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Sass Perilla (36 KP) rated The Master and Margarita in Books
Aug 9, 2019
Worth a read? Yes. Worth a reread? Maybe not.
Contains spoilers, click to show
The Master and Magarita: Mikhail Bulgakov
Firstly, I didn’t intend to write an essay on this novel. However, once started I found I had a lot to say, and the more I thought about the plot and characters, the more ideas and parallels were sparked, so I am hopeful that the verbosity of this review can be forgiven.
At the risk of sounding both ignorant and uncultured, I found this novel (at least at first) bloody hard slog; not least because the Russian characters have three names, plus a nickname, plus a pun on their name (none of which work particularly well in translation and all of which sound rather similar to the English untrained ear). As an example- Ivan Nikolaevich Ponyrev (who seems to be referred to by any and all of these names) is also known as “Homeless” and “the poet” is a key character in the opening section of the novel. To further demonstrate: there are 17 different names that start with A that are used to refer to 15 different characters with Andreyevich used as the middle name of a bereaved uncle, who makes a journey from Kiev after his nephew is beheaded in a freak tram accident- and Andrey the buffet manager at a Moscow theatre. Clear as mud right? And that is before starting on similarly named characters with the initials M, P, L and S! At my last count there were 45 distinct characters, and I am fairly sure there will be some that I have missed. Hence, I did a lot of re-reading to work out exactly who was doing what to whom.
Additionally, I would suggest you need to be wary of the different translations. The distinct changes in meaning are subtle but important. To triangulate I had three versions at my disposal: Hugh Aplin’s translation (available for free on Kindle), the audiobook version translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky (which I listened to simultaneously when reading the book to come to my own interpretation, and the subtitles for the Russian TV miniseries from 2005 when I gave up trying to work out who was who from name alone!
So those were my “technical” issues (if you like) with engaging with this novel, and this lack of clarity and understanding (and my own lack of contextual knowledge of Stalinist Russia) meant I missed many of the (what I am sure are hysterically funny to those in the know) satirical jokes in the opening section. That said, the random action and quick changes of focus, undercurrent of chaos in Moscow despite entrenched hierarchal structures and clear threat that (any) one could go missing at any time, for an unclear reason gave a clear insight into the mind and fears of a 1930s Russian citizen. No wonder it was available only in censored form for so long.
Despite these hardships, there were some genuinely laugh out loud moments in the first Moscow based part of the novel. The citizens have not lost their individuality, as they scrabble and fight for bank notes in the theatre, which are later revealed to be worthless. Nor have they lost their sense of pride and vanity, which we see in the female theatre goers, so desperate to attain the fashionable French couture (which later literally disappears from their bodies leaving semi-naked citizenesses desperately trying to cover themselves in a scene reminiscent of “Allo Allo” meets “Benny Hill”). When Professor Woland says his show will “expose” what the locals have failed to realise is that it is their (moral) shortcomings that are about to be revealed. The message is clearly, that no government can successfully legislate against human nature.
Oooh- and another fun fact, apparently Woland (later revealed- or perhaps is implied- to be Satan) was the inspiration to the Rolling Stones 1968 hit “Sympathy for the Devil”, well at least that is what my Google-Fu tells me.
Obviously, there were substantial hurdles to leap, however, I found by the second half of the novel, when we finally meet the eponymous characters, I had got in to the swing of things and begun to embrace the farcical surrealism of the novel.
The second “book” marks a change in tone, although it continues to cut away to scenes of Jesus’ sentencing by Pilate and execution (here known in the Aramaic form Yeshua). Ironically it is these scenes that are the most “real” and substantially human, as Pilate’s decision weighs head achingly heavily on him throughout. The Master and Margarita seem to be the only two characters fully invested in the authenticity of literature, and serve as a counterpoint to the heavily censored “monstrous” writing of Ivan and the rest of the writers’ union Massolit, more interested in fine dining and what their positions can do for them then the production of quality writing.
And it is Margarita’s journey of discovery and liberation from the stodgy, miserable societal expectations of that leads her back to her Master. Bulgakov mixes classical myth, Russian folklore and Bible stories to give us an impression of the timelessness of the central romance. As the worlds of communist Moscow and the inner worlds of the Master and Margarita collide, we are informed of the former’s desire to excuse all magic (and mischief) as the product of mass hypnosis, when the latter (and the reader) are fully aware of the spiritual significance and dimension of the events.
