In the novel "Snow," you will find something more beautiful than politics, despite the political controversy it stirred up: those very intricate and numerous scenes about identity, ideas, history, memories, and misery in the mountainous city of Kars, perched on an Anatolian peak under the snow. Despite its small size, it appears to be a complex global and national labyrinth of worlds, ideas, and events: extremist students aspiring to near-impossible ideals, the poor, dissident Kurds, remnants and historical evidence of Armenian history in the city, the abandoned cathedral, eyes of the night and visitors at dawn, and homes warmed by electricity that avoids billing meters, and televisions on all day but with the sound off. Writing is "the solace of the soul" or existence itself, for the writer; this is how Pamuk defines himself very briefly, even if writing is a form of self-expression and love.