The Assemblywomen - Aristophanes

Aristophanes (446 BC- 386 BC)

Athens. Sometime during the Corinthian War (395-386), the Assembly has traditionally been poorly attended and ordinary citizens have been discouraged from speaking up, but after Agyrrhius successfully proposes the introduction of assembly pay, for the first time the Assembly becomes crowded and men rush to be the first 6000 into the assembly and receive their 3 obols. This creates an atmosphere of political experimentation, where endless theories are created and ideal systems of government are debated. It is in this climate that Aristophanes writes his satire.

Our heroine is Praxagora, and like Lysistrata, she has grown jaded by the ineptitude of the men to govern society and decides to take matters into her own hands. But while Lysistrata's solution is temporary, withhold sex until the men call a truce to the Peloponnesian War and return home to a more sedentary lifestyle, Praxagora wants a completely new system of government. She decides to create a communal utopia under female governance. Polis management should be like household management and her plan is to replace the polis with an expansive household. As she prepares to approach the Assembly, dressed as a man, her compatriots likewise dressed and in tow, she hones her argument, demonstrating why women would be natural leaders.

After a long monologue arguing for the steadfastness and predictability of women, who choose to stay with the tried and true customs rather than this constant political muddling she ends with these final points:

"Consider only these points: First, as mothers they'll want to protect our soldiers; and second who would be quicker to send extra rations than the one who bore you? There's nobody more inventive at getting funds than a woman, and when in power she'll never get cheated, since women themselves are past masters at cheating. I'll pass over my other points. Adopt my resolution and you'll lead happy lives."

The Assemblymen, after being successfully duped by Praxagora's fake beard, believe her to be an intelligent male orator with an intriguing political solution to their current stagnation. Praxagora humbly takes the role of government officiator and rather than staying true to the customs of yore, instead changes everything. No more work, the slaves will see to everything. The government halls will turn into dining rooms for the now communal dinners, all private property will be abolished and citizens will be encouraged to bring their belongings to the government for proper utilization. The family unit is no longer necessary, instead all older women will be seen as mothers and all older men as fathers, and since no one will be able to verify their paternity no crimes will be committed against the elders and all will equally support and care for them. Any man may copulate with any woman, as long as he first makes the old and ugly a priority...and here is where things begin to break down.

What begins as a utopian sexual revolution goes terribly awry and becomes more of a sexual revulsion. Even when the only form of taxation is obligatory sex with the old and ugly, this tax is ultimately too high a cost to pay, even for paradise.

To illustrate this point we are first introduced to Blepyrus, Praxagora's constipated old codger of a husband. As he wakes up and finds his wife and his cloak missing he wanders outside to whisper sweet nothings to his bowels. A neighbor is produced as a foil for him to continue to explicitly talk about his digestive system. The only thing that can momentarily preoccupy him from his troubles, is the thought that he's slept through the assembly and therefore won't receive his 3 obols for doing nothing but taking up space.  When Praxagora returns and tells them new legislation has passed making working unnecessary, all political necessities will be seen to by the women and all manual labor will be seen to by the slaves, Blepyrus is in a state of disbelieving ecstasy. His life can now be as carefree as that of a little boy, with his only concern now being where to eat and who to have sex with. When he mentions his concern that no one would want to have sex with him, he being an an ugly old man, Praxagora reassures him that having sex with him is now compulsory. And with a sigh of relief he wanders off to find some appreciative young maidens.

We then meet an old woman and young maiden both sitting and waiting for the first eligible bachelor to head their way. As the old woman tries to sing a melody to entice a young suitor her way the young girl laughs at her attempts to be desirable. It is beyond belief that the old hag would every be slept with, even under government authority and the young girl, coquettishly sits back, confidant in her good looks and many physical attributes.

Enter Epigenes, bemoaning this new edict. After dining at the communal feast, he hopes to take his pleasure with a young woman he's had his eye on for some time, but doesn't see a way around the compulsory sex with the old hags that seem to come out of nowhere each more haggish that the last. By law the ugliest have first priority, but when two of the women are both of equal abhorrence, he finds himself being dragged away by both simultaneously, it being impossible to resolve the question of priority.

