Théo d'Or ’s Reviews > A Gentleman in Moscow > Status Update

Bonjour, Théo !

The quote and your reflection made me feel nostalgic. The book is excellent, and reading it in December feels like taking stock of the year that’s ending and making plans for the year ahead. For Capricorns, that reflective period runs even deeper. I always feel as though I’m in a kind of suspension until my birthday, as if my year only truly begins on 17 January, the day I was born. I imagine you feel something similar — just one day later. And so you wait one more day.

Merci.

Yes, I feel it too, Celeste. That sense of holding still,
of not quite belonging to the year that's ending or the one that hasn't yet begun. Somehow, knowing you're just one day ahead makes that pause feel less lonely.
For us, the year doesn't really open until mid-January. Maybe that's why this time feels so reflective, because we're preparing for our own start. I'II wait one more day, knowing that beginnings don't need to be rushed. I remember when Rick said " It's December 1941 in Casablanca. What time is it in New York ? " Time, in that film, is always suspended, as you feel - caught between past and future. That's how this season feels to me.
Here's looking at you, on the 17th. I will follow, one day later, grateful to be walking this reading path with you.

Merci également, Celeste.

Bonjour !

I appreciate the way you see the world — it’s anything but dogmatic, and that clarity shows.

Merci.

That means a lot to me, Maria, truly..I think clarity comes from being willing to sit with uncertainty, and not needing to have all the answers. Part of why I can see the world that way is because of people like you,
who reflect things back with such clarity. You have always had a way of noticing what matters, and naming it gently. And I appreciate that. I might not be dogmatic, but I do hold on tightly to certain ideas until something ( or someone ) - gently challenges me to see them differently, as I see my red skies , in my paintings. We are each born with a certain way of seeing the world, something that's just part of us. But it is a beautiful thing when someone else shares your vision. It makes you feel a little more understood, à little less alone.

Merci, Maria.

Such a companionable reflection. Is there anything more beautiful than sharing the same red skies — those of dawn, of dusk, or both? It’s always a pleasure to exchange thoughts with you.
Merci, Théo.

There isn't. Sharing the same skies, whether at the beginning or end of the day - means we're looking
in the same direction, even if we're standing in different places. That's quietly beautiful, Maria. And when we do speak, it is like naming the same color in different languages, not identical, but resonant. And that, more than anything, feels like belonging..

I’m so glad I convinced Mª to create a Goodreads account… I had no idea you two would get on so wonderfully. And here we are, the two of us on our terrace, slathered in sunscreen — French brand, naturally.

Merci, Théo.

You, lucky ! Here everything is wet. Even the water...But the warmth of summer will come, and I will walk along the beach, peacefully watching the Arabs passing by...And thinking how lucky I am too, to have such friends . They will walk with me, always, as time goes by...

Merci infiniment, to both of you..

 Maria et moi, nous sommes les Dupond et Dupont de Hergé. Merci. Bon week‑end, Théo...

Alors, moi, je suis Milou !
Toujours là, pour mes deux détectives historiennes préférées. Un jour, je connaîtrai leur histoire mieux que la mienne, grâce à leur générosité :))

:)) Merci, Théo....Bon week -end....

Bon week-end à vous aussi ! Que la joie vous tienne compagnie jusqu'à lundi. On se retrouve sous la Croix du Sud, comme d'hab.