The Master and Margarita [Anglais] [Broché]

I suppose that I can start by saying that "The Master and Margarita" has been my favorite book for over 7 years now (that says a lot since I read quite a bit!). I don't think it is necessary to discuss the plot of the book, since you can read what the book is about by looking at the editorial reviews. However, I will comment on the various translations.

Without a doubt, the book in the original Russian is incomparable, but if you don't read Russian I would recommend the Burgin/Tiernan O'Connor translation. The first translation I ever read was Mirra Ginsburg's - although it is very charming and enjoyable, certain bits of conversation as well as almost an entire chapter are omitted from this translation. I have also read parts of Michael Glenny's translation, and I don't feel that his translation accurately relays the depth, rhythm and richness of Bulgakov's style. Burgin/Tiernan O'Connor has given the most complete and accurate translation of this work. Another superb feature of this translation is the commentary section at the end of the text, which is very helpful in understanding what influenced Bulgakov, and is especially helpful if the reader is not familiar with certain aspects of Soviet culture while the book was written (during the 1930's).

Lastly, I have to comment on the thing that I love most about "The Master and Margarita" - it is impossible to classify this book as one certain genre. This book is a philosophical and religious novel, an historical novel, a satire, a love story, an action/adventure, and a fantasy all rolled into one. Simply put, it is timeless - an original, brilliant and beautiful novel.

This novel belongs in its own category, for there has never been another like it. A really great novel is like a best friend. We love to see them praised and are hurt when they are attacked. I am elated to see that so many Amazon readers share my love for this great work. I have been reticent to write a critique, as I really can't do it justice. Words are too meager a medium to convey my true response to this masterpiece. Suffice it to say that this has long been my first recommendation whenever anyone approached me about books I most enjoyed. Now with the appearance of Diana Burgin's and Katherine O'Connor's superb translation, I can recommend it even more unreservedly. I've read the Ginsburg and Glenny translations, as well, and have to agree with the other reviewers here who take exception to them. I haven't read the Pevear and Volokhonsky translation, but haven't been too excited by their work with Dostoevsky, so will probably skip it. I envy those who can read Bulgakov and other Russian masters in the original language, but I make do with finding the best translation I can and pay heed to what native speakers have to say about the various translations. I haven't heard any negatives about Burgin's and O'Connor's efforts. The volume also contains some useful annotation, particularly helpful if you are unfamiliar with the era and with the layout of Moscow. There are also some great Bulgakov sights on the net that have detailed maps of 30's-era Moscow, for those interested in getting a clearer mental picture of the sites Bulgakov describes (Patriarchs Pond, The Aryat, etc.). As far as placing Bulgakov in the Pantheon of Russian novelists, this novel alone propels him to the front ranks. Some of his other works, most notably Heart of a Dog and White Guard have not been adequately translated yet, so it is difficult to assess them. If you are a Pasternak fan (which I am not) you will probably enjoy White Guard, however. It is not satire, though, which in my estimation is Bulgakov's strong suit. Nor is there much humor there (at which he also excels in M&M). In fact I would be hard-pressed to come up with any other work in any literature that is as scathingly humorous and dead-on-target satirical as M&M. Burgess and Vonnegut are rungs below Bulgakov in either category. Bulgakov skewers every Moscow bureaucrat and literary hack (unfortunately in the Stalinist era most of those who maintained positions of authority in literary circles were obsequious no-talents who mouthed party-line propaganda) that ever did him harm (and these were legion). Yet there is not an ounce of vitriol involved in the skewering, which is remarkable in itself. Bulgakov had to be one of the most good-natured people ever to pick up a pen. That is the overall impression one gleans from the accounts of his contemporaries and it is evident throughout this book. Yes, stupid people behave stupidly and predictably

(Annushka is Annushka ! ) but in most cases the divine forces at work here let them off the hook. If you haven't been convinced by all these testimonials to give this novel a try, I am probably wasting space here anyway. This novel is the reason I go on reading. I hope someday to come across another like it. There aren't enough stars in the Amazon galaxy to do it justice.

"The Master and Margarita," Mikhail Bulgakov's sparkling fantasy of Satan's visit to Moscow under the guise of a magician named Professor Woland, must rank as one of the greatest acts of literary heroism of the past century. Bulgakov wrote the novel in the late 1930s, under what was arguably the most repressive government ever on earth--the Soviet Union at the height of Stalin's power. When even the mildest criticism of the regime led to a death sentence, Bulgakov dared to place all the cruelty, venality and treachery of 1930s Russia under a microscope. The book was of course unpublishable in Bulgakov's lifetime; it only appeared in its original form nearly a half-century after the author's death. We can chuckle at the wicked tricks Woland and his retinue play on various arrogant, incompetent Soviet officials, but knowledge of the power wielded by the real-life counterparts of those officials gives the chuckles a grim undertone indeed. The titular characters don't even appear until the book is nearly half-over: the Master, a despondent writer sent to an asylum after his novel about Pontius Pilate is rejected by the Soviet writers' union, and Margarita, the beautiful woman who loves him and will literally go to Hell for his sake. Through their dealings with Woland, Bulgakov exalts the power of the imagination, the need for the spiritual dimension in life and the courage to live by one's own convictions--virtues that Stalinist Russia strove, mostly successfully, to undermine. Interspersed with the tale of Woland, the Master and Margarita are chapters from the Master's novel, depicting Pontius Pilate's dealings on the day of the Crucifixion with Yeshua Ha-Notsri (Jesus of Nazareth), Levi Matvei (St. Matthew) and Judas of Kerioth (Iscariot). The leading theme of those chapters is the essential nature of humankind: are people good, as Yeshua argues, or bad, as Pilate does? Bulgakov never answers this question, and Christian fundamentalists will be outraged to find Levi Matvei and Woland at the end to be allies, albeit uneasy ones. But in the Stalinist moral vacuum that denied the existence of both Heaven and Hell, how could they avoid working together? Bulgakov insists that people have moral choices, and that the greatest evil comes from abdicating those choices, as Stalin not only encouraged but demanded. The Vintage International edition of "The Master and Margarita" benefits mightily from the idiomatic, easily flowing English translation by Diana Burgin and Katherine Tiernan O'Connor, and the afterword by Bulgakov biographer Ellendea Proffer provides invaluable information, from the standpoint of both the societal context and Bulgakov's own life history.