to hypnotize at an enormous distance, and not only
individual persons but even whole groups of them.
     Under these circumstances, the criminals  were able to  drive people of
the  sturdiest psychic  make-up out  of their minds. To say  nothing of such
trifles as the pack  of cards in the  pocket  of someone in  the stalls, the
women's disappearing dresses, or the miaowing beret, or other things of that
sort! Such  stunts can be  pulled  by any professional hypnotist of  average
ability on any  stage, including the uncomplicated trick of tearing the head
off  the master of ceremonies. The talking  cat  was also sheer nonsense. To
present people with such a cat, it is enough to have a command  of the basic
principles of ventriloquism, and scarcely anyone will doubt that  Koroviev's
art went significantly beyond those principles.
     Yes, the  point here lay not  at all  in  packs of  cards, or the false
letters in Nikanor Ivanovich's briefcase! These were all trifles! It was he,
Koroviev, who  had sent  Berlioz to certain death under the tram-car. It was
he who had driven the poor  poet Ivan Homeless  crazy, he  who  had made him
have visions, see ancient Yershalaim in tormenting dreams, and sun-scorched,
waterless Bald Mountain with three men hanging on posts.  It was he  and his
gang who had made Margarita Nikolaevna and her housekeeper Natasha disappear
from Moscow.  Incidentally, the  investigation  considered this  matter with
special attention. It had to find out if the two women had been  abducted by
the  gang of  murderers  and  arsonists or  had  fled voluntarily  with  the
criminal  company. On the  basis of  the  absurd and  incoherent evidence of
Nikolai  Ivanovich,  and considering the  strange and insane  note Margarita
Nikolaevna had left for  her husband,  the note in which she wrote that  she
had gone off to become a witch, as well as the circumstance that Natasha had
disappeared leaving all her clothes behind, the investigation concluded that
both mistress and housekeeper, like many  others, had  been  hypnotized, and
had  thus been abducted  by the band. There also emerged  the probably quite
correct thought that  the criminals had  been attracted by the beauty of the
two women.
     Yet what  remained completely unclear  to  the  investigation  was  the
gang's motive in abducting the mental patient who  called himself the master
from  the psychiatric clinic. This they never succeeded in establishing, nor
did they succeed in obtaining the abducted man's last name. Thus he vanished
for  ever  under  the dead alias  of  number  one-eighteen  from  the  first
building.
     And so, almost everything was explained,  and the investigation came to
an end, as everything generally comes to an end.
     Several years passed, and the citizens began to forget Woland, Koroviev
and the rest.  Many changes took  place  in  the lives of those who suffered
from Woland and  his  company, and however  trifling and insignificant those
changes are, they still ought to be noted.
     Georges Bengalsky,  for instance,  after  spending  three months in the
clinic, recovered  and left it, but had  to give up his work at the Variety,
and that at the hottest time, when the  public  was flocking  after tickets:
the memory of black magic and its exposure proved very tenacious.
     Bengalsky  left the  Variety, for  he understood that  to appear  every
night before two thousand people, to  be inevitably recognized and endlessly
subjected to  jeering questions of  how he liked it better, with  or without
his head, was much too painful.
     And,  besides that,  the master of ceremonies  had lost  a considerable
dose of  his gaiety, which is  so  necessary in his profession. He  remained
with  the unpleasant, burdensome habit of falling, every  spring  during the
full  moon, into a state  of anxiety,  suddenly clutching his  neck, looking
around fearfully and weeping. These fits would pass, but all the same, since
he had them,  he  could not continue in his  former occupation, and  so  the
master of ceremonies retired  and  started living  on his savings, which, by
his modest reckoning, were enough to last him fifteen years.
     He left  and  never  again  met  Varenukha,  who  has gained  universal
popularity and affection  by  his  responsiveness and politeness, incredible
even  among  theatre  administrators. The  free-pass seekers, for  instance,
never refer to him otherwise  than  as father-benefactor. One  can  call the
Variety at any time and always hear in the receiver a soft but sad voice:
     `May  I help you?' And to the  request that Varenukha be  called to the
phone,  the same voice hastens to  answer:  'At your  service.' And, oh, how
Ivan Savelyevich has suffered from his own politeness!
     Styopa  Likhodeev  was to talk no more  over the phone at  the Variety.
Immediately after  his release from  the clinic, where he spent  eight days,
Styopa  was transferred to  Rostov, taking up the position of manager  of  a
large  food  store.  Rumour has it that  he has stopped  drinking cheap wine
altogether  and drinks only vodka with blackcurrant buds, which has  greatly
improved his health.  They say he has become taciturn and  keeps  away  from
women.
     The removal of Stepan Bogdanovich from the Variety did not bring Rimsky
the  joy of which he had  been  so greedily dreaming over the  past  several
years.  After  the clinic  and Kislovodsk, old, old as  could  be,  his head
wagging,  the findirector  submitted  a request  to  be dismissed  from  the
Variety.  The  interesting thing  was that this request  was brought to  the
Variety by Rimsky's wife. Grigory Danilovich  himself  found it  beyond  his
strength to visit, even during  the daytime, the building where he had  seen
the  cracked  window-pane flooded with moonlight and the long arm making its
way to the lower latch.