Clever, astute and in places laugh out loud funny, this novel none-the-less requires a level of dedication from the non-Russian speaking reader. Worth a read? Yes. Worth a re-read? Maybe not.
Firstly, I didn’t intend to write an essay on this novel. However, once started I found I had a lot to say, and the more I thought about the plot and characters, the more ideas and parallels were sparked, so I am hopeful that the verbosity of this review can be forgiven.
At the risk of sounding both ignorant and uncultured, I found this novel (at least at first) bloody hard slog; not least because the Russian characters have three names, plus a nickname, plus a pun on their name (none of which work particularly well in translation and all of which sound rather similar to the English untrained ear). As an example- Ivan Nikolaevich Ponyrev (who seems to be referred to by any and all of these names) is also known as “Homeless” and “the poet” is a key character in the opening section of the novel. To further demonstrate: there are 17 different names that start with A that are used to refer to 15 different characters with Andreyevich used as the middle name of a bereaved uncle, who makes a journey from Kiev after his nephew is beheaded in a freak tram accident- and Andrey the buffet manager at a Moscow theatre. Clear as mud right? And that is before starting on similarly named characters with the initials M, P, L and S! At my last count there were 45 distinct characters, and I am fairly sure there will be some that I have missed. Hence, I did a lot of re-reading to work out exactly who was doing what to whom.
Additionally, I would suggest you need to be wary of the different translations. The distinct changes in meaning are subtle but important. To triangulate I had three versions at my disposal: Hugh Aplin’s translation (available for free on Kindle), the audiobook version translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky (which I listened to simultaneously when reading the book to come to my own interpretation, and the subtitles for the Russian TV miniseries from 2005 when I gave up trying to work out who was who from name alone!
So those were my “technical” issues (if you like) with engaging with this novel, and this lack of clarity and understanding (and my own lack of contextual knowledge of Stalinist Russia) meant I missed many of the (what I am sure are hysterically funny to those in the know) satirical jokes in the opening section. That said, the random action and quick changes of focus, undercurrent of chaos in Moscow despite entrenched hierarchal structures and clear threat that (any) one could go missing at any time, for an unclear reason gave a clear insight into the mind and fears of a 1930s Russian citizen. No wonder it was available only in censored form for so long.
Despite these hardships, there were some genuinely laugh out loud moments in the first Moscow based part of the novel. The citizens have not lost their individuality, as they scrabble and fight for bank notes in the theatre, which are later revealed to be worthless. Nor have they lost their sense of pride and vanity, which we see in the female theatre goers, so desperate to attain the fashionable French couture (which later literally disappears from their bodies leaving semi-naked citizenesses desperately trying to cover themselves in a scene reminiscent of “Allo Allo” meets “Benny Hill”). When Professor Woland says his show will “expose” what the locals have failed to realise is that it is their (moral) shortcomings that are about to be revealed. The message is clearly, that no government can successfully legislate against human nature.
Oooh- and another fun fact, apparently Woland (later revealed- or perhaps is implied- to be Satan) was the inspiration to the Rolling Stones 1968 hit “Sympathy for the Devil”, well at least that is what my Google-Fu tells me.
Obviously, there were substantial hurdles to leap, however, I found by the second half of the novel, when we finally meet the eponymous characters, I had got in to the swing of things and begun to embrace the farcical surrealism of the novel.
The second “book” marks a change in tone, although it continues to cut away to scenes of Jesus’ sentencing by Pilate and execution (here known in the Aramaic form Yeshua). Ironically it is these scenes that are the most “real” and substantially human, as Pilate’s decision weighs head achingly heavily on him throughout. The Master and Margarita seem to be the only two characters fully invested in the authenticity of literature, and serve as a counterpoint to the heavily censored “monstrous” writing of Ivan and the rest of the writers’ union Massolit, more interested in fine dining and what their positions can do for them then the production of quality writing.
And it is Margarita’s journey of discovery and liberation from the stodgy, miserable societal expectations of that leads her back to her Master. Bulgakov mixes classical myth, Russian folklore and Bible stories to give us an impression of the timelessness of the central romance. As the worlds of communist Moscow and the inner worlds of the Master and Margarita collide, we are informed of the former’s desire to excuse all magic (and mischief) as the product of mass hypnosis, when the latter (and the reader) are fully aware of the spiritual significance and dimension of the events.
