The Man of the Crowd
The Man of the Crowd is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe that Svetlana Nazarova invokes during a tense dinner with Anton Gorodetsky at the Maharajah restaurant, using it as a pointed literary analogy for Anton's enforced strategy of staying in public spaces to avoid the Day Watch's hunt. The reference crystallizes the thematic resonance between Poe's tale of a man who cannot bear to be alone and Anton's own desperate need to remain surrounded by people at all times, a condition imposed by the body-swap concealment orchestrated by Boris Ignatievich.
Literary Reference and Immediate Context
When Svetlana asks Anton if he remembers Edgar Allan Poe, he initially misunderstands, thinking she means the author himself, and replies that Poe "died too long ago." Svetlana corrects him, specifying that she meant Poe's stories, and Anton immediately guesses the title: "The Man of the Crowd." Svetlana laughs quietly and confirms the connection, saying, "Yes. You're in the same fix as him right now. You have to stick to crowded places." Anton acknowledges the parallel with a wry remark: "Fortunately I'm still not sick of those places just yet." The exchange occurs over a glass of Bailey's each, as they order food and the waiter draws certain conclusions about the two women—Anton in Olga's body and Svetlana—that neither cares to correct.
Thematic Parallel to Anton's Predicament
The reference to "The Man of the Crowd" operates on multiple levels. Poe's story follows an unnamed narrator who, after an illness, observes the crowds from a London coffeehouse window and becomes fascinated by a decrepit old man whose face bears a "idiosyncrasy of expression" that compels the narrator to follow him through the city's throngs, only to realize the man is driven by a pathological fear of solitude—he must always be among people. Anton's situation mirrors this: having swapped bodies with Olga to evade the Day Watch's accusation that he is the Maverick killing Dark Ones, he is under strict orders never to be left alone, even for a moment. The boss has instructed him to eat, sleep, and even go to the bathroom with Svetlana as a witness. The crowded restaurant becomes a temporary refuge, just as the streets of London are for Poe's protagonist.
Svetlana's Insight and the Deeper Irony
Svetlana's choice of this particular story reveals her growing understanding of the Watch's manipulative structures and her own critical intelligence. She is not merely making a casual literary joke; she is diagnosing Anton's situation with precision. The irony is layered: Poe's story is about a man who cannot stop observing and following, while Anton is the one being observed and hunted. Yet both characters are trapped by an external compulsion that dictates their movement through urban space. Svetlana's reference also subtly critiques the Watch's methods—the same organization that claims to protect people has forced one of its own agents into a state of perpetual public exposure, a form of psychological confinement that echoes the old man's pathology. The conversation then shifts to a broader discussion of Poe's status as a potential uninitiated Other, with Anton explaining that many poets are potential Others but that Poe was too psychologically unstable to be initiated, a judgment that carries its own dark implications for the nature of the Watch's selection process.
Significance in the Narrative
The invocation of "The Man of the Crowd" serves as a compact literary shorthand for the entire predicament of the second story arc. It encapsulates Anton's loss of autonomy, the inversion of his role from hunter to hunted, and the psychological toll of being forced into constant visibility. The reference also marks a moment of intellectual intimacy between Anton and Svetlana, a shared cultural touchstone that momentarily lifts them above the immediate crisis. Svetlana's ability to deploy this allusion demonstrates her rapid maturation as an Other, moving from a naive novice to someone who can analyze her own situation through the lens of literature. The story's title becomes a quiet motif for the condition of being trapped in the gaze of others—whether the Day Watch, the Inquisition, or the anonymous crowd itself—and for the impossibility of escape when one's own identity has been rendered unrecognizable even to oneself.