I loved all those women–strong, capable and wise. The Count is like a favorite uncle to Nina, a brother to Marina, a lover to Anna, and a father to Sofia. He loves them all, but I think he maintains a certain space—a respectful and considerate space—between himself and the females in his life. His relationship with Andrey and Emile is easier. The three of them have a very comfortable rapport. There is no awkwardness or tension (as there is, on occasion, with each of the women).
^what a learning curve!!!
^^^ Yes.
The Count also had a solid loving relationship - earlier times - with his grandmother and his sister Helena.
I was afraid we were heading into Hedgehog territory with Nina.
@Tiredofsnow, I agree! I thought exactly the same thing. At age nine, her vocabulary, delivery and overall “archness” were well beyond her years. Fortunately, she grew up before I could get too irritated. I did enjoy the scene when she is a slightly older student, trying to conquer prime numbers (with the help of an amused Count).
Back to the question of whether the Count would commit suicide–I don’t think it was in his nature. He was easily distracted by the bees and the honey. I think the thought of suicide was a momentary/passing thing for the Count.
The more I think about the book and the Count–especially as the discussion continues, the more I realize that Towels really got me hooked–the suspension of disbelief. The whole premise of house arrest is so improbable–the Bolsheviks were nasty guys–they killed aristocrats/royalty; they didn’t put them under house arrest. You have to buy into that to enjoy the book–I did. I went to Moscow to visit my kid when she was studying there, I wish I knew about the Metropol. I would have liked to see it.
I thought the possibility of the Count committing suicide was completely believable. Here’s a man, not born to privilege but who had built a life of privilege, wealth, used to only the best in food, wine, furnishings. He lived in an opulent suite in the finest hotel. Details for him (tailoring, haircuts, room service) just ‘happened’, with no thought given to how those things happen. He lived in a rarified atmosphere. The change in circumstances was difficult, but he soldiered on, which he could do for awhile, but I think his good nature and resilience could only last so long. I could see it happen for most of us.
So, he rather desperately thought of suicide as a solution to his despair at the thought of a lifetime of just getting through his confinement. After the interlude with the handyman, his clever nature and natural introspection led him to think about a new life: as part of a different class of person. And it saved his life. Being useful, needed and eventually loved by his new family of peers (rather than ‘lessers’) was his salvation.
@Mary13 wrote "…Did the Count’s intention to throw himself off the roof seem in character to you? I certainly understand how that would be a temptation to a person dealing with a lifetime of confinement, but I didn’t see the Count on a downward spiral in the preceding chapters… "
I’ve been thinking about this question since you asked it yesterday. You know, the author doesn’t let us into the Count’s head. I mean, it would be such a different book if we were reading what he was actually thinking.
Instead, we have a certain distance from his “circumstances” as we get wrapped up in the storyline. In fact, I was a little surprised by the thought he might jump & kill himself. No, really? He’s going to jump?! I thought he was adapting to his confinement fairly well! So, maybe not so much out of character, but maybe the author allowed the reader to forget how much the Count was suffering inside & having trouble with adjusting?
Just because he seemed to handle so many things smoothly and like a gentleman, doesn’t mean his mind was calm. He’s a human being afterall, right?
Yes. I’m not convinced he actually would have jumped, but I’m not surprised he at least thought about it. And the fact that he’d even be thinking about it would have dismayed him, too. A character like that would have been really ambivalent at the thought.
Was anyone else surprised by the companionship that grew between Anna and the Count?
And re: Sofia. I was worried about her losing the Count due to his old age and not having a family. And yet, so happy to see her escape Russia.
I often found myself rereading paragraphs because of the lovely turns of phrases. For me, this was a beautiful stroll through a land of ideas and learning. I love the author’s dry wit.
The ending bothered me. Not so much that he stayed in Russia. He had said earlier that he was Russian to the core, and I sensed that he would stay no matter what. And I get that he threw the police off the trail with the overcoat and passport.
But… even if he could fade into anonymity, would Anna be able to do the same? Wouldn’t her fame bring much attention, and wouldn’t that attention very quickly reveal the Count’s presence? I doubt he has long to live, which bothers me. I would like for them both to live out their lives in some small country town.
That’s lovely, Mary! I totally missed that time structure!
