Healthy Blasphemy
“What Kind of Idea Are You?" Dissenting Discourses in Rushdie and Bulgakov
Salman Rushdie's The Satanic Verses and Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita share a similar concern: the role of the artist in society. Rushdie and Bulgakov see the artist as one who disrupts the quotidian. Without the occasional contention, a society, or any institution-be it collective or individual-may become complacent and prone to tyranny. Rushdie and Bulgakov present the rebellious, uncompromising figure of the artist, and they criticize and abuse the masses for their thoughtless acceptance of one man's, or institution's, vision of the "truth." The artist offers a different truth, one that usually precipitates ridicule, abuse, and sometimes death, while providing an expression of heterodoxy. Rushdie and Bulgakov, therefore, admire the artist's individual expression of truth, yet both criticize a thoughtless devotion to an institutionalization of that truth by unthinking masses.
These fundamental issues addressed in both novels furnish examples of the strength and devotion necessary to challenge general beliefs with creative and original thoughts. This essay explores the role of the artist presented by Rushdie and Bulgakov as one who questions the unquestionable in an effort to discover individual meaning despite repressive orthodox ideologies. This meaning, illustrated in artistic expression, provokes a questioning: "What kind of idea is he? What kind am I?"[1] A juxtaposition of several of each novel's major characters indicates the shared themes of artistic inspiration, production, dissemination, and influence, and illustrates distinct degrees of successful artists and how they transcend their societies' ideologies.
Divine Contention
"To be born again, . . . first you have to die" sings Gibreel Farishta as he and Saladin Chamcha hurdle toward earth from an exploding jumbo jet Bostan at the beginning of The Satanic Verses[2] Indeed, in this literal and metaphorical fall from their previous lives, they are linked, transformed, metamorphosed, reborn. Chamcha relinquishes his adopted, high-brow life as an Englishman and becomes bestial in both appearance and mannerisms, while Gibreel assumes a more angelic form, suiting his divine name: Gibreel the Angel. Equally fantastic is the outset of The Master and Margarita. A typical spring afternoon at Patriarch's Ponds turns fatal for Berlioz and Bezdomny ("Homeless") when the satanic Woland appears. The former literally loses his head, while the latter (like Farishta and Chamcha) becomes existentially homeless after hearing the tale of this mysterious stranger-a tale that passes doubt on the current sanctioned ideologies of communist Russia.[a] Woland's story, like its narrator, begins a chain of fantastic events, not unlike surviving a fall from an exploded airplane, initiating the process of death, rebirth, and self-discovery.
Woland gives Bezdomny something to ponder, expediting the latter's homelessness: Bezdomny wanders away from the intellectual community of shallow pretense that he had accepted willingly and ends up existentially isolated. He, like Farishta and Chamcha, has died to his previous existence by a satanic disruption, and is, thus, ostracized from his former community of writers at MASSOLIT and labeled as mad. Later, when Bezdomny meets master, the latter recognizes Satan's influence and concludes that "Both you and I are mad, there's no point in denying it. He gave you a shock and it sent you mad."[3] Madness then, similar to many postmodern narratives,[b] becomes the catch-phrase for difference and non-conformity-for those possessed by the devil's narrative.
The master confirms both Satan's narrative and identity: "The man you were talking to was with Pontius Pilate . . . and now he has paid a call on Moscow."[3] The master's proof is in his novel: it parallels Woland's narration about Pontius Pilate-a novel the master wrote without having met Woland. This leads one to speculate on the master's inspiration. How, as Gibreel will ask in Verses, did his voice get worked and by whom?
