Mikhail Bulgakov

Today while lying in bed with a cold, sipping on some ginger tea and gulping down my supplements, I received a wonderful gift. Giving gifts can be tricky – because guessing taste needs a mix of judgement and luck; besides even if you do know a person’s taste what then? After the second box of tea, third kitsch trinket (etc.), gift ideas run dry. This is a constant challenge.


But this was a wonderful surprise delivered by my wonderful husband from a friend at his office.  The gift was a book, The Master and Margarita.

If you have never read this title but do love to read, then I suggest you head immediately to your favourite bookstore and sink into the first chapter. In all senses of the word, this story is fantastic. I haven’t read much Russian literature (Anna Karenina is my list topper for ‘need to read’) but, from what I’ve read, they pen a trippy ride. Man, those Russians can write!

Anyhow – I had woken up thinking, “My goodness, yesterday was wonderful but today I’m stuck with a cold,” and couldn’t find much good in it. Now the silver lining is clear. If I hadn’t had my cold, then I wouldn’t have been in bed, and therefore (objective qualitative inference has led me to this conclusion) I would not have been in the perfect setting to receive the perfect book. By my calculations it was approximately five years, four months since I last read Bulgakov’s novel. It’s about time for another dip into that pond.

Hard cover too. 🙂 Extra exciting.

My cold is clearing. This I cannot attribute exclusively to the gift, because I absolutely must credit my acupuncturist. I arrived at her office feeling sluggish, stuffed, and grey as the sky; I reached my bed an hour later with the sniffles receding and now they’re gone. Mixed with my mom’s supplements, a pot of ginger tea, kind attention from Zsolt, and a little bed rest – that acupuncture(pressure) really makes a difference. I don’t even mind that she finds painful points all over my body and rubs them till I can’t stand it. (In fact, I kinda like it – fun!) “Pain means it’s working”, so she assures me.

And now, cherry on the top of my  ice cream sunday: Zsolt is playing Ennio Morricone’s  “L’avventuriero” on repeat in the other room, and that music fills me right from the inside.

Yesterday was lovely. I made fruit salad, rhubarb crumble, and chilli for Zsolt. We took a long walk followed with a little dancing to Frank Sinatra. We went out and pub quizzed with friends over at Trago. The entire day felt good, good, and good. So good to be normal.

Today stared miserably with a cold and some sweats – but that’s England for you, things change with every push of wind. Outside there are clouds, and it’s still fizzing rain . . . but inside, here in this bedroom and under these covers, I feel pretty good.  [Nothing befunds me, not even not knowning what befund means . . . however, according to my online dictionary I am most certainly using this word incorrectly. What do you think, Tony?]

My cold is finally passing. But just to be sure – I’m taking a nap!

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2 thoughts on “Mikhail Bulgakov

  1. From what I know, and that is all made up, you used “befund” in it’s correct connotation. And by the way, glad to see you have discovered a good book. You are right, those crazy Russians can sure write. Quiet Flows The Don was my first Russian novel, good stuff!

    Tony

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