The Master and Margarita / Death in Venice

The Master and Margarita

Mikhail Bulgakov (trans. by Burgin & O’Conner)

I’m obsessed with being completely unspoiled about a book once I have made a commitment to reading it. This includes avoiding the back cover or inside flap until I am at least two-thirds of the way through. Since I knew I was going to read The Master and Margarita as part of this project I did no research whatsoever on it. I knew only that it was Russian, obviously, and I had a faint idea that it was written in the 1930’s. Otherwise I approached it as a completely blank slate.

I’ll extend the same courtesy to others and not describe the plot, even though I realize I’m an extremist in this regard. I will instead say this: The Master and Margarita is among the most moving, fantastical, dark and savagely funny novels I have ever read. I finished it before bed, thought about it for an hour, slept, woke up and re-read the haunting and beautiful conclusion the next morning.

I may not have felt this way if I hadn’t been “forced” to read it. The early chapters are disorienting and erratic, and if I had been reading casually I might have set it aside. That would have been a tragedy. This is a truly great work.

Death in Venice

Thomas Mann (trans. by Heim)

The Master and Margarita translation is in contemporary English, with crisp, conversational language. It was a real bummer to shift right into Death in Venice with its languid, overripe, high-falutin’ prose. Sure, I realize that it’s meant to evoke Italy and cholera and Greek tragedy and a gradual descent into idleness and debauchery. Maybe it was just the wrong time to read it (the book was listed for March). Luckily it’s short. I’m happy to move on.