April's Book: A Gentleman in Moscow

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles

Historical Fiction (2016 - 462 pp.)

In A Gentleman in Moscow, Amor Towles follows the life story of the fictitious Count Alexander Rostov, sentenced to life imprisonment in the Metropol Hotel in Moscow by the newly formed Soviet Union in the aftermath of World War I. The book spans the 1920s through the 1950s, featuring characters as diverse, and hilarious, as Emile the head chef, Audrius the bartender, Anna the actress, Nina the young girl who takes Rostov on a tour of the hotel, and an antagonist known as the Bishop.

I tend not to say this, but I wish I'd thought of A Gentleman in Moscow. Considering my love of old architecture and of European history, it seems like a natural fit. I especially love that Towles stayed at luxury hotels while writing the book. That said, Towles was 56 when A Gentleman in Moscow was released, and I'm only 33, so there is time yet. Much of the Metropol looks as it would have in that era. The next best thing, of course, is that I'm a discussion leader for the University of Alberta Alumni Association book club, where many of my fellow alumni are discussing the book.

Reading A Gentleman in Moscow during the COVID-19 pandemic, and the associated lockdown orders, made me simultaneously identify with Rostov and feel as though his experience is alien to mine. On the identifying side, I've certainly been cooped up, although thankfully, I purchased a treadmill in December and have run over 665 miles on it. On the other hand, the simple joys Rostov experiences at the hotel restaurant and bar, which form much of the action, are now foreign to me.

My apartment in downtown Toronto: decidedly not the Metropol Hotel, but then again, Rostov doesn't have my laptop, exercise equipment, or access to online shopping. With a little work and some creative ergonomics, it's cozy enough, though.

As I said last week to the U of A book club, Rostov starts the book surprisingly unexcited to explore the hotel, which is the first thing I would have done:

At first, he seems at a loss as to what to do. The fact that he needs Nina to inspire curiosity in him, despite him still being quite young at the time (he starts the book as a 33-year-old), made me sad when I read it. If I’d been imprisoned in the Metropol, I would have been darting around the place like a weasel.

I can relate to the “gilt cage” feeling in a big way. The lockdowns and stay at home orders effectively erased my lifestyle. My ROM membership is pointless. Last month, when retail stores were more open, I frantically used up my Winners/Homesense gift cards, having no clue when I’d be back. (I did actually need the items, though!) That said, I spend every day being thankful I have a nice apartment, my parents’ house and the cottage, plus enough money in the bank to survive, fitness equipment, kitchen gadgets, all the books and movies I can manage, and online shopping.

When staying in hotels, I make a point of exploring them, from any available fresh air (why is Rostov not constantly on the balconies?) to every amenity the hotel offers. I also love climbing stairs, which Rostov doesn't seem to take too seriously until four years into his stay.

The historical context is jarring; by being imprisoned in the Hotel, Rostov is effectively insulated from World War II. While millions of his countrymen were perishing on the Eastern Front, led by a government the polar opposite of what Rostov believes, he can lounge in the hotel restaurant with his old friend, the poet Mishka. To think that Rostov is almost executed at the start of the novel, but then is able to salvage a charming but silly life story including a lengthy stint as a waiter, makes the power plant scene all the brighter. (414) For all those decades, though, Rostov is incapable of visiting anyone else, so he is entirely at the mercy of his visitors' schedules, especially Anna's and Nina's.

Towles's prose flows effortlessly, replete with one-liners. Some of Rostov's funniest observations occur when he runs into his ever-changing cadre of friends. He first meets Anna in the hotel lobby, where she is incapable of commandeering two large wolfhounds that chase the hotel's one-eyed cat to the edge of the carpet. The dogs, suddenly on tile, slide almost all the way out of the hotel. (111) The Bishop always moves diagonally. (220) A peppered moth is used as a metaphor for the lightning-fast industrialization of the USSR. (336) 

A Gentleman in Moscow jumps around a bit, but is otherwise written in an easy, accessible way. I learned a fair bit about the Metropol Hotel, which made me feel transported to Moscow in a way I can't go anywhere right now. Nonetheless, fans of The Grand Budapest Hotel should like A Gentleman in Moscow well enough.

Ease of Reading: 8

Educational Content: 3