Being more than 700 pages longs, it was truly a long, arduous journey for me to read The Museum of Innocence. I liked the book, but there were too many a times when I felt like I couldn't read anymore. It was the love and obsession that Kemal felt which kept me going on. I wanted to know the extent of it and to know his ultimate fate.
How clichéd but unlikely the story was! Love indeed knows no bounds. Yet, I wonder whether Füsun really knew what love was. Did either of them? Or was it just a strange case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder on Kemal's part and indifference and materialistic views on Füsun's? I never could decipher their thoughts.
But Orhan Pamuk has spent six years to write this book and the sentiment is not lost on me. I did associate with The Museum of Innocence at certain points in the story but I didn't like the title. Specifically, the word innocence.
It was a good book. However, the description of objects, the caresses and the never-ending thoughts about the past, lost the charm after a hundred or so pages. All I wanted was to read the last chapter and be done with it. So on the whole, I may forget the book but never a major chunk of Kemal's feelings; they hold a certain beauty. They took me to another world and a new one at that.