Similar to Bezdomny, Gibreel dreams the Mahound sections of Verses after his fall, and, in so doing, he treads upon sacred ground. Gibreel, also losing his already tenuous grasp on sanity, imagines himself as God's postman, the Archangel Gabriel, who must deliver the word of God to His prophet on earth: Muhammad.[4] Somehow his lines become confused and Satan interjects verses into Gibreel's head, leaving the latter in a state of consternation: "if the dabba had the wrong markings and so went to the incorrect recipient, was the dabbawalla to blame?"[5] Later, Gibreel states, "God knows whose postman I've been," casting further doubt as to the source of Gibreel's narrative(s).[6]
The theme of delivering messages is central to both novels. Another parallel exists between Bezdomny, Farishta, and Chamcha: they are all influential in the public sphere. Bezdomny is a successful poet for MASSOLIT, Farishta makes popular "theologicals" playing divinities from different religions in film, and Chamcha is the man with a 1001 voices on British radio. All three are misdirected victims of others' agendas who deliver the wrong messages. This satanic influence inspires a metaphysical contention between previous ideologies and nascent circumstances that bring those beliefs into question. Dubious "angelicdevilish" sources seemingly influence both the master and Gibreel, and both have, in effect, created their own other wor(l)ds; yet, at the same time, there is a feeling that these other worlds are not solely the creations of their respective artists. Other sources influence both characters, but these sources remain clouded in the fogs of ambiguity throughout both novels.
The metaphysical question must be stressed: both texts' ambiguous origins seem to exist beyond their earthly creators as being both true and sacred.[7] Carol Avins, writing about Master yet applicable to both novels, states that "heretical" narratives, "shared by the devil and the modern mortal," confuse and question the historical, mythic, fictional, and sacred narrative.[8] This ambiguity is never made less opaque in either novel. This idea provokes Avins' question: "Where, then, lies the text's origin-in the Master's [and Ivan's] mind or in Woland's experience?"[7]
The contention: the individual's narrative versus imposed absolute narrative. If the former represents a product of satanic influence, then what good can come of it? Does Satan present a positive, creative influence, contrary to what traditional religious doctrine espouses? A look at the master's and Farishta's heterodox narratives will begin to answer these questions, to elucidate and provide a model for the individual's narrative, and to provide the ontological position of satanic verses.
Yeshua and Mahound
Rushdie writes: "A man who sets himself up is taking on the Creator's role, according to one way of seeing things; he's unnatural, a blasphemer, an abomination of abominations. . . . Or you might simply say: it's just like being a man."[9] "Becoming a man" means, according to Rushdie, having the courage to "understand [himself] and shape [his future] by arguing and challenging and questioning and saying the unsayable; not by bowing the knee, whether to gods or to men."[10] By not showing proper obeisance to the powers that be, the poet emulates Satan in his original refusal to see the world in the way God envisioned it. Salutary change becomes possible when poets attempt new metaphors-a new language that helps to orient them in the quixotic universe of possibilities.[11] Rushdie and Bulgakov embrace and illustrate these possibilities by beginning with their archetypal poets.
The ability to control one's identity begins with language. Yet words have always been dangerous and have, therefore, been strictly controlled by those who have little tolerance for difference. Words have the ability to repress and rebel, mythologize and mystify, imprison and emancipate. Proffer suggests that myth can represent a powerful, negative force; she cites the Spanish Inquisition as the cause of many deaths in the name of God.[12] One could also add to that example the many Islamic jihads and terrorist atrocities used to further the goals of Allah, or colonial expansion meant to civilize the natives. Rushdie and Bulgakov do not question the need for religious expression in humans, but they do wonder at the efficacy of organized, myth-centralized religion.[12] Rushdie and Bulgakov begin the process of reclaiming language with the master's novel and Gibreel's dream.
