:

“The door to Ivan’s room opened suddenly and a multitude of people in white [sic!] coats entered through it. Ahead of them all came a carefully, actor-style shaven man of about 45, with pleasant, but piercing eyes and polite manners. His retinue was showing him signs of respect and attention, and because of it, his entrance turned out quite solemn. Like Pontius Pilate, thought Ivan. Yes, he was undoubtedly the boss...”

And here it comes:

“He sat down on the taburet, and the rest remained standing. Doctor Stravinsky – the seated man introduced himself to Ivan and looked at him in a friendly manner.”

Here Bulgakov also confuses the researcher into believing that just because of the presence of the Russian composer Rimsky-Korsakov (whom he plainly calls: “Rimsky”) in the novel Master and Margarita, there has to be another Russian composer here, equally plainly called “Stravinsky.”

But this would be wrong.

In the 18^th chapter The Hapless Visitors, at the very end, two distinguished MD’s are making their entrance: Professor. Kuzmin, whose prototype is the Russian poet V. Ya. Bryusov, and since the appearance of A. F. Sokov causes a range of weird developments in Professor Kuzmin’s office, the good doctor calls upon the services of his friend and classmate Professor. Bure, to help him steady up his nerves.

How can we forget in this connection Marina Tsvetaeva’s memoirs? –

“Balmont, Bryusov.” In those years in Russia the name of the one was never said (or at least thought of) without the other. There were other poets, of course, and they were no lesser ones, they were named in a singular mode. But those two went together like a slip of the tongue. They came up as a pair.”

I know that I’ve already quoted this passage in the preceding chapter Professor Kuzmin: Barbarian at the Gate. But this is very important information for the researcher, and it must be repeated. When I was writing the previous chapter, I had just discovered for myself the theme of armchair. And while rereading the 18^th chapter of Master and Margarita: The Hapless Visitors, I found an apparent discrepancy between a taburet and a small bench. It took me some time to discover the name of Professor Bure in the word “taburet.”

And then it struck me. This is why Bulgakov, in the case of Andrei Fokich Sokov, substitutes the word “taburet” by “small bench.” Osip Mandelstam simply does not measure up to a “taburet,” which in all truth belongs to the Russian poet K. D. Balmont. Marina Tsvetaeva writes:

“Balmont. Bryusov. Their only connection was their foreignness. In a Russian fairytale, Balmont is not Ivan-Tsarevich but a guest from overseas.”

Considering that the name Balmont proper [with the second syllable stressed, which, according to Marina Tsvetaeva, was the preference of Balmont himself] is of French origin, the word taburet is also of French origin (tabouret), from which Bulgakov draws out the French-sounding name Bure.

Why do I think that Professor Stravinsky has the same prototype as Professor Bure?

To begin with, having come to the room of the patient Ivan Bezdomny, Professor Stravinsky sits down on the taburet, while the rest of his entourage remain standing.

Secondly, because it entered Ivan’s mind that the Professor was “like Pontius Pilate,” whose prototype is V. Ya. Bryusov, and Marina Tsvetaeva has “two tsars” of the time: two Russian poets V. Ya. Bryusov and K. D. Balmont.

“[Professor Stravinsky’s] retinue was showing him signs of respect and attention, and because of it, his entrance turned out to be quite solemn.”

And thirdly, the medical specializations of Professor Bure – in neuropathology, and of Professor Stravinsky – in psychology, are related, both dealing with the functioning of the nervous system.

I do not know whether Bulgakov ever met Balmont, who left Russia for France even before the death of Alexander Blok and the execution of Nikolai Gumilev. But I understand why Bulgakov has given this personage the last name Stravinsky. Balmont had a hard life in the West, his poetry was apparently out of fashion by then. At the end (and he died in 1942), he was supported by several Russian composers, including Igor Stravinsky and Sergei Rachmaninov. It is amazing how the Russians think alike wherever they live. Long after Bulgakov’s death, in 1951 Igor Stravinsky wrote the opera Rake’s Progress, influenced by a series of engravings by William Hogarth. The opera displays a similarity to Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita, although Stravinsky could not have any knowledge of the novel, which was first published in heavily censored form only in the 1960’s.

This is why my subchapter has the title Bezdomny’s Progress. I believe that both the name Stravinsky and Bulgakov’s tendency to transfer his prototypes from one personage to another support my assertion.

And so, Balmont appears in Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita always briefly and as a foreigner. The researcher needs to remember that this Russian poet appears there already in the 2^nd chapter: Pontius Pilate, and in a very mysterious way at that:

“As the secretary was calling a meeting, the procurator was having a tête-à-tête in a room shaded from the sun by dark curtains with a man whose face was half-covered by a hood, even though the rays of the sun could not bother him inside the room. The procurator said a few words to the man, after which the man departed...”

The first meeting of Pontius Pilate (whose prototype is the Russian poet Valery Bryusov) happens to be with the chief of secret service Afranius (whose prototype is the Russian poet K. Balmont). Here, like in other places, Bulgakov is using an interesting literary device, which I call “coming from the contrary.”

The two places that I underlined in Bulgakov’s passage above point to Balmont, who has a poetry collection titled Let Us Be Like the Sun. Bulgakov proves this by drawing attention to this not just once but twice in the course of one sentence: “shaded from the sun” and “even though the rays of the sun could not bother him inside the room.” Terrific!

What is also stunning is that Balmont’s appearance in this scene is so brief. And as always, in the 8^th chapter Balmont appears as another character: Dr. Stravinsky. Bulgakov masterfully controls these two parallel realities two thousand years apart, shuttling the same prototype between Pontius Pilate, the subnovel, and Master and Margarita proper.

Also briefly Balmont appears in Chapter16 The Execution where Bulgakov keeps calling him [as Afranius] “the man in the hood.” (See my chapter The Garden about this.) Balmont’s role significantly expands in Chapter 25 How the Procurator Tried to Save Judas from Kyriath, burned by master, and especially in Chapter 26 The Burial. (See also my chapter The Garden.)

To be continued…

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