Clever, astute and in places laugh out loud funny, this novel none-the-less requires a level of dedication from the non-Russian speaking reader. Worth a read? Yes. Worth a re-read? Maybe not.
Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated The Lighthouse (2019) in Movies
Jan 22, 2021
Robert Eggers made a striking introduction for himself in 2015 with the moody and disconcerting The Witch, bringing a future star to the world’s attention in Anya Taylor-Joy in the process. You could argue after seeing his sophomore effort, The Lighthouse, that in terms of creating deliberately nauseating landscapes his work is the third cog in the arthouse revival of intellectual “horror”, after Ari Aster (Hereditary / Midsommar) and Jordan Peele (Get Out / Us). The group actually sits quite well together, as there is an obvious social commentary by metaphor crossover going on here, as well as just a little bit of “crazy”.
The point of difference up front with Eggars seems to be an earthiness. He likes dirt, and straw and rain and holes in the ground, and a sense of temperature in a scene (usually very cold). He also loves to frame an image and hold it there simply for the bizarre beauty of it, much as David Lynch has done unapologetically and without explanation his whole career.
As perfect as Tayor-Joy was in The Witch for her innocent otherworldly qualities, so Willem Dafoe is also as a craggy, sweaty-toothed old man of the sea in this. Whatever else you take, or don’t take from The Lighthouse, it is hard to deny the absolute cinematic purity of Dafoe’s face! It alone will guarantee this film’s cult status (and his) forever. And I do mean forever; the very best images of this film are worthy to be frozen, framed and wondered at alongside the most enduring black and white iconography in the entire history of the art form. And most often the best images involve Dafoe.
He is just so damn interesting to look at, all the time, no matter what. His range as an actor over the years just gets more and more impressive the more you think about it. He is capable of being heartbreakingly vulnerable and tender, but can also be terrifying on demand. His streak of dark humour can not be underestimated either – consider the genius of his introduction here, where the simple touch of his pipe being upside down tells you everything you need to know about this man and where this film is going.
Except, we don’t know where it is going. Ever. It is a very odd experience in terms of a satisfying narrative. It never seems to settle or fit into a genre comfortably, which is fine if all elements sublimate magically, but I don’t think they quite do. Is it a horror, a comedy, a psychological thriller, a study of loneliness and isolation, a metaphor for… something? The closest I can get is to say it is as if Lynch remade Young Frankenstein with just Igor and Dr Frankenstein, at a lighthouse, but forgot to make it funny or cohere into a real story. Of course, the things that I am reaching for as shortcomings may be exactly what others see as strengths. There is something to be said for being taken on a journey you can’t define or easily explain.
Quite often on this journey we are teased and fed details that seem to go nowhere, and avenues that may have proved interesting to explore are closed with a bang, in favour of another drinking scene and another fight – which are great the first few times, but become repetitive to a baffling degree later on. Mythology and dreams of the sea are played with, but also not fully approached; we are only given brief flashes of Mermaids and Krakens, nightmares and visions only, before returning to the mundanity and drudgery of the job of a lighthouse keeper. You are often left wondering who is going more mad, the men in the film or you watching it. I definitely recommend the best way to watch this is a little or a lot drunk, very late at night… it demands it, somehow.
It is difficult for all these reasons to say with any true certainty then, after just one viewing, if I think it is any good… I don’t know yet, I will have to watch it again some time to find out, is my best answer. For sure the photography is 100% first rate and instantly unforgettable – Jarin Blaschke was deservedly Oscar nominated for the extremely fine work – and the design and feel of the whole thing is quite masterful. I really want to like it more than I do, and perhaps if I was still in my wide-eyed twenties I would be enthusing about it endlessly, but now… I can see a touch of the Emperor’s new clothes about it, so am cautious of praising it too much.
One other element that is impressive, however, that I have yet to touch on, is the continued rise of Mr Robert Pattinson as an actor of serious note. As I have already touched on recently in other reviews, I did not see this coming, that it would be him that I was naming as one of the most promising talents of his age group working in film today! But you just can’t deny his versatility and understanding of genre and character. He puts in another very solid effort here, full of interesting choices and nuance; he is certainly an exciting prospect for the decade ahead.
