Snow, the book this time

I've finished reading Snow, by Orhan Pamuk (translated from the Turkish by Maureen Freely). It took me longer than usual to read this book -- I read Life of Pi in the middle of reading Snow. At first it was the overall sadness of the book that slowed me down, then it just became the book itself. I finished it because of a kind of contest -- it came down to that book or me.

How's that for a review? My real problem with the book is that I just don't care about any of the characters -- the only character with any promise dies as a teenage boy. The main character is a 42-year old man who can't make up his mind about anything. He's whiny, insecure, and worst of all, he doesn't think about anything besides chasing his own happiness throughout the entire 400 pages. The protagonist, a militant named Blue, says it best in a pithy quote about how when one only seeks his own happiness, he ends up miserable. I could give you the actual quote, but I already returned the book to the library.

If you must know, I did a very geeky thing and went looking for reviews of the book to see if I just completely missed the boat. Doesn't look like I did. John Updike reviews the book for the New Yorker and Margaret Atwood gives a review for the NY Times Book Review -- just in case you're interested.

So, can anyone recommend anything to read? I'm wide open.