The Bard.
Berlioz Is
Dead. Kuzmin Is In Leeches.
Long Live
Bosoy!
Posting #1.
“Bryusov
told us about the demons who are always with us.”
N. S. Gumilev. Articles and Sketches.
Returning now to Berlioz’s jump from the 3rd
chapter of Master and Margarita to
Chapter 9, I would like to remind the reader that Bulgakov does the same thing
with the poet Osip Mandelstam, who dies in chapter 18 in the persona of the
God-fearing buffet vendor Andrei Fokich Sokov, to return in chapter 20 as the
lecherous Nikolai Ivanovich No-Last-Name.
In the case of M. A. Berlioz, everything is the other
way round. In Chapters 1 and 3 he is an unapologetic atheist, whereas in the 15th
chapter he becomes a believer [sic!].
But the most important thing is that having first been
met by The Checkered One on Patriarch
Ponds, and then in the 3rd chapter by The Checkered One again, whom Bulgakov calls Regent, and who is now sending Berlioz to his death under the tram,
– it is The Checkered One yet again,
who meets the reincarnated Berlioz-turned-Nikanor Ivanovich Bosoy in the 9th
chapter, introducing himself to Bosoy as “...well, let us say Koroviev.”
As the reader is well aware, the prototype behind all
aliases of Koroviev is A. S. Pushkin.
Bulgakov describes the meeting of Nikanor Ivanovich
Bosoy and Citizen Koroviev in a very strange fashion. Admitting himself into
the apartment of the late Berlioz (let us not forget that Bosoy fuit Berlioz in his previous literary
incarnation!), Bosoy is in a sense admitting himself into his own flat.
Arriving in his own study in the apartment, Bosoy sees
Koroviev there. –
“...Nikanor Ivanovich removed the seal from the door of the study,
and stepped inside. Having stepped in, however, he stopped in amazement and
even winced [sic!]. Sitting behind the desk of the deceased was an unfamiliar
thin and long citizen in a checkered jacket, wearing a jockey’s cap and a
pince-nez. In a word, that same one...”
[Even before I knew the prototype of Nikanor Ivanovich
Bosoy, I had looked into this scene between him and Koroviev. This scene
supports my insistence on Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin being the prototype of
all these Bulgakovian “names.”]
“...And
who might you be, Citizen? – asked the frightened Nikanor Ivanovich.”
The reader must have noticed that Berlioz too had
experienced a fear of the “checkered one,” but Berlioz had explained it then as
a hallucination. Was it a founded fear? Not so, however, according to Bulgakov
himself. –
“…Berlioz was suddenly seized by such a
strong and unfounded [sic!] fear that he immediately wanted to run away
from Patriarch Ponds without ever looking back. he paled, wiped his forehead
with a handkerchief…And here the balmy air thickened before him, and woven out
of this air appeared a most strange, transparent citizen. A jockey cap upon his
small head, a checkered stumpy jacket, also made out of air. The citizen was
tall, but had narrow shoulders, and was incredibly thin, while his physiognomy,
please mark that, was outright gloating. This long see-through citizen was
dangling in front of him right and left without touching the ground. Then
horror overtook Berlioz, and the checkered one disappeared, together with the
blunt needle previously piercing his heart.”
In the case of Bosoy, though, his amazement, the fact
that he winced are also understandable. He was really frightened, having seen a
stranger in Berlioz’s study.
This is why I am comparing Bulgakov’s works to
intricate maze puzzles. I’ve just retraced my steps back into the Berlioz
character. Fright is present both here and there. And most importantly, this
fright has been caused by the same character: “the Checkered One.”
The reader must also remember that I started solving
Bulgakovian puzzles backwards from the end of the novel Master and Margarita, having been stunned by the persona of the
Dark-Violet Knight.
And it was in such a manner that I had found the
correct approach to many characters and personages of the Bulgakovian
labyrinth.
What strikes the most in the meeting between Bosoy and
the Checkered One is that the latter knows everything about the former, while
Bosoy has no idea who he is talking with.
And immediately in their encounter another common
point comes through. In the conversation between Woland and Berlioz on
Patriarch Ponds, an unpleasantly surprised Berlioz tries to convince the
foreigner that “you
won’t be comfortable at my place. On the other hand, [the hotel] Metropol has
wonderful suites – it’s a first-class hotel.”
By the same token, a perplexed Bosoy tries to impress
on Koroviev that “foreigners
are supposed to stay at the Metropol, and by no means in private apartments.”
Each of these coincidences isn’t very significant by
itself, but placed together with others becomes overwhelming circumstantial
evidence, as Metropol is followed by
the telephone.
Another striking coincidence. M. A. Berlioz is
overwhelmed by the desire to make a telephone call to the authorities about the
strange foreigner he and Ivan Bezdomny have just met on Patriarch Ponds. In a
hurry to make the call from a public phone across the street, his foot slips
and he is killed by the coming tram.
By the same token, N. I. Bosoy is anxious to make a
telephone call to the Intourist Bureau to make inquiries about the foreigner who
wishes to reside temporarily in the no-good apartment #50.
But the similarities do not end there. During his
weird “hallucination” on Patriarch Ponds, “[Berlioz]
suddenly stopped hiccupping, his heart gave a jolt and for a moment crashed
down somewhere, then it returned, but with a blunt needle stuck in it.”
Nikanor Ivanovich has a similar experience:
“And nevertheless, somewhere some kind of small
needle was pricking the chairman into the very depth of his soul. It was the
needle of disquiet.”
Also serving as proof is Bosoy’s admission:
“Our
building is inhabited by demonic powers!”
This is Bosoy’s answer to the question that Woland had
asked Berlioz right before sending him across the street to make his phone call
which never was:
“And
the devil doesn’t exist either?”
Let me remind the reader once again that in his Articles and Sketches N. S. Gumilev
writes:
“Bryusov told us about the demons who are
always with us.”
But
Nikanor Ivanovich Bosoy goes even further. Unlike M. A. Berlioz, he becomes a
believer. –
“I have none! [Foreign
Currency.] None, I swear by God! [sic!] Never held it in my hands! –
desperately cried the Chairman.”
The
most the reader can give Berlioz credit for is doubt. A split second before his
gruesome death under the tram, he expressed uncertainty:
“…Then inside Berlioz’s brain someone [sic!] desperately shouted: Neuzheli?! [Can it really be so?!] The tram covered Berlioz… The severed head
was bouncing over the cobbles.”
A
single word in Russian. Neuzheli?! Can
it really be true that God exists?!
To
be continued…
***
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