     Having left the Variety, the findirector took a  job with  a children's
marionette theatre in Zamoskvorechye. In this  theatre he  no  longer had to
run  into the much-esteemed Arkady  Apollonovich  Semplevarov  on matters of
acoustics. The latter had been promptly transferred to Briansk and appointed
manager of  a mushroom  cannery. The Muscovites now eat  salted  and pickled
mushrooms and cannot praise them  enough, and  they rejoice exceedingly over
this  transfer. Since  it  is  a  bygone thing, we may now say  that  Arkady
Apollonovich's  relations with acoustics never worked out  very well, and as
they had been, so they remained, no matter how he tried to improve them.
     Among  persons  who have  broken  with the theatre,  apart from  Arkady
Apollonovich, mention should be made of Nikanor  Ivanovich Bosoy,  though he
had  been connected with the theatre  in  no other way  than by his love for
free tickets. Nikanor Ivanovich not only goes to no  sort of theatre, either
paying or free, but even changes countenance at any theatrical conversation.
     Besides  the theatre, he has come  to hate,  not to a lesser  but to  a
still  greater  degree,  the  poet  Pushkin  and  the  talented  actor  Sawa
Potapovich Kurolesov. The latter to  such a degree that  last year, seeing a
black-framed announcement in the newspaper that Sawa Potapovich had suffered
a stroke in the full bloom of his career, Nikanor Ivanovich turned so purple
that he almost followed  after  Sawa Potapovich, and  bellowed: `Serves  him
right!'
     Moreover, that same evening Nikanor Ivanovich, in whom the death of the
popular  actor had  evoked a great many painful memories, alone, in the sole
company of  the full moon shining on Sadovaya, got terribly drunk. And  with
each drink, the cursed line  of hateful figures got longer, and in this line
were  Dunchil, Sergei  Gerardovich, and  the beautiful Ida Herculanovna, and
that red-haired owner of fighting geese, and the candid Kanavkin, Nikolai.
     Well, and what  on  earth  happened  to them?  Good heavens!  Precisely
nothing  happened  to  them,  or could  happen,  since they  never  actually
existed, as that affable artiste, the  master of ceremonies, never  existed,
nor  the theatre itself, nor  that old  pinchfist of an aunt Porokhovnikova,
who kept currency  rotting in the cellar, and there certainly were no golden
trumpets  or impudent cooks. All this Nikanor Ivanovich merely dreamed under
the influence of the nasty Koroviev. The only living person to fly into this
dream was precisely  Sawa Potapovich, the actor,  and he got  mixed up in it
only  because  he  was ingrained in Nikanor Ivanovich's  memory owing to his
frequent performances on the radio. He existed, but the rest did not.
     So, maybe Aloisy Mogarych  did not exist  either?  Oh, no! He  not only
existed, but  he  exists even now  and precisely in  the  post given  up  by
Rimsky, that is, the post of findirector of the Variety.
     Coming to his senses about twenty-four hours after his visit to Woland,
on a  train somewhere near Vyatka, Aloisy  realized  that,  having for  some
reason left Moscow in a darkened state of mind, he  had forgotten to put  on
his  trousers,  but  instead  had  stolen,  with  an  unknown  purpose,  the
completely useless household  register of the builder. Paying a colossal sum
of money to the conductor, Aloisy  acquired from him  an old and greasy pair
of  pants,  and in Vyatka  he turned back. But, alas, he did  not  find  the
builder's little house. The decrepit trash had  been licked clean away by  a
fire. But Aloisy was an  extremely enterprising man. Two weeks later he  was
living  in a splendid room on Briusovsky Lane, and a few months later he was
sitting  in  Rimsky's  office. And  as Rimsky had  once suffered because  of
Styopa, so now Varenukha was tormented because of Aloisy. Ivan Savelyevich's
only dream  is that this  Aloisy  should be removed somewhere out of  sight,
because, as Varenukha sometimes whispers  in intimate company, he supposedly
has never  in his life met  'such  scum  as this Aloisy', and  he supposedly
expects anything you like from this Aloisy.
     However, the  administrator is perhaps prejudiced. Aloisy has not  been
known for any shady business, or for any business  at all, unless  of course
we count his appointing someone else to replace the barman Sokov. For Andrei
Fokich  died of liver cancer in the clinic of the First MSU some  ten months
after Woland's appearance in Moscow.
     Yes, several  years have passed, and the events truthfully described in
this book have healed over  and faded from memory. But not for everyone, not
for everyone.
     Each year, with the festal spring full moon,' a man of about  thirty or
thirty-odd  appears  towards  evening under the lindens  at the  Patriarch's
Ponds.  A  reddish-haired,  green-eyed,  modestly  dressed  man.  He  is   a
researcher  at the  Institute of  History  and  Philosophy,  Professor  Ivan
Nikolaevich Ponyrev.
