The Variety Theater is a fictional theater in the novel “The Master and Margarita”, with which an imaginary space is associated in the architectonics of the work. In the early editions of T.V. it was called “Cabaret Theatre”.

Here a session of Woland's black magic takes place, followed by exposure. The exposure in this case occurs literally: the owners of the latest Parisian toilets, received from the devil in exchange for their modest Moscow dresses, after the session, in an instant, against their will, are exposed, as the fashionable Parisian dresses disappear to God knows where.

The prototype of T.V. was the Moscow Music Hall, which existed in 1926-1936. and located near the Bad Apartment at the address: Bolshaya Sadovaya, 18. Nowadays the Moscow Theater of Satire is located here. And until 1926, the Nikitin brothers’ circus was located here, and the building was specially built for this circus in 1911 according to the design of the architect Nilus. The Nikitin Circus is mentioned in "Heart of a Dog". By the way, the Variety Theater program contains a number of purely circus acts, such as the “miracles of the Julie family’s bicycle technology,” the prototype of which was the famous circus figure skaters of the Poldi (Podrezov) family, who successfully performed on the stage of the Moscow Music Hall.

The “rain of money” shed on the Variety audience by Woland’s henchmen has a rich literary tradition. In the dramatic poem “Faust” (1808-1832) by Johann Wolfgang Goethe (1749-1832), in the second part, Mephistopheles, finding himself together with Faust at the emperor’s court, invents paper money, which turns out to be fiction.

Another possible source is the passage in Travel Pictures (1826) by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856), where the German poet satirically gives an allegorical account of the political struggle between liberals and conservatives, presented as the story of a Bedlam patient. The narrator explains the world's evil by saying that “the Lord God created too little money.”

Woland and his assistants, distributing paper chervonets to the crowd, seem to make up for the imaginary shortage of cash. But the devil's chervonets quickly turn into ordinary paper, and thousands of visitors to the Variety Theater become victims of deception. For Woland, imaginary money is only a way to reveal the inner essence of those with whom Satan and his retinue come into contact.

But the episode with the rain of chervonets in T.V. also has a literary source closer in time - excerpts from the second part of the novel “Two Worlds” by Vladimir Zazubrin (Zubtsov) (1895-1937), published in 1922 in the magazine “Siberian Lights” . There, the peasants - members of the commune - decide to abolish and destroy money, without waiting for a decree from the Soviet government. However, it soon becomes clear that money has not been abolished in the country, and then the crowd approaches the leaders of the commune, calls them deceivers and swindlers, threatens them with violence and wants to achieve the impossible - to return the already destroyed bills.

In T.V. the situation is mirrored. Those present at the black magic session first receive “supposedly money” (that was the name of one of the chapters of the early edition of the novel), which is mistaken for real money. When the imaginary money turns into worthless pieces of paper, the bartender of the Sokov Theater demands that Woland replace it with full-fledged chervonets.

The daring words of the march, with which Koroviev-Fagot forces the theater orchestra to end the scandalous session, are a parody of couplets from the popular in the 19th century. vaudeville "Lev Gurych Sinichkin, or Provincial Debutante" (1839) by Dmitry Lensky (Vorobyov) (1805-1860):
His Excellency
Calls her his
And even patronage
Gives it to her.

Bulgakov's couplets became even more humorous. They are addressed directly to the chairman of the Acoustic Commission, Arkady Apollonovich Sempleyarov, who demanded the exposure of black magic, but was exposed himself:
His Excellency
Loved poultry
And took under his protection
Pretty girls!!!

It is possible that the image with birds here was suggested to Bulgakov by the “bird name” of both the author, who wrote under the pseudonym Lensky, and the main character of the vaudeville.

T.V. in The Master and Margarita has quite deep aesthetic roots. In 1914, the manifesto of one of the founders of futurism, the Italian writer Filippo Tommaso Marinetti (1876-1944), “Music Hall” (1913), was published in Russian translation in No. 5 of the magazine “Theater and Art” under the title “Praise to the Variety Theater” (probably , such a transformation of the name prompted Bulgakov to replace the real Moscow Music Hall with the fictional T.V.).

Marinetti argued: “The Variety Theater destroys everything solemn, sacred, and serious in art. It contributes to the impending destruction immortal works, changing and parodying them, presenting them somehow, without any setting, without being embarrassed, as the most ordinary thing... It is necessary to absolutely destroy all logic in variety show performances, noticeably exaggerate their extravagance, enhance contrasts and allow everything extravagant to reign on stage. .. Interrupt the singer. Accompany the singing of a romance with abusive and insulting words... Force the spectators of the stalls, boxes and gallery to take part in the action... Systematically profane classical art on stage, depicting, for example, all the Greek, French and Italian tragedies simultaneously in one evening, abbreviated and comically mixed up together... Encourage in every possible way the genre of American eccentrics, their grotesque effects, amazing movements, their clumsy antics, their immense rudeness, their vests filled with all sorts of surprises and pants, deep as ship holds, from which, along with a thousand objects, comes the great futuristic laughter that should renew the physiognomy of the world."

Bulgakov did not favor futurism and other theories of “leftist art”; he had a negative attitude towards the productions of V. E. Meyerhold (1874-1940) and the project of a monument to the Third International by V. E. Tatlin (1885-1953) (see: “Capital in a notebook” ). The story "Fatal Eggs" ironically mentions the "Theater named after the late Vsevolod Meyerhold, who died, as is known, in 1927 during the production of Pushkin's Boris Godunov, when the trapeze with naked boyars collapsed."

The author of "The Master and Margarita" strictly follows all the recommendations of the famous Italian. Theater really destroys everything sacred and serious in art. The programs here are devoid of any logic, which is personified, in particular, by the entertainer Georges Bengalsky, who talks nonsense and is distinguished, like American eccentrics, by clumsiness and rudeness.