Second Old Woman: Hey You! Where are you taking this man, in violation of the law? It's plainly stated that he's got to sleep with me first.

Epigenes: Good grief, where did you pop out of, you apparition of damnation? This horror is more revolting that the last one!

Second Old Woman: Get over here!

Epigenes: Don't let her drag me away, I beg you!

(Girl runs away)

Second Old Woman: It's not me but the law that drags you away.

Epigenes: No, it's some kind of Empusa (bogey-woman) covered with one big blood blister!

As his protestations are ignored and the second woman is dragging him away along comes the third:

Third Old Woman: Hey You! Where are you going with her?

Epigenes: I'm not going anywhere; I'm being kidnapped! But whoever you are, bless you if you don't just stand by and watch me be tormented (turning to see Third Old Woman) Heracles! Pan! Corybantes! Dioscuri! Here's another horror, and much more revolting that the last! Please, someone tell me what in the world it is! A monkey plastered with makeup? A hag arisen from the underworld?

The other episode that illustrates the complexity of a communal society deals with the issue of the "selfish" man. What happens when someone refuses to give up their property and take part in a communal society and yet still goes to the communal feasts enjoying the pleasures of the new system without paying any of the associated costs? Although this scenario is not resolved, and the "selfish" man goes off to the banquet while managing to avoid turning over his property, Praxagora argues that private property makes no sense in a communal society, since everyone will be amply provided for.

Aristophanes, rather than creating a pragmatic political treatise instead creates a comic world where he can obliquely critique the contemporary Athenian political institution. It's interesting how similar some of his ideas created in jest are to those of Plato's Republic. Plato argues for a similar abolition of riches to create an egalitarian society that has abandoned the traditional family construct. With no concept of family there can be no nepotism. With no concept of ownership and private property, there will be no inequality or motive for civic selfishness. While Aristophanes creates a hilarious predicament of compulsory sex, Plato crafts a system of eugenics and social cohesion based on dictated breeding criteria.

The Heart of the Matter - Graham Greene

Graham Greene (1904-1991)

I am now completely enamored with Greene. I didn't want this book to end, or rather I wanted to crawl into the book, shake Scobie, give him a slap or two and say "Pull yourself together man! She's not worth it! They're not worth it!..." But instead, I was forced to sit idly by, while Henry Scobie came one step closer to his own crafted destruction, an accomplice to his despair and an accessory to his fate.

This is the second Greene book I have read, the first The Power and the Glory, left me somewhat nonplussed. The narrative was engrossing, but the characters seemed a little out of reach, a little underdeveloped perhaps, and even though they battled against their own private hell and against their own personal demons, neither felt tangible, their sorrows felt contained to the pages of the book, rather than the creeping sensation of Scobie's pain that wraps it's tendrils around your heart.

Henry Scobie is a Holden Caulfield type, alienated by his need to protect and care for those around him, his purpose echoes that of Holden, if he could stand on a cliff in a field of rye, catching the little children as they come hurtling towards the edge, that is what he would do, and in a sense does. His one definitive purpose is to cause his loved ones minimal harm, to protect them from the pain and heartache of the world, at whatever cost. As he plods through the drudgery and monotony of his daily life, his duties as a police officer of a small British colony somewhere on the west coast of Africa, create the backbone of his persona. He has been without leave for over 15 years, he endures the torpor, the isolation and all with the gravitas of a good catholic.  A man of character and honor, he has preferred his work over everything else, and as the book opens, despite his sacrifice and diligence, he has been passed over for the commissionership.

As he goes home to his nagging wife, the sweat drips off his brow, and he prepares himself for the habitual misery he has come to endure. His wife is dissatisfied with Scobie's ineffectual career, she desires prestige and a bit of conspicuous consumption here and there rather than the scrimping and saving and character without accolades. She is more disappointed than Scobie at his failure to obtain the commissionership and she, needing a change of scenery, adds her need to get away with some friends to the more luxurious South Africa to her repertoire of nagging.