     Coming under the lindens,  he  always  sits down on the  same  bench on
which he sat that evening when Berlioz, long forgotten by  all, saw the moon
breaking  to pieces  for the last  time in his life. Whole now, white at the
start of the evening, then gold with a dark horse-dragon, it floats over the
former poet Ivan  Nikolaevich and at the same  time stays  in  place at  its
height.
     Ivan  Nikolaevich  is  aware  of everything,  he knows  and understands
everything.  He  knows  that  as  a  young  man he fell  victim to  criminal
hypnotists  and  was  afterwards treated and cured.  But he also  knows that
there are things he cannot manage. He cannot manage this spring full moon.
     As  soon as it begins to approach, as  soon as the  luminary that  once
hung higher than the two five-branched candlesticks begins to swell and fill
with gold,  Ivan Nikolaevich becomes anxious, nervous, he loses appetite and
sleep, waiting till  the  moon ripens. And when the full moon comes, nothing
can keep Ivan Nikolaevich at home. Towards evening  he goes out and walks to
the Patriarch's Ponds.
     Sitting on the bench, Ivan Nikolaevich openly talks to himself, smokes,
squints now at the moon, now at the memorable turnstile.
     Ivan Nikolaevich spends an hour or  two like this. Then  he  leaves his
place and, always following the same itinerary, goes with empty and unseeing
eyes through Spiridonovka to the lanes of the Arbat.
     He passes  the kerosene shop, turns  by a  lopsided  old gaslight,  and
steals  up to a  fence, behind  which  he  sees  a luxuriant,  though as yet
unclothed, garden, and in it  a Gothic mansion, moon-washed on the side with
the triple bay window and dark on the other.
     The professor does not know what draws him to the fence or who lives in
the mansion, but he  does know that there is no fighting with himself on the
night of the full  moon. Besides,  he knows that he will inevitably see  one
and the same thing in the garden behind the fence.
     He will see an elderly and respectable man with a little beard, wearing
a pince-nez,  and with slightly piggish  features, sitting on a bench.  Ivan
Nikolaevich  always finds this resident  of  the mansion in one and the same
dreamy  pose,  his  eyes  turned towards the  moon.  It  is  known  to  Ivan
Nikolaevich that, after  admiring the moon, the seated man will  unfailingly
turn  his  gaze to the bay windows and fix it on them, as  if expecting that
they would presently be flung open and something extraordinary would  appear
on the  window-sill. The whole sequel Ivan Nikolaevich knows  by heart. Here
he must bury himself  deeper behind the fence,  for presently the seated man
will begin  to turn  his head restlessly, to snatch at  something in the air
with a wandering gaze, to smile rapturously, and then he will suddenly clasp
his hands in  a  sort of  sweet anguish,  and then he will murmur simply and
rather loudly:
     'Venus! Venus! ... Ah, fool that I am! ...'
     'Gods, gods!' Ivan Nikolaevich will begin to whisper, hiding behind the
fence  and never taking his kindling eyes off the mysterious stranger. 'Here
is one more of the moon's victims ... Yes, one more victim, like me...'
     And the seated man will go on talking:
     'Ah,  fool that I am! Why, why didn't I fly off with her? What were you
afraid of,  old  ass? Got yourself a  certificate! Ah,  suffer now,  you old
cretin! ...'
     It will go  on like this until a window in the dark part of the mansion
bangs, something whitish appears in it, and an unpleasant female voice rings
out:
     'Nikolai Ivanovich, where are you? What is this fantasy? Want  to catch
malaria? Come and have tea!'
     Here, of course,  the seated man will recover his senses and reply in a
lying voice:
     'I  wanted a  breath of  air,  a breath of  air, dearest! The air is so
nice! ...'
     And here he will get up from the  bench, shake his  fist on the sly  at
the closing ground-floor window, and trudge back to the house.
     'Lying, he's lying! Oh, gods, how he's lying!' Ivan Nikolaevich mutters
as he leaves the fence.  'It's not the air that draws him to the  garden, he
sees something at the  time  of this  spring full moon, in  the  garden,  up
there!  Ah, I'd pay dearly to  penetrate his mystery, to know who this Venus
is that he's lost and now fruitlessly feels for in the air, trying  to catch
her! ...'
     And the professor returns home completely ill. His wife pretends not to
notice his condition and urges him to go to bed. But she herself does not go
to bed and sits  by the lamp with a book, looking with grieving  eyes at the
sleeper. She knows that Ivan Nikolaevich will wake up at dawn with a painful
cry, will  begin  to  weep  and  thrash. Therefore there  lies  before  her,
prepared ahead of time,  on  the tablecloth,  under the lamp,  a  syringe in
alcohol and an ampoule of liquid the colour of dark tea.
     The poor woman, tied to a gravely ill  man, is now  free and  can sleep
without apprehensions. After the injection, Ivan Nikolaevich will sleep till
morning with  a blissful face, having sublime and blissful dreams unknown to
her.
