Moscow Kremlin

The Moscow Kremlin appears as Moscow’s political and spatial center, but the Count sees it from a distance: its electric windows announce the return of Russian governance, while the stars above it dwarf its brilliance. Later, the city’s rings and roads let him locate the Kremlin from the roof of the hotel, making it a landmark against which he measures his uncertain relation to Moscow.

Political Center and Night Sky

From the roof, the Count sees the ancient city of Moscow and the Kremlin, which has again become the seat of Russian governance after two hundred years. Its windows shine with electric light despite the hour, suggesting a political power so newly possessed that its occupants remain awake. Yet the earthly display does not hold the scene for long. Against the majesty of the constellations, the Kremlin’s brightness is diminished; the Count recognizes Perseus, Orion, and the Great Bear, whose apparent permanence makes human power seem small by comparison.

A Center by Which to Read the City

On a later night, the Count looks toward Moscow from the hotel roof and identifies the Boulevard and Garden Rings by the spacing of the street lamps along the major roads. These concentric routes lead the eye inward to the Kremlin, with Russia extending beyond them. The Kremlin is therefore more than a distant illuminated building: it anchors the city’s visible arrangement, the point around which the Count understands Moscow’s geography.

The Kremlin and the Exiled Observer

The Count’s view of the Kremlin is framed by separation. On the earlier occasion, a summer breeze draws him onto the roof and recalls earlier summers in St. Petersburg and at Idlehour; on the later one, he surveys a city that is and is not his. The Kremlin remains fixed at the center of Moscow while his own place in that city is unsettled. Its renewed political importance sharpens the contrast between belonging to one’s native country and being able to inhabit it as home.