A Gentleman in Moscow

by Amor Towles

Admittedly, it takes a certain amount of discipline to sit in a chair and read a novel, even a seasonal one, when a beautifully wrapped present waits within arm’s reach and the only witness is a one-eyed cat.

if the Count mastered the discipline of marching past the closed drawing-room doors, it was because experience had taught him that this was the best means of ensuring the splendor of the season.

perhaps it was the utterly unanticipated blessing of Nina’s friendship.

For after all, if attentiveness should be measured in minutes and discipline measured in hours, then indomitability must be measured in years.

the wise man celebrates what he can.

if attentiveness is measured in minutes, discipline in hours, and indomitability in years, then the attaining of the upper hand on the field of battle is measured in the instant.

“Handling does seem to have a way of eclipsing breeding,” she said acerbically. “And for that very reason, I should think that even some of the best-bred dogs belong on the shortest leashes.” “An understandable conclusion,” replied the Count. “But I should think the best-bred dogs belong in the surest hands.”

Suddenly—I shone in all my might, and morning rang its round. Always to shine, to shine everywhere, to the very depths of the last days, to shine— and to hell with everything else! That is my motto— and the sun’s!

Please allow me a second chance at a first impression in suite 208

And as she talked, the Count had to acknowledge once again the virtues of withholding judgment.

what can a first impression tell us about someone we’ve just met for a minute in the lobby of a hotel? For that matter, what can a first impression tell us about anyone? Why, no more than a chord can tell us about Beethoven, or a brushstroke about Botticelli. By their very nature, human beings are so capricious, so complex, so delightfully contradictory, that they deserve not only our consideration, but our reconsideration—and our unwavering determination to withhold our opinion until we have engaged with them in every possible setting at every possible hour.

“There’s certainly some allure to the idea of a fresh start; but how could I relinquish my memories of home, of my sister, of my school years.”

After all those years of striving and struggling, of hoping and praying, of shouldering expectations, stomaching opinions, navigating decorum, and making conversation, what they seek, quite simply, is a little peace and quiet. At least, that is what the Count told himself as he drifted down the hall.

coffee can energize the industrious at dawn, calm the reflective at noon, or raise the spirits of the beleaguered in the middle of the night.

“Professor Lisitsky says that one must wrestle with mathematics the way that one wrestles with a bear.”

an educated man should admire any course of study no matter how arcane, if it be pursued with curiosity and devotion.

when a man has been underestimated by a friend, he has some cause for taking offense—since it is our friends who should overestimate our capacities.

After scanning the headlines, the Count delved into an article on a Moscow manufacturing plant that was exceeding its quotas. He then read a sketch on various improvements in Russian village life. When he shifted his attention to a report on the grateful schoolchildren of Kazan, he couldn’t help but remark on the repetitiveness of the new journalistic style. Not only did the Bolsheviks seem to dwell on the same sort of subject matter day to day, they celebrated such a narrow set of views with such a limited vocabulary that one inevitably felt as if one had read it all before. It wasn’t until the fifth article that the Count realized he had read it all before. For this was yesterday’s paper.

Laughed2

If patience wasn’t so easily tested, then it would hardly be a virtue. . . .

“Even though these hypotheses have been tested over time, I think you were perfectly right to test them again.” Nina studied the Count for a moment. “Yes,” she said with a nod. “You have always known me the best.”

But if the Count took pride in knowing that everything was in order, he took comfort in knowing that the world would carry on without him—and, in fact, already had.

For who, I ask you, has exhibited better mastery of the shorter form than Chekhov in his flawless little stories?

Can you conceive of a work greater in scope than War and Peace? One that moves so deftly from the parlor to the battlefield and back again? That so fully investigates how the individual is shaped by history, and history by the individual?

Ten years ago tomorrow, while I was biding my time in Paris, my sister died.” “Of a broken heart . . .?” “Young women only die of broken hearts in novels, Charles. She died of scarlet fever.”

HISTORY IS THE business of identifying momentous events from the comfort of a high-back chair.

Always to shine, to shine everywhere, to the very depths of the last days

was he concerned that Mishka still pined for Katerina? Was he concerned that his old friend was morbidly retracing the footsteps of a lapsed romance?

Concerned? Mishka would pine for Katerina the rest of his life! Never again would he walk Nevsky Prospekt, however they chose to rename it, without feeling an unbearable sense of loss. And that is just how it should be. That sense of loss is exactly what we must anticipate, prepare for, and cherish to the last of our days; for it is only our heartbreak that finally refutes all that is ephemeral in love.