Ostensibly, Rushdie and Bulgakov are "taking the devil's part against the God of orthodoxy" to express their devilish gospels.[13] Williams and Khan suggest that Verses "is healthily blasphemous," drawing on "a long line of literary opposition to the fictions favored by the state and church."[13] Not only is it healthy to cast a skeptical eye on traditional morality and dogma, it is necessary to question the unquestionable, to doubt rather than embrace blindly if individual expression is ever to be realized. Perhaps Rushdie, and to a lesser extent Bulgakov, is so despised by many of the "true believers" not because he invented heretical lies, but because he told the uncompromising truth. This practice, as mentioned above, may be the primary role of the artist, and Bulgakov and Rushdie, as well as their archetypal inspirations Jesus of Nazareth and Muhammad, want to tell their truths. Rushdie defines this responsibility: "A poet's work [is] to name the unnamable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world and stop it from going to sleep.”[14][c]
Complicity and conformity, however, represent very real aspects of humanity, but they are aspects that must be avoided. Both Rushdie (Gibreel) and Bulgakov (the master)[d] present Mahound and Yeshua as great men who are not immune to human error and doubt. Mahound is just a man, as Hamza reminds Bilal: "keep your faith for God. The Messenger is just a man."[16] Indeed, Mahound, the businessman, succumbs momentarily to temptation in accepting Simbel's deal to acknowledge three other idols alongside Allah. Likewise, Frank states that the master portrays Yeshua strictly as a man not above realizing fear and doubt, and not Christ, or the Messiah of orthodoxy.[17] This humanizing of Jesus and Muhammad[e] has several implications, two of which are particularly important: they are not infallible, and they can empathize with humanity, sharing that common state.[18] Ericson stipulates another reason for removing Jesus and Muhammad from deification: it removes the trite and "stale doctrinal formulas" and revisions the myths.[19] In effect, Rushdie and Bulgakov demythologize Jesus and Muhammad allowing the reader an opportunity to reevaluate the men and not the myths, making these poets "thoroughly human."[20] An all-too-common fault among Christians, writes Ericson, "despite their theology, is to think of Christ as God but not to be able to visualize Jesus as man."[18] Woland said that Jesus, the man, did exist, and the master's story is the proof. Both Bulgakov and Rushdie remove these artists from any lionizing or deification and present humanity with humans.
When Yeshua Ha-Notsri is first introduced in the chapter "Pontius Pilate," he has been arrested and beaten for his simple vision that "there are no evil people on earth" and that all "will pass into the kingdom of truth and justice."[21] During his subsequent questioning, Yeshua discloses two important details: that he has realized his own personal truth, "I reached that conclusion in my own mind," but that that truth has been "untruthfully" transcribed (fictionalized?) by Matthew the Levite, Yeshua's only follower.[22] Pilate first asks Yeshua about his alleged attempt to incite a crowd to destroy the temple. Yeshua denies having said this despite the fact that "It is clearly written down."[23] This represents the first of numerous suggestions in this chapter that if something is written, then it becomes official, Roman truth. Rome's truths are official "facts" and judgments that only need to be recited by those in power to secretaries to become truth: "It only remained to dictate this to the secretary."[24] Pilate's secretary is present throughout Yeshua's interrogation, taking minutes until the proceeding begins to sound unofficial. In the middle of his inquisition, Yeshua uses his obviously keen intuitive powers to empathize with Pilate's headache, his thoughts about death, and his longing for his loyal dog:[25]
"At this moment the truth is chiefly that your head is aching and aching so hard that you are having cowardly thoughts about death. Not only are you in no condition to talk to me, but it even hurts you to look at me. . . . "
The secretary stared at the prisoner, his note-taking abandoned.[26]
Notes
- ↑ See Proffer (1984), Rosenshield (1997), Sahni (1984), Weeks (1989), and Lur’e (1991) for historical considerations of Bulgakov’s Russia.
- ↑ Rosenshield (1997) positions M&M somewhere in between modernist and poststructuralist; he finds the novel does not satisfactorily fall within a unified modernist approach, and prefers a reading that does not attempt to connect the various narrative planes too closely.
- ↑ A trenchant example of this truth is Rushdie’s portrayal of the biblical story of Abraham and his wife, where the latter is left to die in the desert because God “moves in mysterious ways.”[15] Bardolph suggests that nothing in Verses can be taken out of context. This quotation is spoken by the poet Baal, who eventually sells out his convictions for profit and lust. Keeping this in mind, the quotation, nevertheless, is germane in this context.