     It is always one and the same thing that  awakens the scholar and draws
pitiful  cries  from  him  on  the night of  the  full  moon.  He  sees some
unnatural, noseless executioner who, leaping up and hooting somehow with his
voice, sticks his spear into the  heart of Gestas, who is tied to a post and
has gone insane. But it is not the executioner who is frightening so much as
the unnatural lighting in this dream, caused by  some dark cloud boiling and
heaving itself upon the earth, as happens only during world catastrophes.
     After  the  injection,  everything changes  before the sleeping man.  A
broad path of moonlight stretches from his bed to the window, and a man in a
white cloak with blood-red  lining gets on to this path  and begins to  walk
towards  the moon. Beside him walks a young man in a torn  chiton and with a
disfigured face. The walkers talk heatedly about something, they argue, they
want to reach some understanding.
     'Gods,  gods!' says that man in the cloak, turning his  haughty face to
his companion. `Such a banal execution!  But,  please,' here the  face turns
from haughty to imploring, `tell me it never happened!  I implore  you, tell
me, it never happened?'
     'Well, of course it never happened,' his companion  replies in a hoarse
voice, 'you imagined it.'
     'And you can swear it to me?' the man in the cloak asks ingratiatingly.
     `I  swear  it!' replies his companion,  and  his  eyes  smile  for some
reason.
     'I need nothing more!' the man in  the cloak exclaims  in a husky voice
and goes ever  higher towards  the moon, drawing his companion along. Behind
them a gigantic, sharp-eared dog walks calmly and majestically.
     Then the moonbeam boils up, a river of moonlight begins to gush from it
and  pours out in all directions. The moon rules and plays,  the moon dances
and  frolics. Then a woman of boundless beauty forms herself in the  stream,
and by the hand she leads out to Ivan a man overgrown with beard who glances
around  fearfully.  Ivan  Nikolaevich recognizes him at  once.  It is number
one-eighteen, his nocturnal guest. In his dream Ivan Nikolaevich reaches his
arms out to him and asks greedily:
     'So it ended with that?'
     'It  ended with  that, my disciple,' answers number  one-eighteen,  and
then the woman comes up to Ivan and says:
     'Of course, with that. Everything has ended, and everything ends... And
I  will kiss  you on  the  forehead, and everything with you  will be as  it
should be ...'
     She bends over  Ivan and kisses him  on the forehead,  and Ivan reaches
out to her and peers into her eyes, but she retreats, retreats, and together
with her companion goes towards the moon...
     Then  the moon begins to rage, it pours streams  of light down right on
Ivan, it sprays light in all directions, a flood  of moonlight  engulfs  the
room,  the light heaves, rises higher, drowns the bed. It is then that  Ivan
Nikolaevich sleeps with a blissful face.
     The  next  morning he wakes up silent  but perfecdy calm and  well. His
needled memory grows quiet, and until the next full moon no one will trouble
the professor - neither the noseless killer of Gestas,  nor the  cruel fifth
procurator of Judea, the equestrian Pontius Pilate.
     [1928--1940]



        NOTES


     Epigraph
     1. The epigraph  comes  from the scene entitled 'Faust's Study'  in the
first part of the drama Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1842). The
question is asked by Faust; the answer comes from the demon Mephistopheles.
     Book One
     Chapter1: Never Talk with Strangers
     1. the Patriarch's  Ponds: Bulgakov uses the old name for what in  1918
was  rechristened 'Pioneer Ponds'. Originally  these were  three ponds, only
one of  which  remains, on  the  place  where  Philaret,  eighteenth-century
patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church, had his residence.
     2. Berlioz: Bulgakov names  several of  his characters after composers.
In addition to Berlioz, there will be  the financial director Rimsky and the
psychiatrist Stravinsky. The efforts of critics to find some  meaning behind
this fact seem rather strained.
     3.  Massolit: An invented but plausible  contraction parodying the many
contractions introduced  in post-revolutionary Russia. There  will be others
further  on - Dramlit  House  (House for Dramatists  and Literary  Workers),
findirector (financial director), and so on.
     4. Homeless: In early versions of  the  novel, Bulgakov called his poet
Bezrodny  (Tastless'  or 'Familyless').  Many `proletarian' writers  adopted
such  pen-names,  the most famous being Alexei  Peshkov, who  called himself
Maxim  Gorky  (gorky meaning  'bitter').  Others called  themselves  Golodny
('Hungry'),  Besposhchadny  ('Merciless'),  Pribludny  ('Stray').  Worthy of
special  note  here is the  poet Efim  Pridvorov, who called  himself Demian
Bedny ('Poor'), author of violent anti-religious poems. It may have been the
reading of  Bedny that  originally  sparked Bulgakov's  impulse to write The
Master  and Margarita. In his Journal  of  1925 (the  so-called 'Confiscated
Journal' which turned up in the files of the KGB and was published in 1990),
Bulgakov noted:  'Jesus Christ is  presented as a scoundrel  and swindler...
