Snow

The first thought that struck me when I read about Orhan Pamuk's winning the Nobel for Literature was that finally, I've read a Nobel Prize author before (s)he won the Nobel. My second thought was that it's a definite sign of growing old.

Pamuk had come highly recommended by the Milo-man, but somehow I'd never gotten around to reading him. As Milo-man threatened fasts unto death et al, I finally took the plunge last month when I began his latest work, Snow. And it mesmerised me. It spun webs around me thick and fast, and I emerged it from it, 3 weeks later, awed by the book. At one point, I actually thought the book would sit up and talk to me with words of wisdom and sadness - it was that good. And no, I wasn't smoking hallucinatory substances, thank you very much.

More interestingly, when I'd just begun Snow, DK2 happened to see the book, and mentioned that Pamuk was in the front-running for the Nobel. I didn't think much of it, till I found out how clairvoyant DK2 was. Did you make any money on that call, mate?