In summary. See it. Unless you absolutely hate things that don’t tie the strings up nice and neatly, and decide for yourself. Some people will hate it, and I get that. It is a film-lovers film, for sure. Mesmerising and Meticulous, as one critic put it. Admire it for the craft involved, and experience it with an open mind. Just don’t go in expecting traditional horror, or traditional drama, or traditional comedy, or even traditional surrealism… The Lighthouse, for all it’s debatable flaws is unique! I suggest you let it be that way by not over-reaching to define it.
The point of difference up front with Eggars seems to be an earthiness. He likes dirt, and straw and rain and holes in the ground, and a sense of temperature in a scene (usually very cold). He also loves to frame an image and hold it there simply for the bizarre beauty of it, much as David Lynch has done unapologetically and without explanation his whole career.
As perfect as Tayor-Joy was in The Witch for her innocent otherworldly qualities, so Willem Dafoe is also as a craggy, sweaty-toothed old man of the sea in this. Whatever else you take, or don’t take from The Lighthouse, it is hard to deny the absolute cinematic purity of Dafoe’s face! It alone will guarantee this film’s cult status (and his) forever. And I do mean forever; the very best images of this film are worthy to be frozen, framed and wondered at alongside the most enduring black and white iconography in the entire history of the art form. And most often the best images involve Dafoe.
He is just so damn interesting to look at, all the time, no matter what. His range as an actor over the years just gets more and more impressive the more you think about it. He is capable of being heartbreakingly vulnerable and tender, but can also be terrifying on demand. His streak of dark humour can not be underestimated either – consider the genius of his introduction here, where the simple touch of his pipe being upside down tells you everything you need to know about this man and where this film is going.
Except, we don’t know where it is going. Ever. It is a very odd experience in terms of a satisfying narrative. It never seems to settle or fit into a genre comfortably, which is fine if all elements sublimate magically, but I don’t think they quite do. Is it a horror, a comedy, a psychological thriller, a study of loneliness and isolation, a metaphor for… something? The closest I can get is to say it is as if Lynch remade Young Frankenstein with just Igor and Dr Frankenstein, at a lighthouse, but forgot to make it funny or cohere into a real story. Of course, the things that I am reaching for as shortcomings may be exactly what others see as strengths. There is something to be said for being taken on a journey you can’t define or easily explain.
Quite often on this journey we are teased and fed details that seem to go nowhere, and avenues that may have proved interesting to explore are closed with a bang, in favour of another drinking scene and another fight – which are great the first few times, but become repetitive to a baffling degree later on. Mythology and dreams of the sea are played with, but also not fully approached; we are only given brief flashes of Mermaids and Krakens, nightmares and visions only, before returning to the mundanity and drudgery of the job of a lighthouse keeper. You are often left wondering who is going more mad, the men in the film or you watching it. I definitely recommend the best way to watch this is a little or a lot drunk, very late at night… it demands it, somehow.
It is difficult for all these reasons to say with any true certainty then, after just one viewing, if I think it is any good… I don’t know yet, I will have to watch it again some time to find out, is my best answer. For sure the photography is 100% first rate and instantly unforgettable – Jarin Blaschke was deservedly Oscar nominated for the extremely fine work – and the design and feel of the whole thing is quite masterful. I really want to like it more than I do, and perhaps if I was still in my wide-eyed twenties I would be enthusing about it endlessly, but now… I can see a touch of the Emperor’s new clothes about it, so am cautious of praising it too much.
One other element that is impressive, however, that I have yet to touch on, is the continued rise of Mr Robert Pattinson as an actor of serious note. As I have already touched on recently in other reviews, I did not see this coming, that it would be him that I was naming as one of the most promising talents of his age group working in film today! But you just can’t deny his versatility and understanding of genre and character. He puts in another very solid effort here, full of interesting choices and nuance; he is certainly an exciting prospect for the decade ahead.
In summary. See it. Unless you absolutely hate things that don’t tie the strings up nice and neatly, and decide for yourself. Some people will hate it, and I get that. It is a film-lovers film, for sure. Mesmerising and Meticulous, as one critic put it. Admire it for the craft involved, and experience it with an open mind. Just don’t go in expecting traditional horror, or traditional drama, or traditional comedy, or even traditional surrealism… The Lighthouse, for all it’s debatable flaws is unique! I suggest you let it be that way by not over-reaching to define it.