A Gentleman in Moscow

Whimsical, colorful, the whole book written like a charming wink, like a Wes Anderson film in the form of a book (and in fact reminds me a bit of the Grand Budapest Hotel) - this book is delightfully coy in a comforting way. It's like one of those clever cartoons from childhood: too sweet and whimsical to be real, but wholly engaging nonetheless. I couldn't suppress a smile while reading. Certainly a far cry from the seriousness of the staples of the Russian literary canon (Tolstoy, Chekhov...)

I think we fall into the trap that a truly good book has to be somehow devastating, revealing some depth of a sad shared human experience. But why can we not revel in the charms and wonder the world has to offer, even within our small little sections of the world, such as the Counts “prison” of the hotel?

Yet there IS a certain gravity to the book. The stability of an unchanging cast of characters and unchanging scene of the hotel while the backdrop of early-mid 20th century Russia is in constant (and perilous) political upheaval creates a fascinating dichotomy, and lends some needed gravitas, and raises some interesting thoughts about our smaller worlds that exist inside the larger one.

A quick, simple, but lovely read - would absolutely recommend!