Mikhail Bulgakov. The Master and Margarita -
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same aunt as she reclined on a sofa. Perhaps he did ; in any case it doesn't
matter.
It matters much more that this house now belonged to MASSOLIT, which
until his excursion to Patriarch's Ponds was headed by the unfortunate
Mikhail Alexandrovich Berlioz. No one, least of all the members of MASSOLIT,
called the place ' Griboyedov House '. Everyone simply called it' Griboyedov
' :
'I spent a couple of hours lobbying at Griboyedov yesterday.'
'Well?'
'Wangled myself a month in Yalta.'
'Good for you! '
Or : ' Go to Berlioz--he's seeing people from four to five this
afternoon at Griboyedov . . .'--and so on.
MASSOLIT had installed itself in Griboyedov very comfortably indeed. As
you entered you were first confronted with a notice-board full of
announcements by the various sports clubs, then with the photographs of
every individual member of MASSOLIT, who were strung up (their photographs,
of course) along the walls of the staircase leading to the first floor.
On the door of the first room on the upper storey was a large notice :
' Angling and Weekend Cottages ', with a picture of a carp caught on a hook.
On the door of the second room was a slightly confusing notice: '
Writers' day-return rail warrants. Apply to M.V. Podlozhnaya.'
The next door bore a brief and completely incomprehensible legend: '
Perelygino'. From there the chance visitor's eye would be caught by
countless more notices pinned to the aunt's walnut doors : ' Waiting List
for Paper--Apply to Poklevkina ';
'Cashier's Office '; ' Sketch-Writers : Personal Accounts ' . . .
At the head of the longest queue, which started downstairs at the
porter's desk, was a door under constant siege labelled ' Housing Problem'.
Past the housing problem hung a gorgeous poster showing a cliff, along
whose summit rode a man on a chestnut horse with a rifle slung over his