Lahiri, Jhumpa: The Namesake
The Namesake
Writer: Jhumpa Lahiri
Genre: Fiction
Pages: 291
So within the next month or so, you're going to see a strange variety of books reviewed in this journal. For starters, I'm UBER behind on my challenge reading with emerald_ibis, as well as behind on the books she's dared me to read. Second, I've got lots of little random things I'm either reading FOR grad school or BECAUSE of grad school. Just thought it'd be fair to warn you, in case you wondered about any rhyme or reason going into my book selections.
This particular title was my March/April challenge. I was drawn to this book for its prose, and I've developed a recent interest in novels focusing on Indian/Hindi cultures. I've got a few more on my shelf, but just haven't had a chance to read them.
This one I enjoyed. It was interesting reading this after reading so much science fiction and fantasy lately, because there truly is a difference in not only writing styles, but structure as well. Stuff that's completely frowned upon in genre work (well, it is in workshops, at least) is completely common in this book, and for the most part, it worked. Though while I enjoyed the book, I found myself completely furious by the end of it, even though I couldn't put it down.
I could be cynical and say there's no such thing as plot in mainstream/literary fiction. The stories are almost always about a character or a group of characters, and the book is about following their lives. In this case, it follows a Bengali family who immigrates to America, raise their children away from home and away from the traditions they know and love, and what happens to those children. Specifically, it focuses on their first-born son, Gogol Ganguli, who was named after a Russian author who has particular significance to Gogol's father.
It's a touching, but mostly sad story. While I couldn't relate in terms of culture, I definitely felt for Gogol's troubles and attitude towards his name, which was so different and unique that it immediately made him stick out like a sore thumb. We follow Gogol through his childhood, teenage years, college years, and finally his adult life.
What makes this story so tragic for me was the witnessing of Gogol growing up with his cultural heritage, then rejecting it, only to gravitate back towards it when he loses his father. And what killed me was once I finally thought he'd found happiness after a series of unsuccessful and bad-for-Gogol relationships (the winner being another Bengali woman he'd know as a child), even THAT went to the crapper when she had an affair, which completely infuriated me and broke my heart.
It hit me because despite the fact that Gogol turned his back on his parents (what teenager/young adult DOESN'T?), you really wanted him to be happy. You really wanted him to find his roots, and it was so obvious he loved Moushumi. It also broke my heart because I could really identify with Moushumi's need for independence even within a marriage, and I could recognize all the signs of self-destruction even when Gogol couldn't. Oh, I wanted them to work it out. I wanted her to be able to come to peace with who she is and where she is in her life, but it wasn't meant to be.
So the book didn't end happily on that note for Gogol. However, the focus of the book was always about reconnecting with one's roots and heritage, so in truth, the ending is pitch-perfect for Gogol, as he finally accepts his namesake, and in turn, embraces that one special connection he has with his father.
It's a good book. Lovely prose and lovely bits of character sprinkled through-out, and I was always intrigued by the bits of culture I was introduced to. Lahiri handled that well by making something that's alien to American ways of thinking into what it is: a beautiful culture that is accessible, if only one wants to learn.
The book still makes me mad, but I couldn't imagine it ending any other way. It ends how it needs to, and it really is a satisfying ending. Well worth the read for those readers of mainstream/literary fiction.
Next up: Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier