On 21 June 1922 Count Alexander Rostov - recipient of the Order of Saint Andrew, member of the Jockey Club, Master of the Hunt - is escorted out of the Kremlin, across Red Square and through the elegant revolving doors of the Hotel Metropol. But instead of being taken to his usual suite, he is led to an attic room with a window the size of a chessboard. Deemed an unrepentant aristocrat by a Bolshevik tribunal, the Count has been sentenced to house arrest indefinitely. While Russia undergoes decades of tumultuous upheaval, the Count, stripped of the trappings that defined his life, is forced to question what makes us who we are. And with the assistance of a glamorous actress, a cantankerous chef and a very serious child, Rostov unexpectedly discovers a new understanding of both pleasure and purpose. HE CAN'T LEAVE. YOU WON'T WANT TO.

This is one of those books that divided the plot-focused and style-focused NUBClub readers. I should say that nobody at NUBClub hated this book -- it was more a question of whether you thought it was a good book or just an ok one. The stuff that worked was clear to everyone. As a slightly magical space, the hotel Rostov was trapped in was well described, and his surrogate fatherhood of the young girl who grows up alongside him in his imprisonment is charming. There's a cast of funny and touching characters, and there's a set of sweet vignettes that are well rendered. In that sense, it's a light and enjoyable read. The issue is that many of us did not think it effectively dealt with the political issues and history of the setting. The whole point of the book is that Rostov was frozen in time in the hotel as massive changes in Russian society happen outside. That should be a equally massive reveal that has a lot of emotional weight, but Towles wastes it by underexposing it in certain cases and revealing it poorly in others. Rostov's philosopher friend is intended to be the foil that demonstrates this plot, and the tragedy of his and his lover's rise and fall are meant to communicate the changing fortunes and suffering of the people, but they feel very extraneous to the core story and very ham-fisted. If Rostov is meant to be trapped in the hotel, shouldn't we be trapped too, so we can be just as shocked when he finally does leave at the end of the novel? Could things that were described in reports from the outside instead have been hinted at, so we share Rostov's sense of isolation? On the other hand, horrible things are happening outside. Can we really believe that Rostov could have such an idle and magical experience in the hotel without any consequence? Perhaps this is something about Russian culture we just didn't understand. In the end, many of us felt that the book just wasted its potential, and while it wasn't a chore to read, the cute story did not make up for the lack of dimension and complexity that the setting demanded. Others of us just thought the magic worked and didn't need the novel to do more than tell its story well. Plot vs literary style is a common fault line at NUBClub, and with this book, which side you of that divide you're on will pretty much tell you your take on this book.