- ↑ It would be erroneous to assume that Gibreel speaks for Rushdie and the master speaks for Bulgakov, but the novels within the novels are written by the authors’ protagonists which makes the true creator ambiguous at best.
- ↑ Muhammad is not considered divine by orthodox Muslims, as Jesus is by Christians. He is strictly the prophet; yet this fact does not alter the subsequent conclusions.
Citations
- ↑ Rushdie 1988, p. 111.
- ↑ Rushdie 1988, p. 3.
- ↑ 3.0 3.1 Bulgakov 1967, p. 137.
- ↑ King 1989, p. 149.
- ↑ Rushdie 1988, p. 331.
- ↑ Rushdie 1988, p. 112.
- ↑ 7.0 7.1 Avins 1986, p. 276.
- ↑ Avins 1986, pp. 276-77.
- ↑ Rushdie 1988, p. 49.
- ↑ Rushdie 1992, pp. 394–395.
- ↑ Edmundson 1989, p. 70.
- ↑ 12.0 12.1 Proffer 1984, p. 541.
- ↑ 13.0 13.1 Williams & Khan 1989, p. 253.
- ↑ Rushdie 1988, p. 97.
- ↑ Rushdie 1988, p. 95.
- ↑ Rushdie 1988, p. 105.
- ↑ Rushdie 1988, p. 292.
- ↑ 18.0 18.1 Ericson 1974, p. 23.
- ↑ Ericson 1974, p. 22.
- ↑ Hart 1973, p. 171.
- ↑ Bulgakov 1967, pp. 29, 32.
- ↑ Bulgakov 1967, pp. 29, 24.
- ↑ Bulgakov 1967, p. 24.
- ↑ Bulgakov 1967, p. 30.
- ↑ Haber 1974, p. 396.
- ↑ Bulgakov 1967, p. 2.
Works Cited
- Avins, Carol (1986). "Reaching a Reader: The Master's Audience in The Master and Margarita". Slavic Review. 45 (2): 272–285.
- Bulgakov, Mikhail (1967). The Master and Margarita. Translated by Glenny, Michael. New York: Meridian.
- Edmundson, Mark (December 1989). "Prophet of a New Postmodernism: The Greater Challenge of Salman Rushdie". Harper's. pp. 62–71.
- Ericson, Edward E., Jr. (1974). "The Satanic Incarnation: Parody in Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita". The Russian Review. 33 (1): 20–36.
- Haber, Edythe C. (1974). "The Mythic Structure of Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita". The Russian Review. 34 (4): 382–409.
- Hart, Pierre R. (1973). "The Master and Margarita as Creative Process". Modern Fiction Studies. 15: 169–178.
- King, Bruce. "Who Wrote The Satanic Verses?". World Literature Today. 63 (3): 433–335.
- Lur'e, Ia. S. (1991). "Mikhail Bulgakov between Mark Twain and Lev Tolstoy". The Russian Review. 50 (2): 203–210.
- Proffer, Ellendea (1984). Bulgakov: Life and Work. Ann Arbor: Ardis.
- Rosenshield, Gary (1997). "The Master and Margarita and the Poetics of Aporia: A Polemical Article". The Slavic Review. 56 (2): 187–212.
- Rushdie, Salman (1992). Imaginary Homelands: Essays and Criticism 1981–1991. London: Granta.
- — (1988). The Satanic Verses. New York: Viking.
- Sahni, Kalpana (1984). A Mind in Ferment: Mikhail Bulgakov's Prose. New Delhi: Arnold-Heinemann.
- Weeks, Laura D. (1989). "In Defense of the Homeless: On the Uses of History and the Role of Bezdomnyi in The Master and Margarita". The Russian Review. 48 (1): 45–65.
- Williams, Mark; Khan, G.I. Abdur Razzaq (1989). "Blasphemy and Cultural Sensitivity: Two Views of Rushdie's Satanic Verses". Landfall 170. 43 (2): 252–259.