12 / CHRONICLESnWhile Stalin was alive, Pasternak was never seriously persecuted,nalthough he never wrote anything glorifying Stalin. (As anmatter of fact, glorifying him didn’t save many mediocre poetsnfrom being deported to the Gulag.) Mandelstam was deported,nbut only after he wrote such a devastatingly stinging poemninsulting Stalin personally that any other poet would have beennshot on the spot for writing it.nAnd then, Bulgakov. After his novel The White Guard wasnpublished in the literary journal Rossiya (subsequently closedndown), it attracted the attention of the celebrated Moscow ArtnTheater, whose head, Stanislavsky, proposed to Bulgakov thatnhe write a play based on his novel.nIn 1926, when Bulgakov’s works were published less andnless, and he was under constant attack from the party critics, hisnplay The Days of the Turbins, based on his novel, wasnproduced at the Art Theater. Not only were White officersnwalking on the stage of Russia’s most renowned theater, whichnin itself was unheard of, these White officers were portrayednwith profound sympathy. The critics now openly called fornBulgakov to be shot and the theater to be shut down. Thenmildest accusation was this (typically Soviet) one: “He yieldednthe rostrum to the enemy!”nDespite these howls, however, Bulgakov was not shot, thentheater was not closed down, and the play was not banned.nThe fact was, Stalin was coming to the theater regularly to seenit. From his personal loge, hidden from other viewers behind anslightly drawn curtain, he, according to the Art Theater’snarchives, saw The Days of the Turbins at least 15 times.nIn literature Stalin’s main interests were poetry (there werenrumors in Moscow that he himself wrote poetry, although hisnpoems were never published—neither while he was alive nornafter his death) and drama. Thus, he personally read everynfilm-script that was being prepared for production, “editing”nthe scripts with a thick blue pencil.nWhat was it that attracted him so in Bulgakov’s play? Just itsnliterary qualities? Or did he derive some pathological satisfactionnfrom the fact that the movement he had destroyednconsisted of decent people. Or maybe, deep in his heart, hendespised the Bolsheviks (after all, he physically annihilatednmore Bolsheviks than Hitier) and, in spite of all the Marxist-nLeninist demagoguery, he wanted to see himself as tsar andnnot as the leader of the proletariat. Interestingly enough, hensoon canceled the exotically romantic uniform of the RednArmy—its high pointed helmets and long, down to the heelsngreatcoats — and dressed Soviet officers in uniforms that werenabsolutely identical to those of the tsarist army.nWhatever all the motivations may have been behind Stalin’snattraction to The Days of the Turbins, they turned out to bencrucial for Bulgakov.n* * *nIn 1930, when his prose had not been published and all hisnplays, except for The Days of the Turbins, had, one after thenother, been banned, Bulgakov, on the personal order of Stalin,nwas appointed a producer-director of the Moscow Art Theater.nThis was a blessing for him since theater, from his youth, hadnbeen his passion.n”The curtain was open and the stage gaped. It was solemn,nmysterious and empty. Its corners were flooded in darkness,nbut in the middle, gleaming faintly, stood a prancing goldennhorse. . . . ‘This is my world’ …” whispers Bulgakovnthrough the lips of his hero, the dramatist Maksudov.nnnAt the Art Theater he worked on the classics, adapting greatnnovels to the stage — Gogol’s Dead Souls, War and Peace,nDon Quixote—producing them and, sometimes, even actingnin them himself Thus, in his production of Dickens’ PickwicknPapers, he brilliantly played the part of the President of thenCourt. Bulgakov’s love for theater, for theatricality, focused onnhis fascination with Moliere. While working as a producerdirector,nhe wrote a biographical novel and a play aboutnMoliere, A Cabal of Hypocrites. In 1936 he staged it at the ArtnTheater, but after several sold-out performances, this play wasnalso banned.nA Cabal of Hypocrites is not only a play about Moliere, it isnalso a play about the very essence of theater (as, in a way,nFellini’s 8-1/2 is a film about the very essence of film), aboutnthe lightness of genius and the leaden heaviness of absolutenpower; about hypocrisy and the splendor of 17th-century Paris.nBut it is also a play about the 20th century, in whichnunintrusively, in a very subtle line, there runs a parallel:nLouis-Moliere and Stalin-Bulgakov.nOne scene containing a conversation between Louis andnMoliere, in which the king gives Moliere permission to stagenTartuffe in Palais Royal, conveys the atmosphere of Bulgakov’snonly conversation with Stalin, when Stalin unexpectedly telephonednhim in the middle of the night. (As it is known, Stalinncalled writers only twice. The first time was his famous call tonPasternak, when he asked Pasternak’s opinion about Mandelstram’snpoetry, and the second time—to Bulgakov.)nThe result of this conversation was Bulgakov’s appointmentnto the Art Theater. However, having done Bulgakov this favor,nStalin, at the same time, banned all his plays except The Daysnof the Turbins (and even this one he permitted in one theaternonly; again, personally enjoying the play, he was categoricallynagainst the masses seeing it), and he flafly refused Bulgakov’snnumerous requests for permission to travel to Paris while henwas working on his novel and play about Moliere.nMany years ago, when I first came to Paris, I walked to thencorner of Richelieu and Therese Streets where stands thenfamous statue of Moliere. I stood beside it and thought of whatnMikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov would have given to be in mynplace. I stood beside this bronze statue of the genius dramatistnand recalled the beginning of Bulgakov’s novel about him,nwhen the author addresses an imagined mid-wife at the birth ofnMoliere:nAnd so, I am wearing this kaftan with enormousnpockets, and in my hand is not a steel but a quill pen.nWax candles are burning in front of me and my brainnis on fire. “Madame” — I say — “please, turn this babyncarefully, don’t forget that he was born prematurely.nThe death of this baby would be a tremendous lossnfor your country!”n”My God, Madame Poquelin will have anothernone!”n”Madame Poquelin will never have another one likenhim, and no other Madame . . . will ever have onenlike him.”n”You amaze me. Monsieur!nMoliere the mocker, author of The Cheats of Scapin;nMoliere the satirist of genius, author of Tartuffe; Moliere thenphilosopher, author of The Misanthrope; these Molieriannqualities were present in Bulgakov, and they were realized withn