I had a tough time getting into the book, but once I did, it captivated me–even though I didn’t buy into the premise that the Count would be allowed to live out his life comfortably in the Metropol. I did think it would have been possible for him to commit suicide. He’d been drinking more than usual that night, and was remembering his sister’s death. The fact that he was stopped by the handyman and the bees fit with the chapter’s theme about small things having a big impact, “the reshaping of destinies by the slightest change in the thermometer.”
Not to get into politics, but I thought that chapter was amusing given President Trump’s recent trip to Napoleon’s tomb in Paris, where he commented on Napoleon’s failure in Russia: “How many times has Russia been saved by the weather?” From Towles: “Ah, Napoleon, perhaps you would never have prevailed in your quest for Mother Russia; but ten degrees warmer and at least you might have reached home with half your forces intact…” 
Funny anecdote: I’m a librarian, and frequently help patrons with eBooks. So at the Red Sox game Friday night I noticed that the woman sitting in front of me was checking her Holds list in the OverDrive app. One of the titles–with a long waiting list–was a cover I recognized: “A Gentleman in Moscow.”
I thought that also. The other thing that bothered me: how Sofia would feel should his actions in her behalf cause his death.
I’m probably guilty of overthinking re the ending.
Are we to understand that Sofia will now be taken under the wing of Richard Vanderwhile and his (beautiful/understanding) wife? It seems like adopting a defector would be a sticky situation for him politically, since he is some sort of emissary or agent for the U.S. government. On the other hand, maybe that’s exactly the type of person who could get away with it.
I agree with the comments about Anna. Not only is she a moderately well-known celebrity, she is also on the Russian radar as the former lover of a government official. (Remember, there was some speculation from the “bad guys” that Sofia might be her daughter with the official, which is why they backed off when the Bishop reported on the girl’s existence.) Even if Osip turns a blind eye to the Count’s whereabouts, there are others who won’t.
I believe I missed some of the finer details of the Count’s escape plot. Can someone explain how the hapless Pudgy Webster was connected to it all?
@buenavista, I was at a huge used book sale this weekend — tables and tables of fiction. I could have bought every Maeve Binchy book ever written, but there was not a single copy of A Gentleman in Moscow to be found. (There were however, lots and lots of copies of Reading Lolita in Tehran, which won’t surprise some of you .)
I also missed the doubling principle of the time structure of the book. Very interesting. One of the only criticisms (and it’s a minor one) I have of the book is that there are several huge leaps forward in time that I found puzzling. For example, it seemed as if all of a sudden the Count was working at the hotel…
Overall, the fanciful parts of the story didn’t bother me; I just enjoyed the “ride.” Towles’ writing was such a pleasure to read! Although there are lots of rational reasons why the Count and Anna couldn’t remain undetected in the countryside, I’d like to think it was possible; that the Count’s local neighbors would “hide” them. (Yes, I’m a sucker for a “happy” ending.)
Appearances can deceive, as the Count realizes re the “hapless” Pudgy Webster. The Count notes similarities between Pudgy and Richard and then sees Pudgy wave to one and the same eminent professor who facilitated that private meeting between the Count and Richard. The Count realizes that Pudgy may be much less “hapless” than he appears: in fact, Pudgy may be much, much more than he appears, i.e., Richard and the Professor.
Note that when Pudgy encounters the Count in his room, he drops the “hapless” act.
^ Ah, kind of the Percy Blakeney method of disguise (for fans of The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy). There are a lot of characters in this book, which made it fun to read, but also meant that I missed a few nuances, I think.
I had a “wait…what?” moment there myself, and had to flip back a few pages to piece together the fact that when the Count says, “Andrey, Can you spare a moment…?” (last sentence of Book Two), he is launching himself into a new life at the Boyarsky, choosing meaningful work instead of suicide.
I liked the little bit we learned about Helena, although it wasn’t too much. What did you think of the story that begins with Princess Novobaczky’s birthday party and ends with Helena being courted by the evil lieutenant, with Alexander seeking revenge? It’s unusual in that it takes us outside the Metropol (in flashback), to a different setting and cast of characters. It’s also “fanciful” (to use @CBBBlinker’s word). It’s a tale with a princess, a ball, a wicked game of cards, a near-homicide, and even, I kid you not, a heaving bosom (p. 150) and a ripped bodice (p. 161) :). I think Towles acknowledges the slightly over-the-top nature of this episode, as it concludes with this exchange between the Count and his rapt listener: