The gentleman in question is Count Alexander Ilych Rostov, who in June 1922, aged thirty-three, is residing in suite 314 of the Hotel Metropol in Moscow.
Two things to note. First, though this is post-revolutionary Russia, the Hotel Metropol retains its luxuriant style due to its proximity to Red Square, the Bolshoi Theatre, and the Kremlin – after all, the comrades deserve some comfort, fine dining, and somewhere impressive to hold their interminable congresses. Second, though the Count’s title is redundant, he survives in this new proletariat world thanks to his historical support of the pre-revolutionary cause of reform.
But goodwill doesn’t last forever, and Rostov is called before a tribunal. He escapes with his life but at the cost of house arrest. He can return to the Metropol but never leave it; one step outside and he will be shot. And suite 314 is out of the question, it is a monastic cell in the attic from now on.
Rostov is, though, a gentleman, respected by the staff who continue to treat him with guest-like courtesy. He takes as his motto that a man must master his circumstances otherwise be mastered by them.
Those circumstances go on for over thirty years, during which time he: forges close friendships, then working relationships, with the Maître D’ and chef of the restaurant; has romantic liaisons with a leading actress in residence; befriends a precocious nine-year-old girl then, years later, assumes guardianship of her five-year-old daughter; agrees to assist a high-ranking party official to understand western culture; and befriends a American general, later diplomat, and supplies him with gossip on the party hierarchy.
The years pass surprisingly
quickly - where is it going and how will it end are the hooks - though it takes
the best part of 500 pages to arrive at a climax of sorts. Rostov, who carries
the whole narrative, is a philosopher as well as a gentleman, and though he is
confined to the hotel, the whole world enters its lobby, so it is never dull.
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