Scobie has kept his life simple and straightforward up to this point, careful not to embroil himself in any untoward behavior, but he has no money and so one simple, careful step at a time he slowly becomes entangled in an unnavigable web of lies and dishonesty. And yet after the departure of Louise, it is not long before another has taken her place, another person he must provide comfort for and protect and when Louise unexpectedly returns, he must now balance the needs of all those he loves, like a tightrope walker, balancing between hope and despair. Unable to be honest with his wife, and unwilling to renounce his mistress he find himself committing the unpardonable sin, receiving communion in a state of mortal sin.

Now completely desperate to unshackle himself the constant never-ending demands of his loved ones and the incessant reminder of his damnation, and the shame of unrepentance, he decides to free himself. He carefully feigns illness, play acting angina so that Louise will receive the life insurance he has been quietly accumulating. His death will free Louise from the knowledge of his affair, the desperate fact that he loves another, simultaneously freeing Helen from the quiet charade of their love.

Yet, even this doesn't go according to plan, and after he has carefully choreographed everything down to the last seconds of his life, the moment he is gone, we realize Louise has known all along about the affair, and his carefully constructed journal entries only serve to toss suspicions on his sudden death.  Louise cannot believe her husband would throw away his life, that he would commit the one unforgivable sin for anything so purposeless as love...but life is short and she quickly moves on, exchanging Scobie for another man and leaving his fate to God.

A Hero of Our Time - Mikhail Lermontov

Lermontov (1814 -1841)

Written at the end of Lermontov's career, between 1838-1840, A Hero of Our Time embraced the new transitional stage in Russian literature when "verse surrendered its pre-eminence to the story and the novel, and the great age of Russian literature began." (Foote, 1965) A contemporary of Pushkin, Lermontov became the singular Russian romantic poet and his writing emulated the zeitgeist of Byronism and the culture of the Superfluous Man, which Russian society suffered from through the 1840's and 1850's.

The Byronic hero is often born into wealth, he is displaced by a culture that lacks the ability to understand or appreciate him; to work is unnecessary and there is no cause worth fighting for, their lack of self-realization creates a torpor of ineffectual passivity, as they spend their time waiting for life to end, they occupy themselves with anything that can momentarily hold their attention. These superior heroes are set apart from the society they are born into,  leaving them destined to tread water, the flotsam of a purposeless destiny.

Pechorin, the Hero is a young passionate 25 year old, who having gleaned all he can from life has grown bored and embittered. Like Goncharov's  Oblomov, Pechorin is overcome by the vast meaninglessness of life, but unlike Oblomov, who's listlessness borders on an apathetic life of sloth, Pechorin wreaks havoc on people's lives for his own amusement. But even this fails to pique his interest indefinitely and after toying with people he moves on to his next victim, not really seeking them out, but rather waiting for his victims, mostly women, to unsuspectingly cross his path.

A Hero of Our Time is comprised of five short character studies, presenting Pechorin for our assessment, and at first glance he is a narcissistic young man, convinced of his own perfect knowledge and mastery of life, doused with a touch of fashionable disenchantment., not unlike Pushkin's Eugene Onegin.  His pride and arrogance are worn almost as a type of cross, he is burdened by his brilliance and his experiences have left him tired and jaded. He seems to have a particular dislike for women, conquering their chastity and virtue one hurdle at a time, only to quickly grow bored, leaving women to pine for him wherever he goes.

In the first sketch, "Bela" after catching a glance of the heroine, he plots a way to get her with Bela's brother who happens to be hopelessly in love with a horse.

"All right, I swear you shall have the horse. But I want your sister Bela in return. Karagyoz (the horse) will do as bride money for her. I hope this deal suits you."

After the least romantic wooing in history, Bela sits in her new room wrapped in a shawl huddling in the corner. Pechorin, at least has the decency to not force himself immediately on her and instead waits for her to warm to the idea that she now belongs to him. ("For she'll belong to no one else!" he added banging his fist on the table.") When Pechorin's friend asks why he is certain she'll come around, Pechorin laughs and says a woman will do anything for presents, ie. scraps of colored rags, and after some time and many presents Pechorin says in his most romantic speech yet:

"Listen, my fairy, you know very well you'll be mine sooner or later, so why torment me?"

Eventually, Bela finally succumbs to Pechorin's incessant pleas and in a nano second has become the dutiful, if not a tad jealous little house mistress. But in the same nano second of her transformation, Pechorin has changed as well. Now that the chase is over, and perhaps a bit too easy, he has grown bored and stays out late "hunting."

