Mikhail Bulgakov. The Master and Margarita -
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shoulder. Below were some palm-trees and a balcony. On it sat a shock-haired
young man gazing upwards with a bold, urgent look and holding a fountain pen
in his hands. The wording read : ' All-in Writing Holidays, from two weeks
(short story, novella) to one year (novel, trilogy): Yalta, Suuk-Su,
Borovoye, Tsikhidziri, Makhinjauri, Leningrad (Winter Palace).' There was a
queue at this door too, but not an excessively long one--only about a
hundred and fifty people.
Following the erratic twists, the steps up and steps down of
Griboyedov's corridors, one found other notices : 'MASSOLIT-Management',
'Cashiers Nos. 2, 5, 4, 5,' 'Editorial Board', ' MASSOLIT-Chairman',
'Billiard Room', then various subsidiary organisations and finally that
colonnaded salon where the aunt had listened with such delight to the
readings of his comedy by her brilliant nephew.
Every visitor to Griboyedov, unless of course he were completely
insensitive, was made immediately aware of how good life was for the lucky
members of MASSOLIT and he would at once be consumed with black envy. At
once, too, he would curse heaven for having failed to endow him at birth
with literary talent, without which, of course, no one could so much as
dream of acquiring a MASSOLIT membership card--that brown card known to all
Moscow, smelling of expensive leather and embellished with a wide gold
border.
Who is prepared to say a word in defence of envy? It is a despicable
emotion, but put yourself in the visitor's place : what he had seen on the
upper flоог was by no means all. The entire ground floor of the aunt's house
was occupied by a restaurant-- and what a restaurant! It was rightly
considered the best in Moscow. Not only because it occupied two large rooms
with vaulted ceilings and lilac-painted horses with flowing manes, not only