There is an interesting thematic division within Bugalkov’s Heart of a Dog. On the one hand, Sharikov functions as a critique of the values embraced by 1920’s Soviet Russia: disregard for manners and other basic norms, appreciation of the circus before theatre, participation of contemptible people in official capacities, betrayal of neighbors to the secret police, and hypocritical disregard toward alcoholism and sexual assault. On the other hand, the narrative challenges the regressive values of Philip Philippovich Preobrazhensky. His entire motivation for creating Sharikov is eugenics (104), centered on a belief in the linear evolution of life. Only through such a view could transplanting a human pituitary gland to a dog produce a superior being. Yet rather than perfecting Sharik, the operation returns a being far more sinister than Sharik ever was, one mainly guided by the wicked impulses of the vagrant who supplied Sharikov’s brain. For Preobrazhensky, the experience shows how his effort was less successful at “improving humanity” than chance alone. Although the eugenics content is retroactively more reminiscent of fascism, the belief in inevitable societal progression is central to Marxism. As such, the refutation of Preobrazhensky’s beliefs ironically serves to challenge the system so despised by the Professor. Still, the rejection of natural hierarchies of humans or animals does correspond to communist ideals, showcasing perhaps one fault of bourgeois thought.
With this critique considered, it perplexed me how the book concludes with Preobrazhensky resuming his work dissecting brains and searching for a means of achieving “rejuvenation” (123). I now see a couple possible meanings. First of all, the sequence might refer back to Preobrazhensky’s stubbornness and refusal to accept even benign changes in prevailing thought. After all, this is a man who still wears a medieval French mustache style (6). The sequence might also be understood as recalling the disturbing manner in which Sharik was made a human. Such an ending would reiterate the tragic aspect of the narrative: a seriously wounded dog gives its trust to a promising benefactor, only to be subject to a horrific experiment that goes against its founders core ambitions. Stated as such, a clear parallel between Sharik and Russia during the early 20th century emerges. I do not believe one aspect of the ending ought to be emphasized over the other; taken together, they cover both key themes.
Bugalkov’s focus on critiquing the Soviet values and eugenics is quite interesting. Especially since these critiques often have multiple meanings, such as the ones you mentioned above. I think the experiment on Sharik definitely could be taken as Bugalkov attempting to highlight the cruel “experimentation” of society. It’s striking how everything Bugalkov wrote in this book has a little bit of meaning, adding on the depth of his critiques.
Adding on to what Sophie said, I think that the experiment on Sharik reveals that the Soviet leaders were truly “experimenting” on the Soviet Union as a whole. However, rather than confining the experimentation to a lab, all of Russia is used, and in a sense, all members of the society are being artificially transfigured into Soviet molds just as Sharik. Zach, I also think your comments about the two conflicting themes further proves the complexity and depth of the novella.
Somebody mentioned this in the class (I think that it was you!) but you mentioned one of the questions that echoes around Russian literature from the 18th century all the way today: “who is to blame.” This, with what you put in your blog post, really can be applied to this work, and is one of the central questions that Bulgakov asks. Is it the dog? The doctor? The dead donor? I really enjoyed our discussion in class trying to figure that out!
Zach, you did a wonderful job highlighting a historical element that Bulgakov satirizes: eugenics. I agree that it is ironic that Preobrazhensky, a bourgeoisie man, is conducting experience and continues to conduct despite the failings of Sharik and consequently, feeds into the soviet idea of building the ideal the soviet man. Though the scientist seems himself as separate from the communist society that he inhabits, but it’s clear that he is still implicit in the state’s eugenics initiative. Bulgakov might be trying to create a narrative that speaks to the teleological nature of communism. The main goal of experimenting on Sharik and other subjects is to build the perfect citizens of a perfect communist state.
Zach, I think you are spot-on in your analysis. Bulgakov is clearly writing a critique of society and the direction in which the revolution is taking it. The degeneracy of the social fabric towards alcoholism, sexual misbehavior, and the “homo sovieticus” man brought up in class are all highlighted by Sharikov. As far as who is to blame, as you brought up in class and Brennan mentioned, it is much more open-ended in nature. This is something the novel elicits more questions than it provides answers. However, as you have noted, the hypocrisy of the ruling class in its brushing off of the Professor because he is deemed useful is something noteworthy, I think.
I just want to commend you all for an outstanding discussion here, once again! A fabulous initial post by Zach, and such thoughtful follow-up responses that also manage to weave in our class discussion in very thoughtful ways. Thando and Jacob raise really nuanced points about the Professor’s complicity in the Soviet experiment even though he sees himself as separate from it, and about the hypocrisy of the Soviet ruling class that looks the other way because he is serving their basest (i.e., sexual) needs. Outstanding!