Bela, who has been traded for a horse by her brother and now exiled from her family has lost everything. When she becomes somewhat emotional about the fact that Pechorin has obviously lost interest in her, Pechorin's friend, Maxim, says:

"Look Bela, You can't expect him to spend his whole time here tied to your apron strings. He's a young man and fond of the chase. He'll go off hunting, then come back. But if you're going to mope (!) he'll soon grow tired of you."

Bela, eventually, having been conquered, is worthless and Pechorin moves on, and in an Ecclesiastical aside he notes:

"A native girl's love is little better than that of a lady of rank. The ignorance and simplicity of the one are as tiresome as the coquetry of the other. If you like, I'm still in love with her. I'm grateful for a few moments of relative bliss. I'd give my life for her. But she bores me. I don't know whether I'm a fool or a scoundrel, but one thing I'm sure of is that I'm just as much to be pitied as she is (!), perhaps even more. My soul's been corrupted by society. My imagination knows no peace, my heart has no satisfaction. I'm never satisfied. I grow used to sorrow as easily as I do pleasure and my life gets emptier every day."

Although Lermontov was greatly influenced by Pushkin, and consciously tried to create a link between his work and Eugene Onegin by mimicking Pushkin's naming technique (Onegin is derived from the North Russian river the Onega, while Pechorin is derived from another northern river the Pechora) and now had the  room to flex his literary muscles by writing in the more expansive prose...Onegin is the better novel. Everyone knows Onegin is a bastard, and Tatyana in a way is unconquerable, and becomes the true heroine of the novel, for her ability to survive and her ultimate steadfastness. The tables are turned and as the book ends it's Onegin that must spend the rest of  his days mourning his loss and filled with regret. Lermontov's women, by contrast are always swooning and fainting for Pechorin. They are one dimensional, somewhat offensive character studies of women in general, putting up barely a fight for their virtue and honor and in the end Pechorin, as bored as ever after finally solving all of life's mysteries rides off into a metaphysical sunset.

July's People - Nadine Gordimer

Nadine Gordimer (1923-)

The narrative begins in chaos. Jumping from past and present, weaving between characters' thoughts and memories. As South African apartheid begins to unravel, the tenuous societal structure collapses, as does the identity of Maureen and Bam Smales. The tension and unrest turns to riots, the Smales have fled with their faithful servant of 15 years, July, to his home in the bush. As the family is displaced, with only seconds to flee and without time to pack, Bam grabs a gun while his wife grabs a few coveted rolls of toilet paper and in their chosen items they begin to reveal their prejudices. For Bam, the assumption is that July's people could be dangerous. The gun not only provides a sense of protection, but as he is stripped of his authority it asserts a sense of power that he is otherwise incapable of possessing. For Maureen, the assumption is that July's people are primitive and dirty. As she tries to retain a sense of order, a sense of the way things were, she is caught in the interstices between the reality of their new existence and her perception of who she is.

Both Maureen and Bam would have previously considered themselves liberals. They weren't racist or prejudiced. This war, this uprising, it wasn't their fight. They didn't profess to belong to the superior race, or rather they didn't proselytize their superiority. "They had fled the fighting in the streets, the danger for their children, the necessity to defend their lives in the names of ideals they didn't share in a destroyed white society they didn't believe in..." They treated their servants with respect, if not dignity...and yet here in the bush, surrounded by deprivation, slowly their world is turned upside down and they realize that their role as "master," now taken away, has left a vapid hole and exposed a subterranean prejudice they must fight and contend with as they try to come to terms with the ambiguities of their new life in their isolated surroundings.

For their safety the Smales must remain in the village, and they find themselves in the uncomfortable position of being completely dependent on July for their survival. July takes the car and disappears and for the first time Bam and Maureen are untethered. They are no longer masters of their sole possession and only means of  escape. When July returns, bringing them supplies, they are unable to assert their authority and are powerless to impose their will. For the first time it is July who makes decisions and determines their needs. Bam, stripped of his authority, unable to provide for his family is completely emasculated. He attempts to regain his footing, and with the "white man's face, the old, sardonic, controlled challenge of the patron" he demands to know where and why July took their car. But the threats fall flat. July was out, attending to their needs as he had for the last 15 years. Although they could ask him to return the keys of the car, they don't, and July slowly begins to wear the mantle of authority they have so recently been stripped of.

Maureen attempts to retrieve the keys from July. She wants him to give them to her without having to ask for them. She tells July she wants the rubber floor mat from the car and puts outs her hand, not a request, but an assumption. When she realizes she must give them back, she wanders toward July's hut and waits for him to come to her for their tete a tete.

"When he appeared he was merely coming over to her, unhurried, on a sunny day. Nothing sullen or resentful about him; her little triumph in getting him to come turned over inside her with a throb and showed the meanness of something hidden under a stone."

She asks him whether or not they treated him well, she needs his affirmation, she needs to hear that they gave him everything that he needed, that they treated him fairly, but instead he begins to expose the traces of meanness that have existed all along in the mistrustful glances. He has been their "boy" whether or not they acknowledge the fact. Maureen, hurt by the biting truth of his remarks, threatens to expose his unfaithfulness to his wife. But while her victory gives her a small sense of empowerment, it strips what little is left of her own dignity.

What bothers the Smales most isn't July's independence, but the uncovering and exposing of a version of racism they never expected to find. The version that pays servants always and on time, but refuses to allow the luxury of their own sitting room for fear it will always be crowded with unwanted visitors. The version that provides their servant with a bedroom apartment, but only a single chair to further discourage guests. The version that controls every aspect of July's life as a rite, a subtle almost invisible form of ownership. As they struggle to come to terms with these oscillating emotions they regard each other with disgust.

The subtle brilliance of this book is that rather than having a family of racists learn the value and humanity of the natives they are are forced to live among, instead a family of liberals must contend with the demons of racism heretofore unexpected, leaving them conscious stricken and unfamiliar.

The Song of Roland

The Song of Roland recounts the Battle of Roncesvalles in 778 in a style that would put Quentin Terantino to shame and was probably written for a similar target demographic. Claimed to be the oldest surviving work of French literature, this epic poem depicts the betrayal of the Franks and their subsequent battle to victory.

The poem begins "Charles the king, our mighty emperor has been in Spain for all of seven years.." at this point all pagan nations from France to the sea have been conquered, all but the mountain city, Saragossa. "Marsilla holds it; he does not love God, but serves Mohammed and invokes Apollo. No matter what he does, his ruin will come." An inauspicious beginning for the Saracens.

Charlemagne and his men are exhausted from battle and apprehensive about the size of the Saracen army and decides to send an envoy to ascertain whether or not this last bastion of pagans will throw in the towel and convert to Christianity. As Charlemagne ponders whom to send on this somewhat dangerous mission, his lords and barons seem hesitant to claim such a mission for themselves, and then the much lauded Roland decides to nominate his stepfather...much to the stepfather, Ganelon's, chagrin. Ganelon is enraged.  As he musters his courage and gathers his gear the hatred drips off his brow. "His arrogance will be the end of him, for every single day he teases death. If someone killed him...we might all have peace." And thus the germ of an idea is planted, and Ganelon ruminates, chewing the cud of his idea as he makes his way to meet Marsilla, he promises under his breath that he will see to it that Roland dies.

As Ganelon is presented to Marsilla he paints Charlemagne's demands as unglamorously as possible. " Thus noble Charlemagne requires of you that you receive the holy Christian faith, and he will give you half of Spain in fief." Obviously Marsilla is insulted, growing colorless with rage he is about to strike Ganelon, when he is told this messenger might not have France's best interests at heart. After a short tete a tete, Genelon has told the Saracen's how they can ambush the rear guard of Charlemagne's army and as a bonus kill Roland in the process. Charlemagne will be so distraught over losing his nephew, that he will have no desire to ever fight again.

"If someone were to cause the death of Roland, then Charles would lose the right arm from his body; the awe-inspiring host would cease to be, no more would Charles assemble such a force and Tere Majur would then be left in peace..."