Woland and his henchmen really force the stalls, the boxes, and the gallery to participate in the performance, encouraging the audience to determine the fate of the unlucky Bengalsky, and then to catch the chervonets falling like paper rain. Koroviev-Fagot makes sure that the march is accompanied by extravagant daring couplets and takes out from his pockets many objects that generate “great futuristic laughter” in the audience: from the watch of the financial director of the Variety Rimsky and a magic deck of cards to the devil’s chervonets and a store of Parisian fashionable dresses. How much is the cat Behemoth worth, easy drinking water from a glass or tearing off the head of a boring entertainer!

Woland, setting up an experiment with money and the unlucky Georges of Bengal, tests Muscovites, finds out how much they have changed internally, and in his own way strives to “renew the physiognomy of the world.”

And Bulgakov with his hands evil spirits punishes all those involved in the Variety Theater for vulgarizing high art in the spirit of Marinetti’s calls, whose manifesto turns into a session of black magic. Director T.V. Stepan Bogdanovich Likhodeev is thrown out of his apartment by Woland to Yalta, administrator T.V. Varenukha becomes a victim of the vampire Gella and himself turns into a vampire, having difficulty getting rid of this unpleasant position in the finale. The same Varenukha and Gella almost destroyed the financial director Rimsky, who only miraculously escaped the fate that befell the administrator. The public is also punished, having lost both their ghostly Parisian outfits and their real Moscow ones.

The paradox is that Bulgakov, without sympathizing with futurism and other movements of “left” art, in “The Master and Margarita”, as in his other works, made extensive use of the grotesque, fearlessly mixed genres and traditions of different literary trends and styles, willingly or unwillingly following Marinetti’s theory here. And the author of the novel loved eccentric clowns. In "The Capital in a Notebook" the clown Lazarenko is mentioned with admiration, who in the Nikitin circus, a stone's throw from the GITIS theater, where Meyerhold staged his play, stuns the audience with "monstrous salto."

Bulgakov was only against eccentricity replacing high performing arts, but did not mind if both were organically combined. In The Master and Margarita, high philosophical content quite appropriately coexists with buffoonery, including in T.V.

The devilish shop of French fashion during a session of black magic is largely taken from a story popular in the early 20th century. writer Alexander Amfitheatrov (1862-1938) “Smugglers of St. Petersburg” (1898), where in the house of one of the famous smugglers there is an underground store of fashionable women’s clothes, illegally imported into Russia.

The episode with Woland's chervonets was one of the sources of the essay "The Legend of Agrippa" by the writer and symbolist poet Valery Bryusov (1873-1924), written for the Russian translation of J. Orsier's book "Agrippa of Nettesheim: The Famous Adventurer of the 16th Century." (1913). It was noted there that the medieval German scientist and theologian Agrippa of Nettesheim (1486-1535), according to his contemporaries, was a sorcerer who allegedly “often, during his travels... paid in hotels with money that had all the signs of being genuine. Of course, according to When the philosopher left, the coins turned into manure. Agrippa gave one woman a basket of gold coins; the next day the same thing happened to these coins: the basket turned out to be filled with horse manure.”

Woland, who suddenly appeared in Moscow, and his retinue managed to do a lot of things that shocked the imagination of the average person in four days, but the most incredible and scandalous incident was the incident at the Variety Theater.

This episode is skillfully woven into a special satirical and everyday layer of the novel, associated with the storyline of Woland, who appears wherever moral and ethical principles are violated. The whole atmosphere of the stage in the Variety Show is both real and phantasmagoric. Under bursts of laughter, hooting and applause from joyfully excited spectators, horrific things happen, a number of monstrous experiments are carried out, tests of humanity and heartlessness, greed, honesty, decency, meanness, deceit, mercy...

By confronting the audience of the Variety Theater (where, according to entertainer Bengalsky, half of Moscow had gathered) with evil spirits, the writer seems to be exploring whether they have moral support, whether they are able to resist temptation, the temptation to sin, whether they can rise above the gray everyday life, take your mind off gossip, apartment squabbles, intrigue, self-interest.

Careful reading of this chapter helps the reader to uncover the secret of Woland’s visit to Moscow in the 30s and to guess the purpose of his visit. Appearing on the stage of the Variety Theater as a “famous foreign artist”, “magician and sorcerer”, “Monsieur” Woland does not entertain the audience, but, on the contrary, he gazes intently at it. (“I’ll tell you a secret... I’m not an artist at all, but I just wanted to see Muscovites en masse, and the most convenient way to do this was in the theater... I just sat and looked at the Muscovites.”) He is primarily concerned with the question , has the “Moscow population” changed? At first glance, yes: “...The townspeople have changed a lot... outwardly... like the city itself, by the way.” However, Woland is interested in “a much more important question: have these people changed internally? »

