Book Review: Jhumpa Lahiri's "The Namesake"
Jhumpa Lahiri's "The Namesake" (2004)
Fitz E. Barringer
2006-05-20
The first word of Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake isn’t a word at all. It is a date. 1968, to be exact. But in many ways it is fitting that the opening line of Lahiri’s captivating novel takes the reader back in time, for much of the story is an examination of the tension between past and present. And it is that tension between what was and what is – never far from Lahiri’s or the reader’s mind – that drives the narration, colors the drama, and shapes the lives of the novel’s characters.
The Namesake begins by recounting the emotional struggles of an Indian husband and wife trying to make a new life in America. Ashima Ganguli, the pregnant wife, wrestles with an intense longing to be with her family and to share the experience of childbirth with her mother and father. Ashima’s husband, Ashoke, meanwhile, wants to provide a better life for his new son by earning a doctorate degree from a prestigious American university. While both characters want to build a better life in America, however, their pasts play a strong role in who they are and what they will become.
Ashima’s love of family, for instance, influences her to create a close-knit web of immigrant friends. This group practices Indian customs, speaks the Bengali language, and, in many respects, becomes a substitute family for the vast collection of relatives back in India. But for Ashima, the close relations between the immigrants become an excuse to avoid the customs of American life. Ashima is reluctant to learn to drive, she insists on wearing Indian clothing and eating Indian food, and for many years she lives without American friends. To a large degree, her life is consumed by recreating Indian culture in America.
For Ashoke, memories of life in India are less peaceful. A persistent limp in his right leg is a vivid reminder that the past is a burden that he carries with him every day. Indeed, as a young man, Ashoke was nearly killed in a tragic train accident – an accident that left him emotionally and physically shattered. The memories of that fateful night influence him to leave India and ultimately lead him to choose an unusual name for his son. Still, Ashoke, like his faithful wife, embraces his past in India and recognizes that it plays a significant role in his life as a father and an American.
If Ashima and Ashoke make peace with their pasts, however, their son, Gogol, spends much of the novel attempting to eradicate his heritage. This first becomes evident when Lahiri describes how Gogol and his sister resent childhood trips to India during which they are forced to interact with family and give up the material comforts of American life. Both children, it seems, would rather listen to the Beatles than embrace the Bengali culture that is such an enormous part of their parents’ past.
As Gogol grows older, his desire to escape his own past becomes more pronounced. When it comes time to apply for college, for instance, Gogol turns his back on his father’s alma mater and accepts a position at Yale. While in college, meanwhile, he refuses to study an “acceptable” immigrant subject like chemistry, engineering, or biology, preferring instead to pursue an interest in architecture. Such actions not only neglect the wishes of his parents, but also serve as a reminder that Gogol is uncomfortable with his upbringing. Unlike his parents, Gogol does not see himself as a stranger living in a foreign land. He wants to be seen as American – free of the expectations of a foreign land.
Gogol’s rebellion against his past reaches a crescendo the summer before he leaves for college. For many years, Lahiri tells her readers, Gogol had been uncomfortable with his name. Children teased him, teachers mispronounced the name, and Gogol, himself, saw the name as a burden. He often wonders how he can truly fit in with his American friends – or American girls – with a strange name like Gogol. Even worse, he feels none of his father’s affinity for Nikolai Gogol, the Russian author for whom Gogol is named. Perhaps it is inevitable, therefore, that Gogol must change his name. Still, the scene of Gogol marching into a Massachusetts courtroom shortly after his eighteenth birthday and telling the presiding judge that he “hates the name Gogol” seems like a betrayal of his past. But for Gogol, now known as Nikhil, the new name is a salute to his future – a future without having to justify or explain his confusing name.
Gogol, it seems, believes that switching his name can erase the complications of his past. But Lahiri knows better. While the characters in the novel slowly learn to accept Gogol’s new name, Lahiri always refers to her main character as Gogol. And her stubborn insistence on calling Gogol by his original name symbolizes that a simple name change does not alter the fabric of a person. Indeed, her refusal to acknowledge Gogol’s new name is not an act of disrespect. Rather, it is a symbol of something that Gogol must one day learn for himself: the past cannot be erased. The past is woven into the fabric of our beings.
Even Lahiri’s careful choice of words reinforces this point. Her elegant and flowing prose is occasionally marked by abrupt changes in tense. At the start of a chapter or the beginning of some new tale, for instance, Lahiri skillfully blends events of the past into events of the present by writing the scenes with vivid present-tense verbs. On such occasions, the effortless blending of tenses reminds readers that Gogol’s past was once his present. In this way, Lahiri does not simply describe events, she allows readers to live the moments along with her characters as the past becomes present – the present, past.
Yet Gogol’s inability to shake his own past is most evident in his relationships with women. In his early romances, he is careful to avoid any contact with his past or upbringing. India is rarely discussed, and his girlfriends are not allowed to meet his parents. With one woman named Maxine, in fact, Gogol attempts to become an entirely different person. He adopts Maxine’s carefree lifestyle. He listens to Maxine’s music. He drinks her wine. For a while he even lives in Maxine’s house, all in an effort to build a wall between his present and his past.
Even with all his efforts to the contrary, however, Gogol cannot ignore the memories of his past – his name, his parents, his Indian heritage. They have shaped his character and they define him as a human being. When the dynamics of his own family change after the death of a beloved family member, Gogol slowly begins to realize that he cannot simply walk away from who he is. For better or for worse he loves his family and their Indian customs. He even begins to realize that his passionate efforts to create an entirely new person are ultimately just reactions against his past.
For Gogol, therefore, much of the rest of the novel in consumed by attempts to make peace with his past. He begins to open up about his heritage in relationships, and he incorporates his family into his life. But like most experiences in life, Gogol meets resistance and hardships along the way. The years of resisting his past have made him uncomfortable in the present. Moreover, Gogol must realize that other people – some with whom he is very close – also need to come to terms with their own experiences. While the trials of life – and the trials of other people – oppose him, however, Gogol slowly becomes a student of his past. And the lessons he learns, Lahiri seems to suggest, pave the way for him to discover a peaceful future.
Yet whether Gogol accepts such lessons is something that Lahiri never fully reveals. Instead, Lahiri leaves much of The Namesake’s conclusion to the reader’s imagination. The reader can decide whether Gogol learns the lessons and embraces his past. In addition, the reader can decide what Gogol makes of his life. While the inconclusive ending leaves the reader thirsty for more, the lack of a definite ending is not a detriment to the novel. Rather, the omission of a concrete ending serves as final reminder of Lahiri’s focus on the tension between past and present. From the beginning The Namesake is a novel unconcerned with the future. The future is unpredictable. But, as Lahiri so often seems to suggest, the past could not happen any other way.
