Mikhail Bulgakov. The Master and Margarita (1997) -
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the Arbat, he began making his way along the walls, casting fearful sidelong
glances, turning around every moment, hiding in gateways frori time to time,
avoiding intersections with traffic lights and the grand entrances of
embassy mansions.
And all along his difficult way, he was for some reason inexpressibly
tormented by the ubiquitous orchestra that accompanied the heavy basso
singing about his love for Tatiana.
The old, two-storeyed, cream-coloured house stood on the ring
boulevard, in the depths of a seedy garden, separated from the sidewalk by a
fancy cast-iron fence. The small terrace in front of the house was paved
with asphalt, and in wintertime was dominated by a snow pile with a shovel
stuck in it, but in summertime turned into the most magnificent section of
the summer restaurant under a canvas tent.
The house was called 'The House of Griboedov' on the grounds that it
was alleged to have once belonged to an aunt of the writer Alexander
Sergeevich Griboedov.[1] Now, whether it did or did not belong to
her, we do not exactly know. On recollection, it even seems that Griboedov
never had any such house-owning aunt . . . Nevertheless, that was what the
house was called. Moreover, one Moscow liar had it that there, on the second
floor, in a round hall with columns, the famous writer had supposedly read
passages from Woe From Wit to this very aunt while she reclined on a
sofa.
However, devil knows, maybe he did, it's of no importance.
What is important is that at the present time this house was owned by
that same Massolit which had been headed by the unfortunate Mikhail
Alexandrovich Berlioz before his appearance at the Patriarch's Ponds.
In the casual manner of Massolit members, no one called the house The