Mikhail Bulgakov (1891-1940), the son of a theologian, was born in Kiev on 3 March 1891. Having graduated in 1916 from Kiev University’s School of Medicine, he served as a doctor behind the South-Western Front. In 1921, he moved to Moscow, where his career as a writer was marked by state interference in his work: in 1926, the security forces confiscated his manuscript of The heart of a dog, while in 1929, Stalin himself ordered that his plays should no longer be performed. In response, Bulgakov sent an official letter to the government but never received a reply. In 1930, he again wrote to the authorities after Moliere (The cabal of hypocrites) was banned, asking permission to leave the country or to be given a job in the theatre. As a result, he was hired as a director at the Moscow Art Theatre and at TRAM (the Young Workers’ Theatre) as a dramaturgical consultant. Moliere was produced at the Art Theatre in 1936, the censorship committee allowing it to be staged after changes had been made to the text. The initial run was cut short, however, after an article denouncing the play was published in Pravda, along with others denigrating it for what was interpreted as criticism of the Soviet regime in general and Stalin in particular. Bulgakov completed some other plays, which remained unstaged, however, and in 1939 wrote Batum, with Stalin as the protagonist, which was banned by the censor.

His novel, The master and Margarita, was published posthumously in a censored version in 1966, not appearing unabridged in Russia until 1973, more than 30 years after his death. It is considered Bulgakov’s masterpiece, while the figure of the Master, a tortured writer, partly reflects his own difficult path.

 

A short list of his plays:
The days of the Turbins, Zoika’s apartment, The Crimson island, The last days (Pushkin), Molière (The cabal of hypocrites), Bliss, Batum.

 

Your Majesty, please explain… Please… Maybe I didn’t flatter you enough? Maybe I didn’t grovel enough?... Your Majesty, where will you find another kiss-ass like Molière? (The cabal of hypocrites)

 

- A tyrant, a tyrant…
- Who are you talking about, maître?
- About the king of France…
- Quiet!
- About Louis the Great! A tyrant!
- That’s it. We’re both hanged. (The cabal of hypocrites)

What for? You see, this morning I ask him, What for? I don’t understand... I say to him: Your Majesty, I really hate such acts, I protest, I am insulted, Your Majesty, please explain… Please… Maybe I didn’t flatter you enough? Maybe I didn’t grovel enough?... Your Majesty, where will you find another kiss-ass like Molière? But what for, Bouton? For Tartuffe. For that I humiliated myself. I thought I’d find an ally. And that I did! Don’t humiliate yourself, Bouton. I hate lawless tyranny! (The cabal of hypocrites)