13-17 (Golden Horseshoe)

From the reader’s first introduction to the Master in Chapter 13, I couldn’t help but notice how normal he seems. Aside from whispering “‘Tsss!’” upon his entrance by balcony, he is a relatively sane man. He is of “about thirty-eight, clean-shaven, dark-haired, with a pointed nose, anxious eyes and a lock of hair hanging over his forehead” (148). If the strangest component of his appearance is this displaced lock of hair, compared to other characters; such as Woland with his dual appearances, Behemoth the cat, Koroviev and his patchiness, Azazello with his one fang, and the naked red-head; the Master looks just like an average man. I have categorized the Master with the Devil’s retinue and not the Russian citizens with which they interact. This is because when the reader first meets him, the Master offers his life story, like Woland. Although Woland did not do this—wouldn’t it be shocking if he had?—he did tell a tale. Perhaps storytelling provides some sort of authority; if you tell people a convincing story they are likely to believe. I immediately saw the similarities between this author, the Master, and Bulgakov. The Master, like Bulgakov, was not well received by his critics and after writing a story about Pontius Pilate, throws his manuscript in the fire as did Bulgakov with his first draft of The Master and Margarita (163 and viii). Perhaps it is because the Master seems so similar to the creator of the larger story, the novel itself, that I view him with as much esteem as the Devil himself. Nevertheless, I also see the Master as someone quite normal.

I am hesitant to discuss the role of the Devil and God in this novel because I don’t have any conclusive evidence off which to base an assertion. In previous classes, many of us have, like Ivan, declared of God or the Devil “‘but it cannot be! He does not exist!’” or vice versa, but I feel ready to accept whatever Bulgakov throws at us (152). If he says the sky is green and the grass blue I will believe him. I am, however, a little worried that he will say one thing and mean another. Which, some might argue, has been occurring since the very get-go of the novel. For now, I don’t feel as if there is anything conclusive of which to make a claim.

As for the reappearing naked red-head, I had honestly not considered her to be a vampire for more than a fraction of an instant. Could I have dismissed the notion too quickly? Of course. But do I fully believe that because she kisses Varenukha and he becomes pale, covers his neck, and avoids the light that they are both vampires? No. Vampires have had no part in the novel up to this point, and I sincerely hope it remains that way. I would much prefer the woman to be some other sort of evil, like the comic character Poison Ivy or the creepy dead lady from The Shining.
-Golden Horseshoe