I gave away a book. It is not something I would normally do.
Books have been a part of my life even when I did not read them. My parents converted the attic bedroom into a “study” with shelves full of encyclopedias and books. I grew up next to the local library and later worked at the school library. As an adult, I collected antiquarian books. I love books. But since being in Morocco, it is find and keep books; especially in English.
I was sitting in %Arabica in Casablanca when two women - one blond, the other brunette - parked themselves next to me. Clearly, they were tourists. And surprisingly, they were speaking Russian. I said hello in French but discovered that they were both fluent in English.
We had a lengthy conversation about current US-Russian relations, Russian movies and Czar Nicholas II, the last of the Romanovs.
The blond, named Olga, worked in public relations like me while Inna was a digital nomad employed in the finance industry.
I had always heard that Russians are very passionate about their literature. They revere authors like Doestoevsky, Gogol, Bulgakov and Pushkin, often quoting their colorful fictional characters.
I mentioned that I was trying to read Nabakov’s Lolita, written in English in 1955. As I was speaking, I saw Olga’s eyes starting to well up and her face reddened.
“Are you okay,” I asked.
She sighed and explained that she read the story twice in Russian and was thinking of Humbert Humbert, the controversial character who engages repeatedly in a sexual relations with his stepdaughter, a minor.
“Really? … He was a sick dude.” I commented.
Olga agreed. But she wasn’t moved by any affection for Humbert’s actions, but by the writing that crafted such a monstrous character. Nabakov is certainly artful in his character development, for better or worse. There was a great deal more meaning in the story, she said, than simply the taboo for which it is known. Yes, this Russian woman was quite well-read and passionate about literature.
We really enjoyed each other's company. And the following evening, the three of us went out for dinner. I told Olga that I challenge myself to read more in French and I wanted her to do the same in English. And then I reached in my bag and I gave away a cherished book: my copy of A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles.
This hardcover book was in my storage bin in Manhattan along with about fifty other books. I remember reading it on the flight across the Atlantic to Casablana several years ago. There is so much to this story that I wanted to read the book again. But I am pleased that I gave it away.
The story begins with Count Alexander Rostov, a Russian aristocrat, being spared death by firing squad. Instead, he was sentenced to imprisonment in the famous Metropol Hotel in Moscow. But should he leave the hotel premises, he would be shot on sight.
For the next 32 years, Rostov dwells within the confines of this once-luxurious hotel built in 1905 for visiting foreign dignitaries and Russia’s elite. Across the Russian countryside once ruled by the Czar, Soviets operatives kill, oppress and build a new society based upon the concept of “equity.” Count Rostov is forced to give up his suite, his books, and his former life to be quartered upstairs in a small attic room with one window looking out over the city. He still has full use of the hotel, most of which he spends in the famous Boyarsky dining room.
He meets wondrous characters and survives without completely losing his mind and inherited dignity. One such character was Sofia, who Count Rostov adopted and raised as a young girl.
Sofia, is the daughter of Nina Kulikova, a woman Rostov befriends during his time at the Metropol. In her youth, Nina frequently visited the Metropol with her family. But she joined the Revolution and decided to destroy all remnants of her seemingly privileged past. Nina gives her only daughter, Sofia, to Rostov before setting out to find her husband who has been sent to a labor camp during Stalin’s reign of terror. Nina never returns.
Unlike Humbert in Lolita, there is no sexual relationship nor undertones even though Sofia lived in Rostov’s room. Rostov set up a sleeping quarter for the young girl who had a magical ability to find secret passages in this magnificent hotel. They became a family of sorts.
After so many years in confinement, this story is a lesson on how to adapt to change. Moreover, it is a reminder of how we age.
“Yes, a bottle of wine was the ultimate distillation of time and place; a poetic expression of individuality itself.”
The individuality and status of Rostov, Nina and Sofia were changed by force of circumstances. Instead of benefiting from the dreamy “glories” of communism, Nina and Sofia suffered. Instead of being served in fine restaurants as before, Rostov becomes a waiter in the Boyarsky restaurant. Why not? He was a gourmand, a sommelier of fine wines and always a distinguished gentleman despite his confinement. It was a new day for him.
It is not easy to be stuck in one place as the world around you changes. You can certainly feel isolated and powerless. Count Rostov experienced the aftermath of a very bloody and oppressive revolution. But in our world in which we live, play and work, the society and human condition is changing and evolving despite ourselves.
“As we age, we are bound to find comfort from the notion that it takes generations for a way of life to fade.”
Unlike Count Rostov, most of us did not grow up as noblemen. But we had titles. We were the sons and daughters of our parents. We were members of a nuclear family, a church, a community, a county, a state and the greater nation. We belong to ourselves yet a larger group which defined how we behaved and looked askance at behaviors and thinking which did not fit our ideals.
As we age, we feel that loneliness of change. As they say, ‘the old town ain’t the same anymore.’ We can also feel inadequate. ‘Don’t mind me, I’m just a boomer.’
We see the youthful energy of children jumping and running and we remember when we were in their shoes. But we know, those days are over.
A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles is a story of survial while maintaining one’s individual dignity in the face of mass hysteria and oppression. I think I will read it again.
… adversity presents itself in many forms; and that if a man does not master his circumstances then he is bound to be mastered by them.” — A Gentleman in Moscow
Since my youth, I have been interested in the Russian people and their history. I remember watching the film Nicholas and Alexandria, and seeing the Royal family of Russia being slaughtered. How horrific.
I remember being in the movie theater with my family watching Doctor Zhivago, which also dealt with the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917. There is a scene, in which Zhivago, played by Omar Sharif, returns home to his family after being forced to serve as a doctor in the military. His large luxurious townhouse has now been divided and given to the poor leaving Zhivago and his family with only one room.
I was six years old when I saw this movie in 1965. Many scenes made a deep impression on me. We were a family of four in a six-bedroom solid brick house. Imagine a local committe of communists forcing us to live with other people in OUR house in the cause of “equity.”
That’s not fair, I said. And I grew up hating communism and collective thinking.
But I was also raised to love my neighbors, just like the good book said. Our house was open to all who knocked on the door. Hell, sometimes the door wasn’t even locked at night.
Would you treat me to an espresso? Ethiopian Yirgacheffe or Congo Kivu. So good.
I thought it would be polite to ask Olga to read this article before publishing. Before I could send it, she had sent me the picture below. Yes, the Metropol Hotel exists, even though the characters in the story are, for the most part, fictional. Olga had not finished the novel yet, but mentioned there was a series. I will stick with the memories of the book. A TV series will surely be disappointing. Just saying. Read on.
I enjoy imagining your connections and how they unfold into deeper conversations.
I’ve read Lolita, but not Gentleman in Moscow. Another one to add to the list. Thank you.