And so a session of black magic unfolds, masterfully performed by Koroviev-Fagot and the cat Behemoth. After a trick with cards, “some confused citizen discovered in his pocket a pack tied in a bank account and with the inscription on the cover: “One thousand rubles.” The astonished public was not excited by the miracle of the appearance of money, but only by one thing - whether they were real chervonets or fake. When the “money rain” began to fall, “... merriment, and then amazement, gripped the entire theater. Everywhere the word “chervonetsy, chervonetsy” was buzzing, screams were heard... Some were already crawling in the aisle, groping under the chairs. Many stood on the seats, catching fidgety, capricious pieces of paper.” Tension grows in the hall, a scandal brews, and a fight breaks out. With subtle irony, Bulgakov depicts how Soviet citizens selflessly and tenderly “love money”: “Hundreds of hands rose, spectators looked through pieces of paper at the illuminated stage and saw the most faithful and correct watermarks. The smell also left no doubt: it was the incomparable smell of freshly printed money.” The epithets “the most faithful and correct”, “incomparable to anything in charm” attract attention - this is how they speak about something very dear and cherished. And the reaction to the “revelations” of Georges of Bengal, who demanded the disappearance of these “allegedly monetary pieces of paper,” seems natural. The public suggested tearing off his head, which was done with lightning speed. The deliberately naturalistic scene of the head being torn off shocks the audience. People, amazed by their own herd cruelty, came to their senses: “For God’s sake, don’t torture him! - suddenly, covering the din, a woman’s voice sounded from the box...” A chorus of female and male voices joined him: “Forgive, forgive!..” And here Woland intervenes for the first time: “Well... they are people like people . They love money, but this has always been the case... Humanity loves money, no matter what it is made of, whether leather, paper, bronze or gold. Well, they are frivolous... well, well, and mercy sometimes knocks on their hearts... ordinary people... In general, they resemble the old ones... the housing problem only spoiled them... - And he loudly ordered: “Put on your head " These words of the prince of darkness, which have already become textbook, carry both contemporary political overtones to Bulgakov and deep philosophical meaning. Yes, over the past almost two thousand years, people have “changed little internally.” How similar the crowd in ancient Yershalaim during the announcement of the verdict is to those who thirst for “bread and circuses” in the Variety Show: “Then it seemed to Pontius Pilate that the sun, ringing, burst above him and filled his ears with fire. Roars, squeals, groans, laughter, and whistles raged in this fire.”

But the slightest manifestation of humanity in a person - mercy - reconciles the author (and, oddly enough, Woland) with people, makes him believe in the moral nature of man. The theme of goodness and mercy, running through the entire novel, is very clearly indicated in this chapter.

The episode at the Variety Theater also has another “... very relevant and also philosophical meaning”: “socialist theorists believed that the establishment of socialist relations would lead to fundamental changes in the moral as well as mental nature of man... The experiment failed...” (G. Lesskis).

Life is open to Bulgakov’s all-seeing Woland without blush and makeup. Woland's piercing ironic view is close to the author, who views the individual and all of humanity from a certain distance - cultural, temporal - trying to reveal the moral essence of people. With the help of mysticism and fantasy, Bulgakov ridicules everything that has turned away from goodness, has been lied to, corrupted, morally emasculated, and has lost the eternal truths.

Thus, the twelfth chapter, being the culmination storyline“Woland - Muscovites” plays a very important role in revealing the philosophical and political subtext of the novel, reflects its stylistic richness and originality.

Chapter 12. Black magic and its exposure

A little man in a holey yellow bowler hat with a pear-shaped crimson nose, checkered trousers and patent leather boots rode onto the Variety stage on an ordinary two-wheeled bicycle. He made a circle to the sound of a foxtrot, and then let out a cry of victory, causing the bicycle to rear up on its hind legs.

Having ridden on one rear wheel, the man turned upside down, managed to unscrew the front wheel while moving and let it go behind the scenes, and then continued on one wheel, turning the pedals with his hands.

On a high metal mast, with a saddle on top and one wheel, a plump blonde woman in tights and a skirt dotted with silver stars rode out and began to ride around. When meeting her, the man uttered greeting cries and kicked the bowler hat off his head.

Finally, a little boy of about eight with an old face rolled up and darted between the adults on a tiny two-wheeler, to which was attached a huge car horn.

Having made several loops, the whole company, accompanied by the alarming beat of a drum from the orchestra, rolled up to the very edge of the stage; the spectators in the first rows gasped, because it seemed to the public that the whole trio with their cars would crash into the orchestra.

But the bicycles stopped just at the moment when the front wheels were already threatening to slide into the abyss on the heads of the musicians. The cyclists loudly shouted “Up!” They jumped off the cars and bowed, with the blonde blowing kisses to the audience, and the little one sounding a funny signal on her horn.

Applause shook the building, the blue curtain moved from both sides and covered the cyclists, the green lights with the sign “exit” at the doors went out, and in the web of trapezoids under the dome, white balls lit up like the sun. There was an intermission before the last part.

The only person who was not in the least interested in the miracles of the Giulli family's bicycle technology was Grigory Danilovich Rimsky. He sat completely alone in his office, biting his thin lips, and a twitch passed over his face every now and then. Likhodeev's extraordinary disappearance was joined by the completely unexpected disappearance of the administrator Varenukha.

Rimsky knew where he went, but he went... didn’t come back! Rimsky shrugged his shoulders and whispered to himself:

But for what?!

And, it’s a strange thing: the easiest thing for such a business person as the financial director, of course, was to call where Varenukha had gone and find out what had happened to him, and yet he could not force himself to do this until ten o’clock in the evening.

At ten, having committed complete violence against himself, Rimsky picked up the phone and then became convinced that his phone was dead. The courier reported that the rest of the machines in the building had also deteriorated. This, of course, unpleasant, but not supernatural event, for some reason completely shocked the financial director, but at the same time made him happy: there was no longer any need to call.

Just as a red light flashed and blinked above the findirector’s head, signaling the start of intermission, a courier entered and announced that a foreign artist had arrived. For some reason, the financial director shuddered, and, becoming completely gloomier than a cloud, he went backstage to receive the guest, since there was no one else to receive him.

Curious people were peeking into the large restroom from the corridor, where alarm bells were already ringing, under various pretexts. There were magicians in bright robes and turbans, a speed skater in a white knitted jacket, a storyteller pale with powder, and a make-up artist.

The arriving celebrity amazed everyone with his unprecedentedly long, marvelously cut tailcoat and the fact that he appeared in a black half mask. But most surprising of all were the black magician’s two companions: a long checkered one in a cracked pince-nez and a fat black cat, who, entering the restroom on his hind legs, sat down completely at ease on the sofa, squinting at his exposed makeup lamps.

Rimsky tried to put a smile on his face, which made it look sour and angry, and bowed to the silent magician sitting next to the cat on the sofa. There was no handshake. But the cheeky checkered one recommended himself to the financial director, calling himself “their assistant.” This circumstance surprised the financial director, and again unpleasant: the contract made absolutely no mention of any assistant.

Very forcedly and dryly, Grigory Danilovich inquired from the checkered one that had fallen on his head about where the artist’s equipment was.

Diamond, our most precious, Mr. Director,” the magician’s assistant answered in a rattling voice, “our equipment is always with us. Votona!” Ein, bloom, drey! - and, twirling his knobby fingers in front of Rimsky’s eyes, he suddenly pulled out from behind the cat’s ear Rimsky’s own gold watch with a chain, which the findirector had previously had in his vest pocket under a buttoned jacket and with a chain threaded through a loop.

Rimsky involuntarily grabbed his stomach, those present gasped, and the make-up artist, looking through the door, grunted approvingly.

Your watch? Please get it,” said the checkered one, smiling cheekily and handing his property to the confused Rimsky on a dirty palm.

“Don’t get on the tram,” the narrator whispered quietly and cheerfully to the make-up artist.

But he soaked a piece of cleaned room with someone else's watch. Suddenly getting up from the sofa, he walked up to the mirror table on his hind legs, pulled the cork out of the decanter with his front paw, poured water into a glass, drank it, put the cork back in place and wiped his mustache with a makeup rag.

Here no one even gasped, they just opened their mouths, and the make-up artist whispered in admiration:

Ay, cool!

Then the bells rang alarmingly for the third time, and everyone, excited and anticipating an interesting number, rushed out of the restroom.

A minute later, the audience's lights went out, a reddish glow flashed and a reddish glow appeared on the bottom of the curtain, and through the illuminated slit of the curtain, a plump, cheerful, childlike man with a shaved face, in a rumpled tailcoat and stale underwear appeared before the public. It was the entertainer Georges Bengalsky, well known throughout Moscow.

So, citizens,” Bengalsky spoke, smiling with a childish smile, “now he will speak to you...” here Bengalsky interrupted himself and spoke with different intonations: “I see that the number of audiences for the third section has increased even more.” Today we have half the city! One day the other day I met a friend and said to him: “Why don’t you come to us? Yesterday we had half the city.” And he answers me: “And I live in the other half!”

Bengalsky paused, expecting an explosion of laughter, but since no one laughed, he continued: “...So, the famous foreign artist Monsieur Woland is performing with a session of black magic!” Well, you and I understand,” here Bengalsky smiled with a wise smile, “that it does not exist at all in the world and that it is nothing more than a superstition, but simply Maestro Woland has a high degree of mastery of the technique of magic, which will be seen from the most interesting part, that is, the revelation this technique, and since we are all, as one, both for the technique and for its exposure, we will ask Mr. Woland!

Having uttered all this nonsense, Bengalsky clasped both hands, palm to palm, and waved in greeting through the cut in the curtain, causing him, making a quiet noise, to disperse to the sides.

The appearance of his long assistant, the cat, who entered the stage on his hind legs, was very popular with the audience.

“A chair,” Woland ordered quietly, and that same second, unknown how or where, a chair appeared on the stage, in which the magician sat down. “Tell me, dear Bassoon,” inquired Woland of the checkered player, who apparently had another name besides “Koroviev,” “what do you think, since the Moscow population has changed significantly?”

The magician looked at the silent audience, amazed by the appearance of the chair out of thin air.

“Exactly so, sir,” answered Fagot-Koroviev quietly.

You are right. The townspeople have changed a lot, outwardly, I say, like the city itself, however. There’s nothing to say about the costumes, but these... what’s their name... trams, cars appeared...

Buses,” Fagot suggested respectfully.

The public listened attentively to this conversation, believing that it was a prelude to magical tricks. The backstage was crowded with actors and stage workers, and between their faces one could see Rimsky’s tense, pale face.

The face of Bengalsky, who was nestled at the side of the stage, began to express bewilderment. He raised his eyebrows slightly, taking advantage of the pause, he spoke:

The foreign artist expresses his admiration for Moscow, which has grown technically, as well as for the Muscovites,” here Bengalsky smiled twice, first to the orchestra, and then to the gallery.

Woland, Fagot and the cat turned their heads towards the entertainer.

Did I express admiration? - the magician asked Fagot.

“No, sir, you didn’t express any admiration,” he answered.

So what is this man saying?

And he simply lied! - the checkered assistant said loudly throughout the theater and, turning to Bengalsky, added: - Congratulations, citizen, having lied!

There was a splash of laughter from the gallery, and Bengalsky shuddered and widened his eyes.

But, of course, I’m not so interested in buses, telephones and other things...

Equipment! - suggested the checkered one.

“Exactly right, thank you,” the magician said slowly in a heavy bass voice, “how much more important is the question: have these townspeople changed internally?”

Yes, this is the most important question, sir.

In the wings they began to look at each other and shrug their shoulders, Bengalsky stood red, and Rimsky was pale. But then, as if guessing the anxiety that had begun, the magician said:

However, we started talking, dear Bassoon, and the audience is starting to get bored. Show me something simple first.

The audience moved with relief. Bassoon and the cat went in different directions along the ramp. Bassoon snapped his fingers and shouted recklessly:

Three four! - he caught a deck of cards from the air, shuffled it and threw it to the cat with a ribbon. They intercepted the ribbon and threw it back. The satin snake snorted, Bassoon opened his mouth like a chick, and swallowed it all, card after card.

After this, the cat bowed, shuffling his right hind paw, and caused incredible applause.

