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There are similarities between Bulgakov and Towles. Both came to writing after other careers, Bulgakov in medicine, Towles in finance;  both are steeped in Russian literature; both are interested in the role of art in society. Both books satirise the Soviet regime of the Russia of the 1920s. But let’s not push the comparison too far. Bulgakov was a Russian writer living in Moscow in the 1920s. Towles is a contemporary American author who does not speak Russian.

 

Heart of a Dog is a chaotic blend of science fiction, farce and satire. A Gentleman in Moscow is a long, immersive rumination interrupted by bursts of action. Heart of the Dog, with its many cultural hints and references compressed into sparse prose and choppy dialogue, is a challenge for a non-Russian reader. A Gentleman in Moscow lingers over detail, backstory and context. Heart of the Dog is very short, a novella. A Gentleman in Moscow is a by any standards a long book.

 

So why have I paired them in this newsletter?

 

Largely because one scene in Heart of a Dog struck a vein of humour for me. I believe it was the inspiration for a similar scene in A Gentleman in Moscow. Not plagiarism. Nothing like. Rather the best form of literary influence.

 

Heart of a Dog is the story of a professor who transplants a man’s pituitary gland and  testicles into a dog resulting in turning the dog into a human, but one with decidedly dog-like characteristics. Sharikov cannot resist chasing cats and when a neighbour’s Tom cat sneaks into  the professor’s apartment…

 

‘… something jumped against the walls of the locked bathroom, basins came clattering down, and Sharikov’s wild voice roared hoarsely behind the door: “I’ll kill you on the spot….”

            Water rushed down the pipes and began to run. Philip Phillipovich pushed the door, trying to force it open. Darya Petrovna, flushed from the stove, appeared on the kitchen threshold, her face distorted. Then the transom window, high up on the wall between the bathroom and the kitchen, cracked jaggedly. Two pieces of glass crashed down, followed by an enormous tom, with tiger stripes and a pale-blue bow on his neck, looking for all the world like an old-style policemen. He dropped right into a long platter on the table, splitting it in half, bounced off to the floor, turned around on three paws, waved the right paw as in a dance, and immediately seeped out through a narrow crack to the back stairs.’

 

There’s something so delightfully catlike about ‘seeping out’.

 

A Gentleman in Moscow is the story of a man placed under house arrest  by the regime, in an upscale Moscow hotel. One day, ‘When the Count reached the lobby, before he could continue to the barbershop his eyes were drawn to a willowy figure coming through the hotel’s doors…what guaranteed her position as the natural center of attention were the two borzois she had on a leash…

 

‘… the one-eyed cat slipped behind the trunk of the tree. Then having satisfied himself that the dogs were securely tethered, the cat alit from the palm to the floor and without even bothering to arch his back opened his little jaws and hissed.

            With a terrific volley of barking, the dogs leapt to the extent of their leashes, tugging their mistress from the front desk as the ledger pen clattered to the floor.

            “Whoa,” she shouted. “Whoa!”

            Apparently unfamiliar with equine commands, the wolfhounds leapt again and, freeing themselves from the willow’s grip, scrambled towards their prey.

            Kutuzov was off like a shot. Slipping under the western embankment of lobby chairs, the one-eyed cat dashed toward the front door, as if intending to escape into the street. Without a moment’s hesitation the dogs gave chase. Opting for a pincer movement, they split at the potted palms and pursued the cat on opposite sides of the chairs in the hope of cutting him off at the door. A lamp that blocked the path of the first hound was knocked to the floor in a shower of sparks, while a standing ash tray that blocked the second was sent head over heels, discharging a cloud of dust.’

 

As in Bulgakov’s version the cat is victorious…

 

‘… For just as the wolfhounds registered the cat’s reversal and attempted to turn, the lobby’s expansive oriental carpet came to an end, and the dogs’ momentum sent them skidding across the marble floor into the luggage of an arriving guest.’

 

Both authors have had great fun creating a truly farcical scene involving dogs wrecking their surroundings in pursuit of a saucy cat.

 

Bulgakov’s is the more complex version. He is conveying many things at once: satirising medical science that believes people can be rejuvenated by injecting them with animal parts (that really was a thing in the 1920s); satirising professor Philip Phillipovich who can’t control the man/dog he has created; satirising the communist revolution that believes it can turn ordinary people into model citizens by imposing social changes; and demonstrating the chaos and destruction brought about by ill-advised social experiments.

 

The Heart of a Dog novella was not published until 1968 in the West and 1987 in Russia. The book did circulate in manuscript form before that in an underground network of dissidents. Bulgakov remained in Russia and had a sinecure post at the Moscow theatre but his plays were not performed. He had that much freedom possibly because Stalin was said to have found one of his plays extremely funny. Not that Stalin wanted anyone else to see it.

 

Towles is having fun while introducing an important character, the willowy woman. He is showing off his knowledge of Russian literature and history. (Kutuzov was the one-eyed general who lead the Russian army against Napoleon.) At the end of the scene the Count is in control, because he knows how to whistle commands to hunting dogs.

 

At the end of Bulgakov’s scene the distinguished professor is far from in control. Sharikov is locked in a room, hammering on the door, and the professor is the subject of pity.

 

Heart of a Dog is compressed, absurd and uneven. It is an important book of its time. A Gentleman in Moscow is a beautifully written meditation on what it might be like to live out much of your life in a hotel. Both tell you a lot about life under early communism. Both have an undertone of fear. Both are replete with references you may need either to look up or skip over.

 

Both are worth the effort.