There is no name for this crime.'
     5.  Kislovodsk:  Literally  `acid  waters',  a  popular resort  in  the
northern Caucasus, famous for its mineral springs.
     6. Philo of  Alexandria: (20  BC-AD  54),  Greek  philosopher of Jewish
origin,   a   biblical   exegete   and  theologian,   influenced  both   the
Neo-Platonists and early Christian thinkers.
     7. Flavius Josephus: (AD 57-100), Jewish general and historian, born in
Jerusalem,  the  author  of  The  Jewish  War  and Antiquities of  the Jews.
Incidentally, Berlioz is mistaken: Christ is mentioned in the latter work.
     8. Tacitus's [famous] Annals:  A work, covering the years AD 14-66,  by
Roman historian  Cornelius Tacitus (AD 55-120).  He also wrote a History  of
the years  AD  69-70,  among  other works.  Modern  scholarship  rejects the
opinion that the passage Berlioz refers to here is a later interpolation.
     9. Osiris: Ancient Egyptian  protector of the dead, brother and husband
of Isis, and father of the hawk-headed Horus,  a 'corn god', annually killed
and resurrected.
     10. Tammuz: A  Syro-Phoenician demi-god, like Osiris a spirit of annual
vegetation.
     11.  Marduk: Babylonian  sun-god,  leader of  a revolt against  the old
deities and institutor of a new order.
     12. Vitzliputzli: Also  known as Huitzilopochdi, the Aztec  god of war,
to whom human sacrifices were offered.
     13. a poodle's head: In  Goethe's Faust, Mephistopheles  first  gets to
Faust by taking the form of a black poodle.
     14.  a foreigner:  Foreigners aroused  both curiosity  and suspicion in
Soviet Russia, representing both the glamour of 'abroad' and the possibility
of espionage.
     15. Adonis: Greek version of the Syro-Phoenician demi-god Tammuz.
     16. Attis: Phrygian god, companion to Cybele. He was castrated and bled
to death.
     17. Mithras: God of light in ancient Persian Mazdaism.
     18. Magi: The three wise men from the east (a magus was a member of the
Persian priestly caste) who visited the newborn Jesus (Matt. 2:1--12).
     19. restless old  Immanuel:  Immanuel Kant (1724-1804), German idealist
philosopher, thought  that  the moral law  innate in  man  implied  freedom,
immortality and the existence of God.
     20.Schiller:   Friedrich   Schiller   (1759-1805),   German   poet  and
playwright, a liberal idealist.
     21.  Strauss: David Strauss  (1808-74),  German theologian, author of a
Life of Jesus,  considered the Gospel story as belonging to the category  of
myth.
     22. Solovki: A casual name for the  'Solovetsky Special  Purpose Camps'
located on the  site of a former monastery on the Solovetsky Islands in  the
White Sea. They  were of especially terrible renown during the thirties. The
last prisoners were loaded on a barge and drowned in the White Sea in 1959.
     23. Enemies? Interventionists?: There was  constant talk  in  the early
Soviet period  of 'enemies of the revolution' and 'foreign interventionists'
seeking to subvert the new workers' state.
     24.  Komsomol: Contraction  of the Union of Communist Youth, which  all
good Soviet young people were expected to join.
     25. A Russian emigre: Many Russians opposed to the revolution emigrated
abroad, forming  important  'colonies' in various capitals  - Berlin, Paris,
Prague,   Harbin,  Shanghai  -  where  they  remained  potential  spies  and
interventionists.
     26. Gerbert  of  Aurillac:  (958-1005), theologian  and  mathematician,
popularly taken to be a  magician and alchemist. He became pope in 999 under
the name of Sylvester II.
     27. Nisan:  The seventh month of the Jewish lunar calendar, twenty-nine
days  in  length. The  fifteenth  day of Nisan (beginning at sundown on  the
fourteenth)  is the start of the feast of Passover, commemorating the exodus
of the Jews from Egypt.
     Chapter 2: Pontius Pilate
     1. Herod  the Great: (?75 BC-AD 4), a clever politician whom the Romans
rewarded for his services by making king of Judea, an honour he handed on to
his son and grandson.
     2. Judea: The southern part of Palestine, subject to  Rome since 65 BC,
named for Judah, fourth son of Jacob.  In AD 6 it was made  a Roman province
with the procurator's seat at Caesarea.
     3. Pontius  Pilate: Roman  procurator  of Judea from  aboutAD 26 to 56.
Outside  the  Gospels,  virtually  nothing is  known  of  him, though  he is
mentioned  in  the passage  from  Tacitus  referred to  above. Bulgakov drew
details for his portrayal of the procurator from fictional lives of Jesus by
P. W. Farrar (1851-1905), Dean of Canterbury  Cathedral, and by Ernest Renan
(1825-92),  French  historian  and  lapsed  Catholic,  as  well  as  by  the
previously mentioned David Strauss.