It doesn't exactly go according to plan and Ganelon officially has become the worlds worst stepfather. Although the Franks are ambushed, they fight so valiantly they are able to do considerable damage to the Saracen army. Rather than risk any remote possibility of cowardice, Roland refuses to blow his olifant and call for help..."May God forbid that it be said by any man alive I ever blew my horn because of pagans..."

There might be a tiny bit of confusion between bravery and bravado and after receiving a little lecture from Olivier regarding prudence and recklessness, Roland decides they have lost enough men, there is no hope for the rear guard, but if Charlemagne would come with all his army to defend their honor and avenge their name, they would certainly be victorious. Roland blows his olifant, bursting his temples and continues to fight until he is the last man standing. Slowly he crawls to a hill, attempts to destroy his sword so that it won't fall into the hands of  the pagans and then as he leans himself against a tree facing the enemy he dies, even in death not turning his back on his oppressors.

When Charlemagne finally arrives, he finds only the dead bodies of even his most valiant soldiers. The Franks arms themselves and pursue the fleeing Saracen army, chasing them into the Ebro river where they drown en masse.

Some of the more horrific Terantino-esque moments were: "He breaks his gilt, fleuron-emblazoned shield, bursting both his eyeballs from his head- his brain comes tumbling downward to his feet -..." or  "the count swings down with such tremendous force , he shears away his helmet to the nasal and slashes through his nose and mouth and teeth, his trunk and through his coat of jazeraint, his gilded saddle, both its silver bows and deep into the backbone of his horse..." YIKES!

I also thought the blatant propaganda was interesting. Each time a pagan dies, Satan is waiting near by to drag his spirit into hell unlike the lucky Franks who not only have St. Michael and the angel Gabriel fighting for them, but they are all guaranteed a seat in Holy Paradise next to the Innocents. While the Saracens are presented as cowards, fleeing and screaming "we can't take any more!" The Franks dutifully and gloriously follow in pursuit.

While a little heavy in the skull crushing department,  I  found this poem vastly more engrossing than Beowulf...and I now, like Charlemagne and all his army can cry "Monjoy" when charging the enemy into battle, something I'm sure will come in handy one of these days.

The Master and Margarita - Mikhail Bulgakov

Mikhail Bulgakov (1891-1940)

The aftermath of Stalin's regime left a trail of destruction in its wake, both structurally and psychologically; although Bulgakov finished writing The Master and Margarita in the 1940's it wasn't officially published until the 1960's when The Era of Stagnation under Brezhnev was just beginning, creating an atmosphere of vapidity that made an interesting counterpoint to Bulgakov's novel. Under Stalin, Russian life was filled with a grim sense of helplessness and unpredictability, friends and family were encouraged to report unpatriotic behavior on their loved ones, neighbors would accuse neighbors of anything simply to be able to take over another room and expand their apartments;  the climate under Stalin was filled with suspicion and dread. At any moment a loved one could disappear into the Gulag Archipelago, perhaps never to be seen or heard from again. 

In 1946, the Soviet Union passed the Zhdanov Doctrine, dividing the world into two camps, that of the imperialistic world headed by the United States, and the democratic, headed by the Soviet Union. The main principle of the Zhdanov Doctrine was summarized by the phrase "The only conflict that is possible in Soviet culture is the conflict between good and best." Meaning, that for Soviet artists and writers and the intelligentsia they could either conform to the party line or they would suffer the repercussions...

The Master and Margarita follows three interwoven narratives. The first being that Professor Woland (i.e. Satan) and his retinue and the havoc they reek on Moscow. It is a satire of the demonic vs. the literary powers and the imposed normalcy of Soviet life under the Great Terror of the 1930's. The professor is introduced interrupting a discussion between a poet and an editor that work for a Soviet anti-religious propaganda magazine, they are disputing the existence of Christ. Woland, who saunters up holding a cane with the head of a poodle, (one of the many references to Faust's Mephistopheles) after a few pleasantries begins to dismantle their arguments against the plausibility of the Christ story and the existence of God. As a representative of the "other world" Woland argues that God must exist, without heaven there can be no hell, or rather God exists because the evidence of Satan is inarguable. He then begins his foray into Muscovite life, upending the predictable and followed by a posse of buffoons reeking havoc and disorder on all they come into contact with, specifically the literati.

