Wednesday, December 20, 2017

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles

  Last night, around midnight, I finished up Amor Towles' A Gentleman in Moscow.  There's a reason that the 6,671 Amazon.com reviews average 4.5 stars.  It's an amazing read.  It's somewhat hard to describe -- a Soviet gentleman is sentenced to a life of house arrest in a Moscow hotel in 1922, and the remainder of the book is a catalogue of the events and interactions that comprise his life in the Metropol hotel.  If you're like me, the description doesn't sound captivating, but from the moment I started this book on an airplane a few days ago, I couldn't put it down.  It's beautifully written, a composed piece that the reader consumes like fine dining -- with each chapter as a separate course, drawing one deeper to enjoy and yet whetting the appetite for what comes next.  I savored the story while devouring the book.

  It's a great story, but there are fascinating themes that comprise the tale as well.  A story of a man forced to live his life in one building is important in the modern age.  So many of us are driven by an anxiety of what we're missing out.  The syndrome even has a name (FOMO, or fear of missing out), and we spent hours scrolling through social media wondering what our friends or acquaintances are doing.  We often end up jealous of the casual vacations or perfect family portraits of casual friends of friends, wondering why our life didn't turn out like that.  Never mind that the reality of their life may not be entirely reflected in this one selected snapshot.  That's another conversation.
  What the book captures so well is the ability of the main character, Count Rostov, to satisfy himself in his surroundings.  His life has not turned out like he imagined, and his surroundings are not what he would have chosen, but he delves into the riches of them, exploring their depths and building relationships within his confinement.  He doesn't allow himself to waste away wishing he were someone else in another world, in another place.  The book is not caught up in longing for the world beyond the walls -- rather it's a picture of how a life is built within the walls, and how the Count is richer for it. 
  What if we contented ourselves with our situations?  It doesn't mean we stop striving, but instead of chasing after some unrealistic image of another life, we instead invested ourselves in developing the riches of the life we have.  I once heard a preacher say that the 10th Commandment is the reward for following the other 9 -- that if we follow those nine, we won't want someone else's life.  A life caught up in chasing what other people have will never be satisfied.  Finding a way to be content with where we are, letting God satisfy us rather than trying to find another station in life and believing that will be satisfying, is what gets us into trouble, leaving us anxious and short-tempered.

  The book also gives us the beauty of seeing how relationships deepen over decades.  We have a somewhat transitory culture now -- we move so often, it's hard to have relationships that last for years, let alone decades.  In the book, the Count has relationships that deepen over time, and at a certain point, he laments the loss of the one friend who knew him when he was truly young.  These long-term relationships are a gift, because they are often friends who have seen us at our best and our worst, and they love us throughout.  We don't have to wear masks around these friends, or pretend that we are something we are not.  We don't hide our imperfections, but rather accept them, sometimes even embracing them, grateful for a friend who loves us in spite of them.  Our weaknesses do not make us unlovable -- but rather reveal the wondrous ways that relationships build and surround us in the midst of our weaknesses. 

  It's hard for me to recommend A Gentleman in Moscow enough.  It's a great book, entertaining and poignant.  It's an adventure that takes place without much change in scenery and yet with wonderful development -- the characters deepen by the chapter, and we age with them, watching them grow and wishing them well.  I loved it, and I miss it already.

No comments: