Poplavsky.
The Drowning
Uncle.
Posting #1.
“Poor
nephew! What an uncle!”
A. S. Pushkin. The Real Vyzhigin.
The intriguing aspects of S. L. Maksudov’s duel,
taking place in his novel-turned-into-play: Black
Snow, courtesy of M. A. Bulgakov’s Theatrical
Novel, take center stage in my present cluster of entries under the general
heading Poplavsky The Drowning Uncle.
In his fight with Bulgarin, A. S. Pushkin wrote down
the plot of his novel without writing the novel itself. The Real Vyzhigin: A
Historical-Moral-Satirical Novel of the 19th Century.
The novel was supposed to have 18 chapters. In this
chapter I am mostly interested in Chapter 13, which Pushkin outlines like this:
Chapter XIII. Vyzhigin’s Wedding. Poor Nephew! What an Uncle!
In the 18th chapter of Master and Margarita: The Hapless Visitors, Bulgakov introduces a
new personage: Maximilian Andreevich Poplavsky. Calling Poplavsky Berlioz’s uncle,
Bulgakov picks up the joke undeveloped by Pushkin, and also indicates that the
author of this joke, A. S, Pushkin, is present in this novel.
As always, M. A. Bulgakov does not wish his personage
to be too obvious. In this chapter we find the very much convoluted story of
Maximilian Andreevich Poplavsky.
In this chapter I am unraveling only a part of the
ball of yarn. The other part will be unraveled in my chapter The Veiled Guests at Satan’s Great Ball.
Some of the funniest scenes in Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita are tied to
Poplavsky. However the actual events behind these scenes are by no means funny.
As the reader may remember, Maximilian Andreevich
Poplavsky comes to Moscow because of Woland’s telegram informing him of the
demise of his nephew M. A. Berlioz. Having foretold Berlioz’s death, Woland
reminds Berlioz about his “uncle in Kiev.”
More about this later.
The “surprising telegram” stated:
“I’ve just been slaughtered by a tram on
Patriarch Ponds. Funeral Friday, three o’clock in the afternoon. Come.
Berlioz.”
Remaining “the sole heir of the late Berlioz,”
Poplavsky comes to Moscow “to be registered as a tenant in the three rooms
previously occupied by his nephew.” This is the reason why Bulgakov calls him
“economist-planner.” Having rung the bell of the “no-good apartment #50,”
Poplavsky enters the anteroom where he is met by “an enormous black cat sitting
on a chair,” as well as by Koroviev coming out of the study. The scene played
out by Koroviev in front of Poplavsky corresponds to the scene which Bulgakov
creates with the help of Azazello and the fried chicken out of Poplavsky’s
suitcase.
“Crushed
by a tram? – asked Poplavsky in a whisper.
Cleanly!..
I was a witness. Can you believe it? Now, head – off! Right leg – crunch! –in
half! Left leg – crunch! – in half! This is where these trams are leading us
to!
And apparently unable to contain himself,
Koroviev sniffled into the wall close by the mirror and burst into violent
sobbing.”
The reader already knows from earlier in this chapter
that the “tram” in Bulgakov signifies human life In this, Bulgakov follows the
amazing Russian poet N. S. Gumilev, who wrote the incredible poem The Tram That Lost Its Way. This
information is essential to the story of Poplavsky.
Poplavsky entered the “no-good apartment #50” by
himself but was taken out of it by Azazello, called in by Kot Begemot:
“Azazello, see [the
gentleman] out! – yelled the cat and left the anteroom.
Poplavsky! – softly snuffled the newcomer [Azazello]. –
I hope it’s all clear now?
With one hand Azazello picked up [Poplavsky’s] suitcase, with the
other hand he pushed the door open and, having taken Berlioz’s uncle under the
arm, led him out onto the stair landing. Poplavsky pressed himself against the
wall. Without any key, Azazello unlocked the suitcase, took out a huge fried
chicken with one leg missing, wrapped in a newspaper glued to it, and put it
down on the landing. Then he pulled out two changes of underwear, a razor belt,
some book [sic!], and a case [containing something], and he pushed all these
items with his foot down the staircase shaft, all except the chicken. The
emptied suitcase went next the same way. One could hear how it hit the floor
downstairs, and judging by the sound, its lid separated from the rest of it.
This is how it is in Koroviev’s account:
“...As
I recall: the wheel across the leg… The wheel alone weighs some ten poods…
Crunch!”
“...Next, the red-haired ruffian picked the chicken by the leg and
hit Poplavsky’s neck flat with it, so violently and horrifically that the
chicken’s torso bounced and flew off, while the leg remained in Azazello’s
hand…”
So far, the researcher must be at a loss. The only
thing he can learn from the passage above is the title of the book formerly
inside Poplavsky’s suitcase. Bulgakov writes:
“Everything
was in confusion in the Oblonsky home, as was so fairly expressed by the
celebrated writer Leo Tolstoy.”
The two names used by Bulgakov easily point to
Tolstoy’s novel Anna Karenina,
suggesting the possibility of a love affair on the part of M. A. Poplavsky
himself. But how can we find out who his prototype may be? Judging by the way
Bulgakov describes Poplavsky, the man must be cowardly, to say the least.
Judging by the fact that on his arrival in Moscow
Poplavsky is meeting with personages whose prototypes are dead Russian poets,
his prototype is most likely a Russian poet, a contemporary of Berlioz.
There is always a reason in what Bulgakov tells us.
The narrow room with a poster on the wall, depicting in several pictures the
ways of reviving victims of drowning in the river is no exception.
I already wrote that according to Marina Tsvetaeva’s
memoirs, “the place wherefrom [poetry] is recited is
the bottom of the seas. The poet who recites is the drowned (or drowning)…”
“Poetry,” according to Tsvetaeva, is a “river.”
To be continued…
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