One of Woland's arguments for the Christ story, is that he was there, so therefor it must have happened; an argument that tends to confirm the suspicion of his insanity rather than the veracity of his theory. He then begins a narration about Pontius Pilate, thus introducing us to the second narrative. The Pontius Pilate narrative hinges on one of Bulgakov's aphorisms, "Cowardice is the most terrible of vices.." Arguing that it was simply cowardice that caused Pilate to agree to the death sentence for Yeshua,  who seemed little more than a pacifistic philosopher. Although neither Stalin or Caesar make appearances in the narrative in person, they are omnipresent in their imposed inarguable will that has become the measure of morality and the construct of reality. During his brief encounter with Yeshua, Pilate becomes certain that this man, while perhaps possessing some supernatural power, is not harmful in the slightest. But when Yeshua says something that does not conform to the party line :

"Among other things", the prisoner recounted, "I said that all authority is violence over people, and that a time will come when there will be no authority of the Caesars, nor any other authority. Man will pass into the kingdom of truth and justice, where generally there will be no need for any authority."

Pilate, after hearing this blasphemy against party doctrine, has no choice but to hand Yeshua over to be murdered, while a murderer, Barabbas, is released to go free. Apparently murder is less of a threat than controversial philosophies. After Yeshua is led away to be crucified, Pilate is overcome with the shame of his cowardice. He must then spend two thousand years in limbo reliving his shame and muttering the same mantra under his breath over and over again.

"He says that even the moon gives him no peace, and that his is a bad job. That is what he always says when he is not asleep, and when he sleeps he dreams one and the same thing: there is a path of moonlight, and he wants to walk down it and talk with the prisoner Ha-Nozri, because, as he insists, he never finished what he was saying that time, long ago, on the fourteenth day of the spring month of Nisan. But alas, for some reason he never manages to get on to this path, and no one ever comes to him. Then there's no help for it, he must talk to himself."

The third narrative is about the writer, representing the intelligentsia, responsible for writing truth and upholding the triumph of poetry, imagination and the free world over the terror of oppression. This writer, the master, has been struggling with a manuscript about Pontius Pilate for years, he has begun over and over and has finally been driven to madness, leaving all he has behind him, including the beautiful Margarita, his helpmate and companion. He has checked himself into an asylum, where he waits for the confidence to challenge the rule of terror that has strangled the artists and writers around him, he waits in limbo for his salvation.

The characters of the Master and Margarita are based on Bulgakov and his second wife, Elena Sergeevna, who like Margarita, was married to a high ranking official. Elena and Margarita encourage the writers to survive, they believe in them and in the importance of their work. While the master is hidden away in the asylum, Margarita makes a bargain with Satan in order to find the master and restore him to his little basement where they have spent many countless hours together working on their manuscript,  for it is as much hers as it is his. Margarita is the true heroine of this book, representing true love and personal courage, willing to defy everything that comes between her and the master, whether it is societal conventions, party politics or the constrictions of reality. She embarks on a journey into the bowels of hell, becomes the Queen of Satan's ball and must give up her identity, as she is stripped of her own being in exchange for the body of a witch, and all this to pursue the master, so that she might help him to finish his story and find rest.

When finally, Woland has agreed to give both the master and Margarita peace, he takes them on a journey where they must first leave all that they are and have behind and that culminates with the meeting of the object of the master's obsession, Pilate.

"The master seemed to have been expecting this, as he stood motionless and looked at the seated procurator  he cupped his hands to his mouth and cried out so that the echo leaped over the unpeopled and unforested mountains: "You're free! You're free! He's waiting for you!"

Releasing Pilate from his two thousand years in limbo to finally finish his discussion with the philosopher, while simultaneously discovering peace for himself in limbo where the artist will finally be free, surrounded by the stillness and peace not granted to him in life.

100 Years of Solitude - Gabriel García Márquez

Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1927-)

The book opens with this line:
"Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice."

And a family tree on the other side of the page, a foreboding and tangled lineage that I went back to over and over again until I gave up, threw in the towel and realized the specific characters are secondary to the plot.

