A Gentleman in Moscow

by Amor Towles

hid as a boy; and it was these silver candelabra that lined our table on Christmas Eve; and

bandied about, all went off without a hitch. And so it was in the Metropol. Ever since its opening in 1905,

leave his company on the basis of hypotheses.

response, knowing full well that the answer was imprisonment,

on the sixth of December; at eight or nine in the morning. There it was, they say. As if—like at the opera—a curtain has closed, a lever has been pulled, one set has been whisked to the rafters and another

of nostalgia? And once again, does not his story line seem centered on the trials and triumphs of the individual? A predilection that he reinforces