What would happen if a pioneering surgeon transplanted organs from a recently deceased criminal into a stray dog? When the idea is filtered through the imagination of Mikhail Bulgakov, the result is a sharp satire of Soviet attempts at social engineering.

The Heart of a Dog is a fairly short novel, probably closer to novella length, and a much easier introduction to Bulgakov than his major work, The Master and Margarita. Like that novel, this one has plenty of absurd and comedic elements, with strong political undertones.

It’s chastening to think that while many of us today are reticent to speak out on certain issues for fear of backlash, Bulgakov wrote this searing critique of Bolshevism and submitted it for publication in 1925, when the USSR was under the rule of Joseph Stalin. So, although I’m reading it for two 1925-themed book-blogging events (The 1925 Club and Hundred Years Hence), this book’s publication history is more complicated. For decades, The Heart of a Dog was available only via dissident samizdat, and it remained banned from official publication until long after the author’s death.

The political implications are much more open than in The Master and Margarita. There’s the main story, of course, which is obviously poking fun at Soviet attempts to change human nature and engineer a “New Soviet Man.” The results are comical: the stray dog, Sharik, quickly morphs into a nightmare of a man, Poligraf Poligrafovich Sharikov, who has an inflated sense of entitlement and a dim sense of morality, and who engages in political chicanery with the housing committee while also howling and chasing cats.

Despite the novel’s title, Sharikov’s creator, Dr. Preobrazhensky, explains that it’s the human elements, not the canine ones, that are the problem. In one place, he regrets his operation to “transform a most likeable dog into such a nasty piece of work it makes the hair stand on end.” And later, he says to his assistant:

“You have to realize that the whole horror of the thing is that he already has not the heart of a dog but the heart of a man.”

The disastrous results of the operation are a clear commentary on the USSR’s aims of uplifting the proletariat. And other critiques of Bolshevism are also woven through the novel.

The housing committee, which is appropriating the apartments in Dr. Preobrazhensky’s building and breaking them up into smaller accommodation, is a frequent target for mockery. Its members are pedantic and vindictive, and yet they fail to take any of Dr. Preobrazhensky’s ample space because he counts senior government officials among his patients and is able to call on them for favours.

Later, as Sharikov gets his official papers and finds a job as a cat-catcher, we see a system riddled with corruption and favouritism, governed not by its high ideals but by connections and power. Dr. Preobrazhensky several times expresses his contempt for the proletariat who are stealing his galoshes, as well as his dislike of the system in general. While the author’s views don’t necessarily align with the character’s, the criticisms expressed in The Heart of a Dog are quite explicit, and I can see why Stalin wouldn’t have been a fan.

The book doesn’t have the depth and complexity of The Master and Margarita, which is to be expected of a novella with a simple satirical premise. So I’d recommend the other book to see the best of Bulgakov, but The Heart of a Dog also has plenty to appreciate and is a quicker, easier entry point.

Have you read this or any other Bulgakov novels? Are you taking part in either of the 1925 reading events? Let me know in the comments.