Review: The Museum of Innocence

Orhan Pamuk is famous. He won the Nobel Prize in Literature.
This is what I had in my head when I started reading Museum of Innocence. The book is the story of a man's obsession with a girl. OP is clearly a good writer and I must say the translation was excellent; at no point did I feel like I was reading a book that wasn't originally written in English. But man, the book drags on!
I think what OP forgets is that I (the reader) am not in love with Fusun. There's 4 pages of "sometimes we would stand by the window, sometimes we would eat brinjals, sometimes i would leave late, sometimes we would go out.." not 1, not 2, not even 3 but 4 whole pages of this! in tiny miniscule print! Reading that bit really solves the mystery of the size of the book.
The story itself has no real mystery and an entirely predictable plot. The first part of the book is...scandalous. The second half is just obsessive. On some level, I could relate to it. I've been lonely and stalkery. I have that magpie-like habit of collecting objects and reliving memories through them. Despite this relatable-ness, at no point in the story do you feel like something important is happening. You're always just hoping that something important will happen and when the action finally arrives, it's over before you know it.
[In one Subhash Ghai moment, OP himself makes a guest appearance in the book. That was funny. ]
The book is well-written and while I wouldn't recommend it, I wouldn't tell you not to read it either. I think OP is a good writer. All he needs is a little perspective. If he would just concentrate on the right parts, and reduce the pages by half, it could make for a really nice story.