     4.  Twelfth  Lightning legion: Bulgakov  translates  the  actual  Latin
nickname  (julmi-nata)  by which the  Twelfth legion was  known at  least as
early as the time  of the emperors Nerva and Trajan (late first century AD),
and probably earlier.
     5. Yershalaim: An alternative  transliteration  from Hebrew of the name
of Jerusalem. In  certain other  cases as well,  Bulgakov  has preferred the
distancing  effect  of  these  alternatives:  Yeshua  for Jesus,  Kaifa  for
Caiaphas, Kiriath for Iscariot.
     6. Galilee: The northern part of Palestine, green and fertile, with its
capital  at Tiberias on the Sea of Galilee (Lake  Kinnereth).  In Galilee at
that  time, the tetrarch (ruler of one of  the  four Roman  subdivisions  of
Palestine)  was  Herod Antipas,  son of Herod  the  Great. According  to the
Gospel of  Luke (25:7-- 11), Herod Antipas was in Jerusalem at  the  time of
Christ's crucifixion.
     7. Sanhedrin: The highest Jewish legislative and  judicial body, headed
by  the  high priest of the temple in Jerusalem. The lower courts of justice
were called lesser sanhedrins.
     8.  Aramaic: Name of  the northern  branch of  Semitic languages,  used
extensively  in south-west  Asia, adopted by  the Jews after  the Babylonian
captivity in the late sixth century BC.
     9. the temple of  Yershalaim: Built by King Solomon (tenth century BC),
the  first  temple was destroyed by the Babylonian  invaders in 586 BC.  The
second  temple,  built  in 557- 515 BC, rebuilt and embellished by Herod the
Great, was destroyed  by Titus in AD 70. No third temple has been built. One
of the accusations against Jesus  in the  Gospels was that he  threatened to
destroy the temple (see Mark 15:1-2,14:58). It may be well to note here that
Bulgakov's Yeshua is not  intended as a faithful depiction of Jesus  or as a
'revisionist'  alternative  to  the  Christ of the  Gospels,  though he does
borrow a number of details from the Gospels in portraying him.
     10. Hegemon: Greek for 'leader' or 'governor'.
     11.  Yeshua:  Aramaic for 'the  lord is salvation'. Ha-Nozri means  'of
Nazareth', the town in Galilee where Jesus lived before beginning his public
ministry.
     12. Gamala:  A town north-east of Tiberias on the  Sea of  Galilee, not
traditionally connected with Jesus.
     13. Matthew Levi: Compare the Matthew Levi of the Gospels, a former tax
collector, one  of the  twelve disciples (Matt.  9:9, Mark 2:14, Luke 5:27),
author of  the first Gospel.  Again, Bulgakov's character is not meant as an
accurate  portrayal of  Christ's disciple  (about  whom virtually nothing is
known) but is a free variation on the theme of discipleship.
     14. Bethphage: Hebrew for 'house of figs',  the  name of a village near
Jerusalem which Jesus passed through on his final journey to the city.
     15. What is truth?: Pilate's question to  Christ in the Gospel  of John
(18:58).
     16.  the Mount of Olives: A hill  to the east of Jerusalem. At the foot
of this hill is  Gethsemane ('the olive  press'), just across the  stream of
Kedron. It was here that Christ  was arrested (Matt. 26:56, Mark 14:52, Luke
22:59, John 18:1). These places will be important later in the novel.
     17. the Susa gate: Also known as the Golden gate, on the  east  side of
Jerusalem, facing the Mount of Olives.
     18. riding on an  ass: The Gospels are unanimous in describing Christ's
entry into Jerusalem riding on  an ass (Matt.  21:1--11, Mark 11:1--11, Luke
19:28-- 58, John 12:12-19).
     19. Dysmas  ...  Gestas ... Bar-Rabban:  The first two are the  thieves
crucified with Christ;  not given in the  canonical Gospels,  the names here
come from the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus (part of which is known as 'the
Acts  of Pilate'), one  of Bulgakov's references  during the  writing of the
novel. The third is a variant on the Barabbas of the Gospels.
     20.  Idistaviso: Mentioned  in Tacitus's Annals (2:16) as the site of a
battle between the Romans and the Germani in AD 16, on the right bank of the
Weser, in which the Roman general Germanicus defeated the army of Arminius.
     21.  another appeared  in its place: Pilate's  nightmarish vision is of
the aged emperor  Tiberius (42 BC-AD 57), who spent  many years in seclusion
on the island of Capri, where he succumbed to all sorts of vicious passions.
     The  law  of  lese-majesty (offence  against  the sovereign  people  or
authority) existed in  Rome under the republic; it was  revived by  Augustus
and given wide application by Tiberius.
     22.  Judas  from Kiriath:  Bulgakov's  variant  of  Judas  Iscariot  is
developed  quite differently from the Judas of  the  Gospel accounts, though
they have in common their  betrayal and the reward they get for it  from the
high priest.
