Published: 2016, Windmill Books
Just now and again, a few days come together where I start to feel that I am happy in my little corner of this earth and I get to enjoy a run of good things.
It began with my birthday on Tuesday when I had visits, phone calls, messages and chocolate cake, then rolled right on into the Annual Golf Weekend. Do I play golf? No, but my husband does, and off he goes with my blessing as I rub my hands with glee at the thought of having the house all to myself for a couple of days! This is my chance to watch long films with complex plots ('Can't you find something a bit happier?'), whack my music up and read at any hour of the day or night.
And right on cue, along came A Gentleman in Moscow. This book is a prime example of why I stopped giving out star ratings because I enjoyed it more than anything I've read in a long time and I've already dished out several fives. (Too easily pleased my dear dad used to say, but I think he was referring to my homework at the time.) Anyway, this book is an absolute gem that fairly glistens off the pages. I knew I was in for a treat when Count Alexander Ilyitch Rostov finds himself under house arrest in the Hotel Metropol and is forced to sell a gold coin in order to raise credit during the coming months:
"Excuse my curiosity, Your Excellency, but is that a . . . lonely piece?"
"Lonely? Oh, no," replied the Count with a shake of the head. "It lives like a soldier in a barracks. Like a slave in a galley. Not a moment to itself, I'm afraid."
The whole book feels as though it was written on a typewriter by a man wearing high waisted trousers who considers every word very carefully, as the paper is valuable, and not to be frittered away with unformed prose.

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