Review of Jhumpa Lahiri's The Namesake

Our backgrounds define us - where we grew up, family beliefs and traditions, education, friends. But what happens if pieces of your background clash leaving you torn between the accepted norm and long-standing tradition? What if a part of who you are makes you stand out in the wrong way, a bad way? What if that part is your name?

While Jhumpa Lahiri's novel "The Namesake" revolves around an Indian family, the Gangulis, transplanted in America, the story's main focus is on the eldest child, Gogul, and his association with Bengali tradition, or lack of it, through his first name.

Bengalis have two names - a good name that is used in public and a pet name used among family. Gogol's parents Ashoke and Ashimi, products of an arranged marriage, want a grandmother to name their firstborn. Circumstances prevent the grandmother's chosen name to ever be known and the two young parents must come up with a name in order to put something on the birth certificate, otherwise their child cannot leave the hospital. Ashoke suggests Gogol, the last name of his favorite author, a name that helped shape part of Ashoke's own past.

As a child, Gogol finds nothing wrong with his name. It isn't until he gets older and begins to assimilate among his white, Northeastern friends, the Jasons and Colins, that he realizes just how much his name sets him apart. His name isn't even Indian. It's Russian.

Throughout the second half of the book, Gogol changes his name to Nikhil, which then becomes Nick. He moves to New York to become an architect, not a doctor or an engineer. Gogol dates an upperclass girl named Maxine and he falls into the comfortable effortlessness that is her life. Rarely does he speak to his own family, preferring to be with Maxine's, finding himself enamored with their actions, not embarrassed as he would be around his parents.

Until tragedy strikes. It is then that Gogol realizes how much he needs his own kind. He reconnects with his immediate family, including his younger sister, Sonia. At his mother's request, Gogol begins to date a Bengali girl from his youth, Moushami. Their relationship is based on familiarity, being the outcast, the shared traditions of a Bengali upbringing, the constant need to fit into the American life. But neither of them truly knows who they are or what they want. And by book's end, it is clear that the only way to find some happiness and contentment in life is by knowing, accepting, and understanding yourself.

Lahiri writes using little dialogue, which both inhibits and enhances the story. Readers may find it slow-paced and long-winded at times, asking themselves whether what they are reading is privileged information or being shared from one character to another. However, Lahiri's writing is so delicate and precise that it's like walking through a poetic art film. She puts the reader at the scene giving them all the details, making them feel each moment of pain, loss, desire, happiness, and confusion. She teaches us something about who we are and what stories we carry from generation to generation.