Nina Kulikova always was and would be a serious soul in search of serious ideas to be serious about.

Nina is so determined, I fear that the force of her convictions will interfere with the joys of her youth.”

you must trust in her. And even if she is single-minded to a fault, you must trust that life will find her in time. For eventually, it finds us all.”

he noted it was already 4:05, a fact that confirmed once again how quickly time flies when one is immersed in a pleasant task accompanied by pleasant conversation.

our young starlet reaped the effortless rewards of fame.

When one experiences a profound setback in the course of an enviable life, one has a variety of options. Spurred by shame, one may attempt to hide all evidence of the change in one’s circumstances. Thus, the merchant who gambles away his savings will hold on to his finer suits until they fray, and tell anecdotes from the halls of the private clubs where his membership has long since lapsed. In a state of self-pity, one may retreat from the world in which one has been blessed to live. Thus, the long-suffering husband, finally disgraced by his wife in society, may be the one who leaves his home in exchange for a small, dark apartment on the other side of town. Or, like the Count and Anna, one may simply join the Confederacy of the Humbled.

Like the Freemasons, the Confederacy of the Humbled is a close-knit brotherhood whose members travel with no outward markings, but who know each other at a glance. For having fallen suddenly from grace, those in the Confederacy share a certain perspective. Knowing beauty, influence, fame, and privilege to be borrowed rather than bestowed, they are not easily impressed. They are not quick to envy or take offense. They certainly do not scour the papers in search of their own names. They remain committed to living among their peers, but they greet adulation with caution, ambition with sympathy, and condescension with an inward smile.

that was the life of the Boyarsky—a battle that must be waged with exacting precision while giving the impression of effortlessness, every single night of the year.

“Then allow me to introduce myself: I am Osip Ivanovich Glebnikov—former colonel of the Red Army and an officer of the Party, who as a boy in eastern Georgia dreamed of Moscow, and who as a man of thirty-nine in Moscow dreams of eastern Georgia.”

I do like to think there is a difference between being resigned to a situation and reconciled to it.”

how a single idea can sweep the globe.

the jazz ensemble was playing a perky little tune. Admittedly, when the Count had first encountered jazz, he hadn’t much of an affinity for it. He had been raised to appreciate music of sentiment and nuance, music that rewarded patience and attention with crescendos and diminuendos, allegros and adagios artfully arranged over four whole movements—not a fistful of notes crammed higgledy-piggledy into thirty measures. And yet . . . And yet, the art form had grown on him. Like the American correspondents, jazz seemed a naturally gregarious force—one that was a little unruly and prone to say the first thing that popped into its head, but generally of good humor and friendly intent. In addition, it seemed decidedly unconcerned with where it had been or where it was going—exhibiting somehow simultaneously the confidence of the master and the inexperience of the apprentice. Was there any wonder that such an art had failed to originate in Europe?

They spoke of the once and the was, of the wishful and the wonderful.

when the hero has a moment of respite from his daily affairs, Death pays him a visit.

“The collectivization of collectives, Helena, and the dekulaking of kulaks—in all probability, these are quite probable. They’re even likely to be likely. But inevitable?” With a knowing smile, the Count shook his head at the very sound of the word. “Allow me to tell you what is inevitable. What is inevitable is that Life will pay Nina a visit too. She may be as sober as St. Augustine, but she is too alert and too vibrant for Life to let her shake a hand and walk off alone. Life will follow her in a taxi. It will bump into her by chance. It will work its way into her affections. And to do so, it will beg, barter, collude, and if necessary, resort to chicanery. “What a world,” the Count sighed at last, before falling asleep in his chair.

But who was Alexander Rostov, if not a seasoned conversationalist?

“Why, so that she can be addressed. So that she can be invited for tea; called to from across the room; discussed in conversation when absent; and included in your prayers. That is, for all the very reasons that you benefit from having a name.”

For there is nothing more essential to the enjoyment of a civilized lunch than to have a lively topic of conversation.”

seeing your instinctive tenderness,

in an extraordinary example of a friend anticipating the needs of a friend,

If you are ever in doubt, just remember that unlike adults, children want to be happy. So they still have the ability to take the greatest pleasure in the simplest things.”

“Uncle Alexander, you won’t peek, will you?” Won’t peek? The Count had a mind to say a word or two about the integrity of the Rostovs. Instead, he composed himself. “No, Sofia. I will not peek.” “You promise . . .?” . . . “I promise.”