     23.  Lit  the lamps: According to  B. V.  Sokolov's commentary  to  the
Vysshaya Shkola  edition  of the novel (Leningrad,  1989), the law  demanded
that lights be lit so  that the concealed witnesses for the accusation could
see  the  face  of  the  criminal. This would  explain  Pilate's  unexpected
knowledge.
     24.  Bald Mountain: Also referred to in the novel as Bald Hill and Bald
Skull, the  site corresponds to the Golgotha  ('place of the  skull') of the
Gospels, where Christ was  crucified, though topographically Bulgakov's hill
is  higher  and farther from  the city. There is also a  Bald Mountain  near
Kiev, Bulgakov's native city.
     25.  Kaifa: Bulgakov's variant of the name of the high priest Caiaphas,
mentioned in the Gospels and in historical records.
     26. Kaifa politely apologised: Going under the roof of  a gentile would
have  made  the high priest unclean and  therefore  unable to  celebrate the
coming feast.
     27. Bar-Rabban  or Ha- Nozri?: The same choice is offered in the Gospel
accounts (see Matt. 27:15--25, Mark 15:6--15, John 19:59--40).
     28. there floated some purple mass: According to  B. V.  Sokolov, there
existed a legend according to which  Pilate died by  drowning  himself. That
may be what Bulgakov has in mind here.
     29.  Equestrian  of  the  Golden  Spear: The equestrian order of  Roman
nobility was next in importance to the Senate. Augustus reformed the  order,
after  which it  supplied occupants for many administrative  posts. The name
Pilate (Pilatus) may derive from pilum, Latin for 'spear'.
     Chapter 3 The Seventh Proof
     1. Metropol:  A luxury  hotel in  Moscow,  built  at  the turn  of  the
century,  decorated  with  mosaics  by  the  artist Vrubel.  Used mainly  by
Foreigners during  the Soviet period, it still exists and has  recently been
renovated.
     Chapter 4: The Chase
     1. about a dozen  extinguished primuses: The  shortage of living  space
after the revolution led to  the typically Soviet phenomenon of the communal
apartment, in which several families would have one or two private rooms and
share  kitchen  and  toilet facilities.  This  led  to special psychological
conditions   among   people   and  to   a  specific   literary  genre   (the
communal-apartment  story, which  still  flourishes in  Russia).  The primus
stove, a portable  one-burner  stove  fuelled with pressurized benzene, made
its appearance at the  same  time and  became a symbol of communal-apartment
life. Each  family would have its own primus. The old wood- or (more rarely)
coal-burning  ranges  went out  of use  but remained in  place.  The general
problem of  "living  space', and the  primus stove in  particular,  plays an
important part throughout the Moscow sections of The Master and Margarita.
     2. two wedding candles: In the Orthodox marriage service, the bride and
groom  stand during the ceremony holding lighted candles. These are special,
large, often decorated candles, and are customarily  kept indefinitely after
the wedding, sometimes in the corner with the family icon.
     3. the Moscow  River amphitheatre: Ivan takes  his swim at the  foot of
what had been the Cathedral of Christ  the Saviour,  which  was dynamited in
1931. The remaining granite steps and amphitheatre were  originally  a grand
baptismal  font  at  the riverside, popularly  known  as 'the  Jordan'.  The
cathedral has now been rebuilt.
     4.  Evgeny Onegin:  An  opera by Pyotr  I. Tchaikovsky (1840--93), with
libretto by  the composer's brother  Modest, based  on the  great  'novel in
verse' of  the same  title by Alexander Pushkin  (1799-1837). Its  ubiquity,
like the  orange  lampshades,  suggests  the standardizing of  Soviet  life.
Tatyana, mentioned further on, is the heroine of Evgeny Onegin.
     Chapter 5. There were Doings at Gribwdov's
     1. Alexander Sergeevich Griboedov.  (1795-1829), poet,  playwright  and
diplomat,  best  known as the author of the  comedy  Woe From Wit, the first
real masterpiece of the Russian theatre.
     2.  Perelygino:  The  name  is  clearly  meant to  suggest  the  actual
Peredelkino,  a  "writers'  village'  near Moscow where  many  writers  were
allotted country houses. It was a privileged and highly desirable place.
     3. Yalta, Suuk-Su... (Winter  Palace):  To this list of resort towns in
the  Crimea,  the Caucasus and Kazakhstan, Bulgakov  incongruously adds  the
Winter Palace in Leningrad, former residence of the emperors.
     4.  dachas: The Russian dacha  (pronounced  DA-tcha)  is  a  summer  or
country house.
     5. coachmen: Though  increasingly  replaced by automobiles, horse-drawn
cabs were still in use in Moscow until around 1940. Thus  the special  tribe
of  Russian  coachmen  persisted  long  after  their  western   counterparts
disappeared.
     Chapter 6: Schizophrenia, as was Said
     1. saboteur: Here and a little further on Ivan uses standard terms from
Soviet  mass campaigns against 'enemies of the people'. Anyone thought to be
working against the aims of the ruling party could be denounced and arrested
as a saboteur.
