Disappearances, destruction and death spread through the city like wildfire and Margarita discovers that her lover has vanished in the chaos. Making a bargain with the devil, she decides to try a little black magic of her own to save the man she loves...
While I wish I could get my old University brain back, I think I mushed that up a few years ago, so this isn't going to be a thoughtful literary review on how Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita is a commentary on Soviet Russia.
Instead I can tell you that I fell in love the cover of The Master and Margarita at first sight. I'm not sure if it's the Moscow skyline, the bright blue or the cat mask but I love it, okay? The story itself, not so much. Although I found parts of the text engaging, often when events took an absurd turn (the Devil's ball, the séance and Berlioz's meeting with Annushka...to name a few), my mind couldn't help but drift off in other sections that were perhaps too dull in comparison. I think I would need to re-read The Master and Margarita to fully appreciate Bulgakov's writing, and all of the intricacies laced within the narrative, but I have no intention of doing that at least for another couple of years.