Cool, cool! - they shouted in admiration backstage.

And Fagot pointed his finger at the stalls and announced:

This tapericha deck, dear citizens, is in the seventh row of citizen Parchevsky, right between the three-ruble note and the summons to appear in court in the case of paying alimony to citizen Zelkova.

The parterre began to stir, began to get up, and, finally, some citizen, whose name was definitely Parchevsky, all crimson with amazement, took a deck from his wallet and began poking it in the air, not knowing what to do with it.

Let it remain as a souvenir for you!” Fagot shouted. - It’s not for nothing that you said yesterday at dinner that if it weren’t for poker, your life in Moscow would be completely unbearable.

“It’s an old thing,” one heard from the gallery, “this one in the stalls is from the same company.”

Do you think so? - Fagot shouted, squinting at the gallery, - in that case, you’re in the same gang with us, because it’s in your pocket!

There was movement in the gallery, and a joyful voice was heard:

Right! Him! Here, here... Stop! Yes, these are chervonets!

Those sitting in the stalls turned their heads. In the gallery, some confused citizen discovered in his pocket a bundle tied in a bank account and with the inscription on the cover: “One thousand rubles.”

The neighbors piled on him, and in amazement he picked at the cover with his fingernail, trying to find out whether these were real chervonets or some kind of magic ones.

By God, they are real! Chervontsi! - they shouted joyfully from the gallery.

“Play this deck with me,” someone asked cheerfully

fat man in the middle of the stalls.

Avekplesir! - responded Fagot, - but why with you alone? Everyone will warmly participate! - and commanded: - Please look up!... One! - a pistol appeared in his hand, he shouted: - Two! - The pistol jerked upward. He shouted: “Three!” - it flashed, banged, and immediately from under the dome, diving between the trapezoids, white pieces of paper began to fall into the hall.

They spun, they were blown to the sides, driven into the gallery, thrown back into the orchestra and onto the stage. A few seconds later, the rain of money, growing thicker, reached the seats, and the audience began to catch pieces of paper.

Hundreds of hands rose, the audience looked through the pieces of paper at the illuminated stage and saw the most faithful and righteous watermarks. The smell also left no doubt: it was the incomparable smell of newly printed money in its charm. First, joy, and then amazement gripped the entire theater. The word “chervonetsy, chervonetsy” was heard everywhere, exclamations of “ah, ah!” and cheerful laughter. Some were already crawling in the aisle, groping under the chairs. Many stood on the seats, catching fidgety, capricious pieces of paper.

The faces of the police gradually began to express bewilderment, and the performers began to lean out of the wings without ceremony.

A voice was heard on the same floor: “What are you grabbing? It’s mine! It was flying to the room!” And another voice: “Don’t push me, I’ll push you like that!” And suddenly a splash was heard. Immediately a policeman’s helmet appeared on the mezzanine, and someone was led out of the mezzanine.

In general, the excitement grew, it is not known what would have happened if Fagot had not stopped the rain of money by suddenly blowing into the air.

The two young people, exchanging a significant, cheerful glance, rose from their seats and headed straight to the buffet. There was a buzz in the theater, all the spectators' eyes sparkled with excitement. Yes, yes, it is unknown how all this would have resulted if Bengalsky had not found the strength to move.

Trying to gain better control of himself, he, out of habit, rubbed his hands and in a voice of greatest sonority spoke like this:

Here, citizens, we have seen a case of so-called mass hypnosis. A purely scientific experiment, which proves in the best possible way that no miracles of magic exist. Let's ask maestro Woland to expose this experience to us. Now, citizens, you will see how these supposedly monetary pieces of paper will disappear as suddenly as they appeared.

Here he applauded, but in complete solitude, and at the same time he had a confident smile on his face, but in his eyes there was no confidence at all, and rather a plea was expressed in them.

The public did not like Bengalsky's speech. There was complete silence, which was interrupted by a checkered bassoon.

This is again a case of so-called lies,” he announced in a loud goat tenor, “pieces of paper, citizens, real!”

Bravo! - a bass barked abruptly somewhere in the heights.

By the way, this one,” here Fagot pointed at Bengalsky, “I’m tired of.” He pokes his head around all the time where he is not asked, ruining the session with false remarks! What should we do with him?

Rip his head off! - someone said sternly in the gallery.

How do you say it? Asya? - Fagot immediately responded to this ugly proposal, - tear off your head? This is an idea! Hippopotamus!” he shouted to the cat, “do it!” Ein, bloom, drey!

And an unprecedented thing happened. The fur on the black cat stood on end, and he meowed in a tearing manner. Then he curled up like a panther, swung straight at Bengalsky’s chest, and from there jumped onto his head. Rumbling, with his plump paws, the cat grabbed the entertainer’s thin hair and, howling wildly, tore this head from his full neck in two turns.

Two and a half thousand people in the theater screamed like one. Blood flowed upward in fountains from the torn arteries on the neck and flooded both the shirtfront and tailcoat. The headless body somehow awkwardly raked its legs and sat down on the floor. The hysterical screams of women were heard in the hall. The cat handed the head to Fagot, picked it up by the hair and showed it to the audience, and this head desperately shouted to the whole theater:

The doctors!

Will you continue to spout all sorts of nonsense in the future? - Fagot asked menacingly to the crying head.

I won't do it again! - the head croaked.

For God’s sake, don’t torment him! - Suddenly, covering the commotion, a woman’s voice sounded from the box, and the magician turned his face towards this voice.

So, citizens, should we forgive him, or what?” asked Fagot, addressing the audience.

Forgive! Forgive! - At first, separate and predominantly female voices were heard, and then they merged into one chorus with male ones.

What do you order, sir? - Fagot asked the disguised man.

