Mussert: prophet or putz?

I read James' blog about how Mussert is never really living and, to paraphrase "let one girl ruin his entire life."
I hadn't really thought of loathing the character, myself. Actually, I liked him, even found his bookish, sort of nerdy refusal to leave home, kind of endearing in a pathetic kind of way.
I did, however, see his problem with clinging to things which are already gone, or dead, his love life the former and latin and himself being the later.
BOth of my roommates have now enjoyed the book, after my ranting about it for an entire weekend, and they had some things to say on the subject.

Roommate 1:"He's such a self serving, snide little fuck."
"Snide?" I said, "Fuck?"
"At some point he even says he's practiced the art of getting people to leave him alone by using big words..."
"I remember that"
Roommate 2: "He makes fun of that chick's husband for being athletic just because he loathes the world outside his apartment."
Roommate 1: "Yea, I think she even says that he could stand a couple of situps."
"But he fades into universal oneness, embraces all casts all faces and all nations (to quote Wu Tang) and ascends to the level of the acceptant dead where there are all those colors and then the one, radiant, white light!"
Roommate 1: "Yea... but he's a fucker."
"???"
"Look, the fact that the one thing in his whole life he wants to spend any time thinking about is this brief affair with some woman, the climax of which is him tearing through playground, getting his ass beat by her husband only so that he can go into a depression because DIndia dies and he could never admit to himself that he found her attractive..."
So there you have it. It seems allot of people sort of hate Mussert. The man deffinetely has (had?) some problems, but I dont know. Does anyone else want to weigh in on this one? How did you like Mussert as a person? As a narrator?