A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles

At five o'clock on the twenty-first of June, the Count stood before his closet with his hand on his plain gray blazer and hesitated. In a few minutes, he would be on his way to the barbershop for his weekly visit, and then to the Shalyapin to meet Mishka, who would probably be wearing the same brown jacket he'd worn since 1913. As such, the gray blazer seemed a perfectly suitable choice of attire. That is, until one considered that it was an anniversary of sorts-for it had been one year to the day since the Count had last set foot outside of the Metropol Hotel.

But how was one to celebrate such an anniversary? And should one? For while house arrest is a definitive infringement upon one's liberty, presumably it is also intended to be something of a humiliation. So both pride and common sense would suggest that such an anniversary might best be left unmarked.