     2. Kulak: (Russian for 'fist') refers to the class of wealthy peasants,
which Stalin ordered liquidated in 1930.
     3. the First of May: Originally commemorating the Haymarket Massacre in
Chicago, this day later became a general holiday of the  labour movement and
was celebrated with particular enthusiasm in the Soviet Union.
     4.  a metal  man:  This is  the poet  Pushkin, whose  statue  stands in
Strastnaya  (renamed  Pushkin)  Square. The snowstorm  covers  ...'  is  the
beginning  of Pushkin's much-anthologized poem The Snowstorm'. The reference
to 'that white  guard'  is anachronistic here.  The White  Guard opposed the
Bolsheviks ('Reds') during the Russian civil war in the early twenties.
     Pushkin was fatally wounded  in the  stomach  during  a duel with Baron
Georges  D'Anthes, an  Alsatian  who  served in the  Russian  Imperial Horse
Guard.  Under  the  Soviet regime  the  term 'white guard' was a  pejorative
accusation,  which   was  levelled   against  Bulgakov  himself  after   the
publication of  his novel, The White Guard, and the  production of his play,
Days  of  the  Turbins,  based  on the  novel. In having  Riukhin  talk with
Pushkin's  statue,  Bulgakov  parodies  the  `revolutionary'  poet  Vladimir
Mayakovsky (1893-1930),  whose  poem Yubileinoe  was written `in 1924 on the
occasion of the 125<sup>th</sup> anniversary of Pushkin's birth.
     Chapter 7: A. Naughty Apartment
     1.  ... people  began to disappear: Here,  as throughout The Master and
Margarita, Bulgakov treats the everyday Soviet phenomenon of disappearances'
(arrests) and  other  activities  of  the  secret  police in the most vague,
impersonal and hushed manner.  The  main example is the arrest of the master
himself in Chapter 13, which passes almost without mention.
     2. Here I am': Bulgakov quotes the exact words (in Russian translation)
of Mephistopheles' first appearance to Faust in  the opera Faust,  by French
composer Charles Gounod (1818-95).
     3. Woland: A German name for Satan, which appears in  several  variants
in  the  old Faust legends (Valand,  Woland, Faland, Wieland). In his drama,
Goethe once refers to the devil as 'Junker Woland'.
     4. findirtctor: Typical Soviet contraction for financial director.
     5.  an  enormous wax seal: Styopa immediately assumes that Berlioz  has
been arrested, hence his 'disagreeable thoughts' about whether he  may  have
compromised himself with the editor and thus be in danger of arrest himself.
     6.  Azazello: Bulgakov adds an Italian ending to the Hebrew name Azazel
('goat god'), to  whom a goat (the scapegoat or  'goat for Azazel')  bearing
the sins of  the people was sacrificed on  Yom Kippur by being sent into the
wilderness to die (Leviticus 16:7--10).
     Chapter 9. Korowiev's Stunts
     1. chairman  of the tenants' association: This quasi-official  position
gave  its occupant  enormous power, considering  the  permanent shortage  of
living  space,  which  led  to  all  sorts of  crookedness and bribe-taking.
Bulgakov portrays knavish house chairmen in several works, having suffered a
good deal from  them  in  his search  for  quarters  during the twenties and
thirties. This chairman's name, Bosoy, means 'Barefoot'.
     2.  speculating  in  foreign  currency:  The  Soviet rouble  was  not a
convertible currency, and the government therefore had great need of foreign
currency for trade purposes. Soviet  citizens were forbidden to keep foreign
currency, and  there  were also several  'round-ups' of gold  and  jewellery
during  the  thirties.  Speculating  in  currency could  even be  a  capital
offence. This situation plays a role in several later episodes of the novel.
     Chapter 10: News from Yalta
     1.  Varenukha: His name is that of a drink made from honey, berries and
spices boiled in vodka.
     2.  A   super-lightning  telegram:  Bulgakov's   exaggeration  of   the
'lightning telegram', which did exist.
     3. A false Dmitri:  The notorious impostor Grigory ('Grishka') Otrepev,
known as 'the false Dmitri', was a defrocked monk of the seventeenth century
who claimed  the  Russian  throne by  pretending  to be  the prince  Dmitri,
murdered son of Ivan the Terrible.
     4. rocks, my refuge...: Words from the romance 'Refuge', with  music by
Franz Schubert (1797-1828), inspired by Goethe's Faust.
     5.  take it  there personally: Another oblique reference to the  secret
police. By now the reader should recognize the manner.
     Chapter 12: Black Magic and Its Exposure
     1.  Louisa: The character Louisa Miller, from Schiller's  play Intrigue
and Love, a fixture in the repertories of Soviet theatres.
     Chapter 13. The Hero Enters
     1.  A state bond: Soviet citizens were  'asked' to  buy state bonds  at
their places  of work. As  an incentive, lotteries  would  be held every  so
often in which certain bond numbers would win a significant amount of money.
Secure  places being  scarce  in  communal  living  conditions