Bulgakov

he Master and Margarita, from the Russian writer Mikhail Bulgakov, is an odd birthday present to get. In fact, outside of the smiling black cat on the cover (with a weird forked tongue), I didn’t “get” why my wife gave this to me as a present. I mean, outside of Anna Karenina (which I read so long ago it isn’t even on my book review list), I don’t do much Russian Literature. Then my wife reminded me – this was the book Sonja was reading when Ove first met her (from A Man Called Ove). Her eyes sparkled when she […]