Lessons From A Fake Russian Count
I’m drawn back to a book I read over two years ago. Amor Towles’ charming but know-it-all character Count Alexander Ilyich Rostov from A Gentleman in Moscow is speaking to me across space, time, and fictional dimensions. The story is set in the newly formed Soviet Union after the Bolshevik’s have taken control. The Count is sentenced to life under house arrest in the Metropol Hotel in Moscow.
Towles’ character is fictional, but the Metropol Hotel is real. Located directly across from the Kremlin, it served as the landing zone for visiting press and dignitaries from all over the world. During the thirty years living in one of the epicenters of Russian history, the Count managed to embark on a journey that pointed within himself rather than beyond the elaborate structure that covered more than a city block. When we are free to move about and tempted by all forms of distraction, traveling inward falls down the priority list. Towles’ character shines a light on something that we often miss as we fly from meeting to meeting and crushing task lists with the vigor of a Spartan warrior. While his inward exploration matches the vast, meandering tangle of the interconnected spaces in the Metropol, a few thoughtful intimations eased out of the Russian noble that seem most relevant today.
The Count prioritized finding space for free thinking and noted in his observations that the majority of others did not. He was puzzled by the mechanical nature driving many of the people he saw on the streets moving through their days.
"In the early years of the twentieth century, there were those of his acquaintance who brought a new sense of urgency to their slightest endeavor. They timed the consumption of their breakfast, the walk to their office, and the hanging of their hat on its hook with as much precision as if they were preparing for a military campaign. They answered their phone on the first ring, scanned the headlines, limited their conversations to whatever was most germane, and generally spent their days in pursuit of the second hand."
The Count is not aloof or lazy. He moves in a manner that is purposely-unrushed and almost removed from the time-ordered world. Since most of us didn’t grow up in Russian nobility, full immersion into this philosophy can prove challenging, but what if you considered dipping your toe into a domain governed by presence and observation? How much of what drives us requires our immediate attention? It's okay to take time to meet yourself in moments of silence. Small sparks can reveal gems that radiate into all areas of your life.
People evolve and the most enlightened people seem to embrace the idea of an ever-evolving truth that is built through interaction, exchange, and experience over time. While the truth can be relative to a moment in time, The Count suggests employing reconsideration rather than letting one moment define an eternity.
"After all, what can a first impression tell us about someone we've just met for a minute in the lobby of a hotel? Why, not more than a chord can tell us about Beethoven, or a brushstroke about Botticelli. By their very nature, human beings are so capricious, so complex, so delightfully contradictory, that they deserve not only our consideration but our reconsideration - and our unwavering determination to withhold our opinion until we have engaged with them in every possible setting at every possible hour."
Perspective and beliefs can harden over time making it more difficult to embrace new ideas. Everything around us is in constant change. In fact, we embody change from the smallest atoms in our bodies to the latest interpretation of what is beautiful. We are in a state of becoming, so discounting a particular version as the final product seems counterproductive. In our interactions, have we given the person on the other side of the table the opportunity to reveal themselves? Or do we find the most logical pattern and render an efficient determination?
While these ideas are not new, maybe they present a way back from the hustle and the fray into a more connected experience. These lessons live within us if we are open to listening to what they have to say. Our heroes live in stories and songs and so can our teachers. Even if they are fictional high members of Russian society locked up for opposing those in power.