At once the reader is pulled into another universe of magical realism, where women disappear into the heavens wrapped in bed sheets. I was immediately drawn into this world, where in an attempt to find a new world and leave their past behind them, Jose Arcadio Buendia and his wife Ursula, leave everything they have ever know to travel through virgin territory and finally after having a vision of a city of mirrors that would reflect the world in and about it, they found Macando at the riverside of a wandering jungle.

The narrative constantly shifts from past to present and as more and more generations are introduced all with confusing matrilineage I began to feel like I was reading something better written but slightly less interesting then a genealogy record. Magical realism sometimes makes me uncomfortable, nothing is stable or predictable and like a Murakami novel fish could start raining from the sky at any moment. As a reader this requires a lot of trust, and after 200 pages or so I stopped fighting it and let the world of Macando sweep me into its reality. By the last 50 pages I couldn't put it down and was hoping it would never end. I wanted to crawl into Macando and never leave, walk down its muddy streets and go door to door with Arcadio soliciting raffle tickets for broken hopes and impossible dreams.

The basic summation of the plot is that the same people are born over and over again as the family slowly  devolves and what is left of their hopes and dreams lies shriveled and naked and slowly carried away by a procession of ants...

While the family struggles to keep up appearances, generations have passed and the family lacks the grandeur it once possessed.

"Sitting at the head of the table, drinking a chicken broth that landed in her stomach like an elixir of  resurrection, Meme then saw Fernanda and Amaranta wrapped in an accusatory halo of reality. She had to make a great effort not to throw at them their prissiness, their poverty of spirit, their delusions of grandeur."

Each family member embarks on their own solitary crusade, whether it is the constant fight to keep the weeds from devouring the house and the ants from tearing down the foundation of their lives, or a hopeless political battle between the liberals and conservatives who no longer remember why they're fighting, or a special smoldering hatred for one and love for another, the characters pick up their crosses and fight their battles alone.

"At times it pained her to have an outpouring of misery follow its course, and at times it would make her so angry that she would prick her fingers with the needles, but what pained her most and enraged her most and made her the most bitter was the fragrant and wormy guava grove of love that was dragging her toward death....

...The world was reduced to the surface of her skin and her inner self was safe from all bitterness. It pained her not to have had that revelation many years before when it had still been possible to purify memories and reconstruct the universe under a new light and evoke without trembling Pietro Crespi's smell of lavender at dusk and rescue Rebeca from her slough of misery, not out of hatred or love but because of the measureless understanding of solitude."

While each generation attempts to conquer their own individual ineffectual demons, they are overwhelmed with the isolation of their crusades and confronted with the futile lack of progress. When the family finally produces a bastard they are ashamed of (vs. all the other children in the family with a less then glamorous pedigree) they lock Aureliano Babilonia in the room filled with cryptic parchments and he spends his life slowly attempting to decipher them only to finally realize they are a prophetic history of every moment his family has ever lived and will live. Their lives have been written from the beginning only to end in a crumbling destruction, abandoned by fate.

"What did you expect?" he murmured. "Time passes."
"That's how it goes," Ursula said, "but not so much."
When she said it she realized that she was giving the same reply that Colonel Aureliano Buendia had given in his death cell, and once again she shuddered with the evidence that time was not passing, as she admitted, but that it was turning in a circle."

The Viconian theory of cyclic history consists of three recurring phases, a primitive phase of society embedded with the Divine or mythic, a phase of political conflict and finally an egalitarian phase where rank and privilege have been dismantled by the previous conflicts. Marquez creates a world where history is repetitive in a similar fashion. The family starts out with little besides the clothes on their backs as they forage through the jungle, intent on making a new life for themselves. As generations pass the family becomes embroiled in the politics not only of Macando but in the regions surrounding them, forcing a peaceful, idyllic town into the demands of modernity and finally when the dust settles, the town no longer remembers the founders existence, they themselves have become the myth. The moment when Aureliano Babilonia realizes that not only is history repetitive but also predetermined is the moment the Buendia family history comes to an end.

"Before reaching the final line, however, he had already understood that he would never leave the room, for it was already foreseen that the city of mirrors (or mirages)  would be wiped out by the wind and exiled from the memory of men...everything written on the parchments was unrepeatable since time immemorial and forever more, because races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth."