By Simon Sebag Montefiore
Inspired by means of a real tale, prize-winning historian and acclaimed novelist Simon Sebag Montefiore explores the implications of forbidden love during this heartbreaking epic of marriage, adolescence, possibility, and betrayal that unfolds in Stalin's Moscow through the bleak days after global struggle II.
As Moscow celebrates the motherland's excellent victory over the Nazis, photographs ring out at the crowded streets. On a close-by bridge, a teenage boy and girl—dressed in conventional nineteenth-century costumes—lie lifeless. yet this is often no traditional tragedy, simply because those aren't any traditional childrens. because the son and daughter of high-ranking Soviet officers, they attend the main elite institution in Moscow. was once it an twist of fate, or homicide? Is it a conspiracy opposed to Stalin, or certainly one of his personal terrifying intrigues?
On Stalin's directions, a ruthless research starts into what turns into referred to as the kid's Case. formative years around the urban are arrested and compelled to testify opposed to their pals and their mom and dad. As households are ripped aside, all types of secrets and techniques come spilling out. Trapped on the middle of this witch-hunt are pairs of illicit fanatics, who study that issues of the center designated a poor rate. through turns a darkly subtle political mystery, a wealthy historic saga, and a deeply human love tale, Montefiore's masterful novel powerfully portrays the phobia and drama of Stalin's Russia.
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Additional resources for One Night in Winter: A Novel (P.S. (Paperback))
Sophia couldn't take her eyes off Stalin. As an actress, she spotted how he appeared to swap ahead of her eyes, jogging occasionally with quickly little activities, sometimes like an awkward goose, frequently extra like a stealthy panther. She was once sitting among Satinov and Mikoyan, the main courteous and stylish of the leaders, who have been, ordinarily, uncouth and dreary. while she appeared round, she observed such a lot of them sported the telltale archipelago of crimson spots on their cheeks, the indicators of alcoholism and arteriosclerosis. She spotted the grotesque Beria making eyes at her around the desk. ‘I want he could examine somebody else,’ she whispered to Satinov. ‘You are dressed to be admired,’ spoke back Satinov, who looked as if it would Sophia to be uncharacteristically demanding. ‘Wasn’t Serafima assembly along with her Pushkin membership acquaintances this night at the Stone Bridge? ’ ‘I imagine so, yet I by no means understand the place she is going those days,’ Sophia stated with a sigh. ‘We comprehend much less approximately our kids than we think,’ Satinov agreed. ‘It concerns me. ’ ‘And they comprehend even much less approximately us! Thank God! ’ And Sophia laughed huskily. Twenty stodgy classes – blinis and caviar, borscht with cream, red meat Stroganoff, sturgeon, suckling pig, Georgian wines and Crimean champagne, brandy and vodka – have been served by way of the waiters Sophia famous from the Aragvi in addition to the Metropole and nationwide inns. Stalin stood. Silence fell. He spoke in his Georgian tenor, unusually excessive and tender, toasting the Russian humans ‘without whom none folks marshals and commanders will be worthy a rattling! ’ Then he grew to become to the generals, beginning with Marshal Zhukov, whom he invited to return and clink glasses with him. Sophia spotted that Stalin downed his glass of vodka at each one toast, and guessed that his carafe used to be filled with water. whilst he toasted Admiral Isakov, Satinov whispered to Sophia: ‘How’s Isakov going to stroll all that means? ’ – Isakov had misplaced his leg within the warfare – yet Stalin appeared to comprehend the place the admiral was once sitting, for he threaded in the course of the tables to the a ways finish of the corridor and clinked glasses with him there. ‘That’s so touching! ’ Sophia stated. Ten, twenty, 40 toasts have been inebriated, and she or he misplaced count number until eventually by surprise, unusually, it used to be her flip. ‘Sophia Zeitlin! ’ The breath left her physique and he or she felt fairly on my own within the significant corridor. ‘Your attractiveness encouraged our squaddies in darkish instances! ’ by some means she walked over to him, fifteen ft that looked like a mile. Stalin kissed her hand: ‘Katyusha! ’ he toasted. ‘An instance to all Soviet womankind. ’ How he had elderly in the course of the conflict, she notion as he stood sooner than her. A paunchy previous guy, gray, grizzled, his pores and skin yellow with pinpricks of purple in his cheeks. yet what a good, noble head, what eyes. while the toasts have been over, Stalin and the Politburo filed out, yet Sophia discovered she may by no means manage to sleep after a lot wine, vodka and pleasure. She couldn’t move domestic. She desired to pass on for a nightcap. Marshal Shako winked at her. after which she remembered Satinov’s rigidity, his query approximately Serafima, and, as a girl who listened to her instincts, she known as for her driving force and instructed him to rush domestic.