“Well,” he responded thoughtfully, “they are people like people.” They love money, but this has always been the case... Humanity loves money, no matter what the shadows are made of, whether leather, paper, bronze or gold. Well, frivolous...well, well...and sometimes mercy knocks in their hearts...ordinary people...in general, they resemble the old ones...the housing problem only spoiled them... - and loudly ordered: - Put on your head.

The cat, aiming more carefully, put his head on his neck, and she sat down exactly in her place, as if she had never left.

And most importantly, there wasn’t even a scar left on my neck. The cat fanned Bengalsky’s tailcoat and plastron with his paws, and the traces of blood disappeared from them. Fagot lifted the seated Bengalsky’s legs, put a wad of ducats in his tailcoat pocket and escorted him from the stage with the words:

Get out of here! It's more fun without you.

Looking around senselessly and staggering, the entertainer only made it to the fire station, and there things became worse for him. He cried out pitifully:

My head, my head!

Along with the others, Rimsky rushed towards him. The entertainer was crying, catching something in the air with his hands, muttering:

Give me my head! Give me your head! Take the apartment, take the paintings, just give me your head!

The courier ran to the doctor. They tried to put Bengalsky on the sofa in the restroom, but he began to fight back and became violent. I had to call a carriage. When the unfortunate entertainer was taken away, Rimsky ran back to the stage and saw that new miracles were happening on it. Yes, by the way, whether at this time or a little earlier, but only the magician, along with his faded chair, disappeared from the stage, and it must be said that the audience did not notice this at all, carried away by those extraordinary things , which were deployed on stage by Fagot.

And Fagot, having sent away the injured entertainer, announced to the public like this:

Tapericha, when we got tired of this, let's open a ladies' store!

And immediately half the stage was covered with Persian carpets, huge mirrors appeared, illuminated from the sides by greenish tubes, and between the mirrors were display cases, and in them the spectators, in a cheerful stupor, saw Parisian women's dresses of different colors and styles. These are the first display cases, and in others hundreds of hats appeared, both with and without feathers, and with buckles, and without them, and hundreds of shoes - black, white, yellow, leather, satin, suede, with straps, and with stones. Cases appeared between the shoes, and the shiny edges of the crystal bottles sparkled with light. Mountains of handbags made of antelope leather, suede, silk, and between them are whole piles of hammered gold oblong cases in which there is lipstick.

God knows where a red-haired girl in a black evening dress came from, a good girl to all, if her freakish scar on her neck hadn’t spoiled her, she smiled at the shop windows with a master’s smile.

Bassoon, smiling sweetly, announced that the company exchanges old ladies' dresses and shoes for Parisian models and Parisian shoes completely free of charge. He added the same regarding handbags, perfumes and other things.

The cat began to shuffle with his hind paw, his front paw, and at the same time making some gestures characteristic of doormen opening the door.

The girl, although hoarse, but sweetly sang, burbling, something incomprehensible, but, judging by the women’s faces in the stalls, very seductive:

Guerlain, Chanel number five, Mitsuko, Narcisse noir, evening dresses, cocktail dresses...

The bassoon wriggled, the cat bowed, the girl opened glass cases.

Ask! - Fagot yelled, - without any embarrassment or ceremony!

The audience was worried, but no one dared to go on stage yet. But finally some brunette came out of the tenth row of the stalls and, smiling in such a way that she said she absolutely didn’t care and didn’t care at all, walked up the side ladder and up to the stage.

Bravo! - Fagot cried, - I welcome the first visitor! Hippopotamus, chair! Let's start with the shoes, madam.

The brunette sat down in a chair, and Fagot immediately dumped a whole pile of shoes on the carpet in front of her.

The brunette took off her right slippers, tried on a lilac one, stomped on the carpet, and examined the heel.

And they won't reap? - she asked thoughtfully.

To this Fagot exclaimed offendedly:

What are you, what are you! - and the cat meowed out of resentment.

“I’ll take this pair, monsieur,” the brunette said with dignity, putting on the second shoe.

The brunette's old shoes were thrown out behind the curtain, and she herself followed there, accompanied by a red-haired girl and Fagot, who carried several fashionable dresses on his shoulders. He fussed, helped and, for added importance, hung a centimeter around his neck.

A minute later, a brunette came out from behind the curtain in a dress that sent a sigh through the entire orchestra. The brave woman, who had become surprisingly prettier, stopped at the mirror, moved her bare shoulders, touched the hair on the back of her head and bent over, trying to look behind her back.

“The company asks you to take this as a reminder,” said Fagot and handed the brunette an open case with a bottle.

“Mercy,” the brunette answered arrogantly and walked along the ladder to the stalls. While she was walking, the audience jumped up and touched the case.

And then there was a clear breakthrough, and women came onto the stage from all sides. In the general excited conversation, laughs and sighs, a man’s voice was heard: “I won’t let you!” and a woman’s: “Despot philistine, don’t break my hand!” The women disappeared behind the curtain, left their dresses there and came out in new ones. A whole row of ladies sat on stools with gilded legs, energetically stamping their newly-shod feet on the carpet. Bassoon knelt down, wielded a horny dresser, the cat, exhausted under piles of handbags and shoes, dragged himself

showcases to stools and back, the girl with a disfigured neck appeared and disappeared and reached the point where she began to rattle completely in French, and the surprising thing was that all the women understood her perfectly, even those who did not know a single French words.

General amazement was caused by a man who squeezed onto the stage. He announced that his wife had the flu and that he therefore asked him to convey something to her through him. To prove that he was really married, the citizen was ready to present his passport. The caring husband's statement was met with laughter, Fagot shouted that he believed as himself, without a passport, and handed the citizen two pairs of silk stockings, the cat added a case of lipstick on his own behalf.

Latecomers rushed onto the stage, happy women in ball gowns, pajamas with dragons, formal business suits, and hats pulled down over one eyebrow flowed from the stage.

Then Fagot announced that the store was closing until tomorrow evening in exactly one minute, and an incredible bustle arose on the stage. The women quickly, without any fitting, grabbed the shoes. One, like a storm, burst behind the curtain, threw off her suit there, took possession of the first thing that turned up - silk, in huge bouquets, a robe, and, in addition, managed to pick up two cases of perfume.

Exactly a minute later a pistol shot rang out, the mirrors disappeared, the display cases and bureaus fell through, the carpet melted in the air just like the curtain. The last thing to disappear was the tall mountain of old dresses and shoes, and the stage became again austere, empty and bare.

And here a new character intervened.

A pleasant, sonorous and very persistent baritone was heard from box No. 2:

- Still, it would be advisable, citizen artist, that you immediately expose to the audience the technique of your tricks, especially the trick with banknotes. It is also desirable for the entertainer to return to the stage. His fate worries the audience.

The baritone belonged to none other than tonight's guest of honor, Arkady Apollonovich Sempleyarov, chairman of the acoustic commission of Moscow theaters.

Arkady Apollonovich was seated in a box with two ladies: an elderly one, expensively and fashionably dressed, and the other, young and pretty, dressed more simply. The first of them, as it soon became clear when drawing up the protocol, was the wife of Arkady Apollonovich, the author, a distant relative of him, an aspiring and promising actress who came from Saratov and lived in the apartment of Arkady Apollonovich and his wife.

“Sorry!” responded Fagot, “I’m sorry, there’s nothing to expose here, everything is clear.”

- No, it's my fault! Exposure is absolutely necessary. Without this, your brilliant numbers will leave a painful impression. The audience demands an explanation.

“The masses of spectators,” the impudent gayer interrupted Sempleyarov, “as if they didn’t say anything?” But, taking into account your respected desire, Arkady Apollonovich, I will, so be it, make an expose. But for this, will you allow me one more tiny number?

“Why not,” Arkady Apollonovich answered patronizingly, “but certainly with exposure!”

- I obey, I obey. So, let me ask you, where did you go last night, Arkady Apollonovich?

At this inappropriate and perhaps even boorish question, Arkady Apollonovich’s face changed, and changed quite a lot.

“Arkady Apollonovich was at a meeting of the acoustic commission last night,” Arkady Apollonovich’s wife said very arrogantly, “but I don’t understand what this has to do with magic.”

“Oh, madam!” confirmed Fagot, “naturally, you don’t understand.” You are completely mistaken about the meeting. Having left for the mentioned meeting, which, by the way, was not scheduled yesterday, Arkady Apollonovich released his driver at the building of the acoustic commission on Chistye Prudy (the entire theater was quiet), and he took the bus to Yelokhovskaya Street to visit the artist of the traveling regional theater Militsa Andreevna Pokobatko and spent time with her guests for about four hours.

- Oh! - someone exclaimed painfully in complete silence.

A young relative of Arkady Apollonovich suddenly burst out laughing with a low and terrible laugh.

- All clear! - she exclaimed, - and I have long suspected this. Now it’s clear to me why this mediocrity got the role of Louise!

And, suddenly swinging her short and thick purple umbrella, she hit Arkady Apollonovich on the head.

The vile Fagot, who is also Koroviev, shouted:

- Here, respectable citizens, is one of the cases of exposure that Arkady Apollonovich so persistently sought!

- How dare you, scoundrel, touch Arkady Apollonovich? - Arkady Apollonovich’s wife asked menacingly, rising to the couch to her gigantic height.

A second short burst of satanic laughter took possession of the young relative.

“Who knows,” she answered, laughing, “but I dare to touch you!” - and the second dry crack of an umbrella was heard, bouncing off Arkady Apollonovich’s head.

-Police! Take it! - Sempleyarov’s wife shouted in such a terrible voice that many people’s hearts turned cold.

Then the mother-in-law jumped out and suddenly barked at the theater in a human voice:

- The session is over! Maestro! Shorten the march!!

The maddened conductor, not realizing what he was doing, waved his baton, and the orchestra did not play, and did not even strike, and did not even strike, but, in the disgusting expression of the cat, cut short some incredible march, unlike anything else in its swagger.

For a moment it seemed as if some obscure but daring words of this march had once been heard, by the stars in the south, in a café-chantant:

His Excellency

Loved poultry

And took under his protection

Pretty girls!!!

Or maybe there weren’t any of these words, but there were others based on the same music, some extremely indecent ones. What is important is not this, but what is important is that after all this, in the Variety, something like a table of Babylonian devastation began. The police ran to the Sempleyar box, curious people climbed onto the barrier, hellish explosions of laughter and frenzied screams were heard, muffled by the golden ringing of cymbals from the orchestra.

And it was clear that the stage was suddenly empty and that the fool Fagot, as well as the insolent cat Behemoth, melted into the air and disappeared, just as the magician had previously disappeared in a chair with faded upholstery.

[ M.A. Bulgakov]|[ Master and Margarita - Table of contents ]|[ Library « Milestones» ]

© 2001, Library« Milestones»

Analysis of the episode “In Variety” from M. Bulgakov’s novel “The Master and Margarita”

The greatest achievement of M. A. Bulgakov is the novel “The Master and Margarita”. This is a special work in which the writer managed to fuse together myth and reality, satirical everyday life and romantic plot, truthful depiction and fantasy, as well as irony and sarcasm. Bulgakov showed in his work four different worlds: earth, darkness, light and peace. Yershalaim in the twenties of the 1st century and Moscow in the twenties of the 20th century - this is the earthly world. The characters and times described in them seem to be different, but the essence is the same. Enmity, distrust of dissident people, and envy reign both in the distant times of slave-owning Rome and in Bulgakov’s contemporary Moscow.

The vices of society are exposed by Woland, in which the author artistically reinterpreted the image of Satan. Woland occupies a significant place in Bulgakov's novel, but no one except the Master and Margarita recognizes Satan in him. Why? The fact is that ordinary people do not allow the existence of something inexplicable in the world. In Bulgakov's portrayal, Woland absorbed many of the features of various spirits of evil: Satan, Beelzebub, Lucifer and others. But most of all Woland is associated with Goethe's Mephistopheles. Both of them are “part of that force that always wants evil and always does good.” But if Mephistopheles is a cheerful and malicious tempter, then Bulgakov’s Woland is much more majestic. Sarcasm, not irony, is his main feature. Unlike Mephistopheles, Woland provides the sophisticated with the opportunity to choose between good and evil, giving them a chance to use their good will. He sees everything, the world is open to him without rouge or makeup. With the help of his retinue, he ridicules and destroys everything that has deviated from goodness, has lied, become corrupted, become morally impoverished, and lost its high ideal. With contemptuous irony, Woland looks at the representatives of the Moscow philistinism, at all these businessmen, envious people, thieves and bribe-takers, at these petty crooks and gray inhabitants who are tenacious at any time.

Of great importance in this regard is the scene in the Variety Hall, or the so-called “black magic session”. The episode begins with the appearance on stage of the most famous entertainer in Moscow, Georges Bengalsky. His flat jokes, claims to wit - all that the author himself calls “nonsense”, serve only as a background for the appearance of Woland. In sharp contrast to the entertainer with all his appearance and behavior, the black magic specialist quietly orders: “The chair is for me,” and, sitting down in it, immediately utters a phrase that is, in essence, the key to understanding the entire episode, as well as the determining reason for Woland’s appearance in Moscow: “Tell me, my dear Bassoon... what do you think, the Moscow population has changed significantly?” And Fagot-Koroviev, answering this question, immediately notes how exactly people have changed. But Woland is not interested in external attributes, but in whether the townspeople have changed internally, whether they have become better.

Trying to answer this question, Bulgakov's Woland turned the Variety Hall into a laboratory for the study of human weaknesses. “The Foreign Consultant” shows tricks, and the way people react to them reveals to him and to us, the readers, the very essence of people.

First of all, this episode exposes the greed of the public and its petty-bourgeois vulgarity, which are especially evident at the moment when “money rain” fell on the astonished spectators. People, in an attempt to grab some money for themselves, lose their human appearance: “Some were already crawling in the aisle, groping under the chairs. Many stood on the seats, catching fidgety, capricious pieces of paper.” People were ready to attack each other because of money. And here each of us involuntarily recalls the words of the famous aria of Mephistopheles: “People die for metal. Satan rules the roost there."

Thus, once again we can draw a parallel between Mephistopheles and Woland, and threads stretch from the scene in the Variety Show to the scene of Woland’s ball, when a whole string of the most notorious and selected scoundrels, thieves, murderers and swindlers passes before us.

Here, in Variety, we see the most ordinary people. They are different: there are both good and bad. They're just people. A woman appears on stage to pick up free shoes. She got them for free, but she also asks: “Won’t they reap?”

The audience present at the black magic session was united by a passionate love of money, excessive curiosity, distrust and passion for revelations. Yes, the citizens have changed a lot in appearance. But internally they are people like people. “Well, frivolous people, well, mercy sometimes knocks on their hearts, ordinary people.” The possibility of easy money is intoxicating, money incites anger, brings out the already accumulated large quantities there is stupidity in the minds of citizens. And Fagot tears off the head of the chatterbox Bengalsky not on his own initiative. This ugly proposal came from the gallery. Even when the severed head called for help from the doctor, no one came to the rescue. And only one compassionate woman from the box shouted: “For God’s sake, don’t torture him!” The audience nevertheless turned out to be merciful and asked Fagot to forgive the unfortunate entertainer and put his stupid head back on.

People were excited and scared by what they saw. Bengalsky's severed head made a terrible impression on them. But as soon as Woland offers women to dress for free in a ladies' store in Parisian fashion, the public immediately forgets about the unpleasant incident. It turns out that people are easy to bribe with some generous offer. People forget other people's misfortunes too quickly.

Along with the selfish and cruel Muscovites, there was one “caring” husband in the hall. During the free distribution of ladies' clothing, he came on stage and asked to give something to his sick wife. As proof that he was really married, the citizen was ready to present his passport. The statement was met with laughter. Was this man really that caring? Of course not. He, like everyone else, was possessed by the thirst for profit. But the reaction of the audience is very revealing. People, trying to get more, do not believe in the good feelings of others.

And yet, after all the checks, Woland concludes that Muscovites are “people like people. They love money, but this has always been the case... Humanity loves money, no matter what it is made of, whether leather, paper, bronze or gold. Well, they are frivolous... well... and mercy sometimes knocks on their hearts... ordinary people... in general, they resemble the old ones..."

Thus, the episode in Variety clearly exposes the vices of the people of that time. In the words of Woland, Bulgakov says that people have not changed in their souls: they still love money, are frivolous, sometimes cruel, and sometimes merciful. It was so in the time of Christ, and in the time of Bulgakov, and it is so now.

The scene in the Variety Show carries the most important semantic load in the novel. Firstly, it allows the reader to better understand the essence of Woland and clarifies why he appeared in Moscow.

In addition, in this episode, as in a distorting mirror, the author gives us the opportunity to see himself. Perhaps, having understood who we really are, we will be able to change at least a little and become better, kinder, more noble. The author, showing the revolutionary reality of the 30s of the 20th century against the background of human history, correlates this time with eternal humanistic values.