The Namesake Nikhil/Gogol Ganguli Quotes

He is afraid to be Nikhil, someone he doesn't know. Who doesn't know him […] It's a part of growing up, they tell him, of being a Bengali. (3.19)

In kindergarten, Gogol tries on a new, more formal name – and doesn't like it one bit, even though having a pet name and a formal name is Bengali custom. What's interesting here is that he thinks changing his name just might change his identity. He'll become a different person. But Gogol, it's just a name, right?

But Gogol sounds ludicrous to his ears, lacking dignity or gravity. What dismays him most is the irrelevance of it all. (4.10)

The irrelevance of what, Gogol? If your name is so irrelevant, why does it bother you so much? Or does it bother you because you want your name to pack a punch, to say, "Hello world, I'm here!"?

Not only does Gogol Ganguli have a pet name turned good name, but also a last name turned first name. And so it occurs to him that no one he knows in the world, in Russia or India or America or anywhere, shares his name. Not even the source of his namesake. (4.26)

Gogol's name doesn't tie him to any specific culture, which is a big problem for our boy. If you don't belong to a culture, how do you handle the world as a whole? Where's your frame of reference? Whom do you look to for an example?

In history class, Gogol has learned that European immigrants had their names changed at Ellis Island, that slaves renamed themselves once they were emancipated. Though Gogol doesn't know it, even Nikolai Gogol renamed himself, simplifying his surname at the age of twenty-two from Gogol-Yanovsky to Gogol upon publication in the Literary Gazette. (5.1)

It turns out name changing has been a rite of passage for many immigrants to the United States. Maybe this is what makes Gogol so willing to change his name to Nikhil. Even though that name is Indian, and therefore foreign, it's still a way for him to participate in the immigrant experience.

"There's no such thing as a perfect name. I think that human beings should be allowed to name themselves when they turn eighteen," he adds. "Until then, pronouns." (10.113)

Gogol's attitude toward names is even more radical than his parents, who stick with the Bengali custom of pet names until they decide on a formal name. He seems to think that you can't know who you are until you're at least eighteen, so why have a name before then? This implies, of course, that a name has something to do with who you are. Do you put as much stock in names as Gogol does?

Without people in the world to call him Gogol, no matter how long he himself lives, Gogol Ganguli will, once and for all, vanish from the lips of loved ones, and so, cease to exist. Yet the thought of this eventual demise provides no sense of victory, no solace. It provides no solace at all. (12.24)

Gogol's identity is closely tied to his name. By the end of the novel, the idea that there might be a time where no family members will be around to call him "Gogol" saddens him. Maybe he likes that name a bit more than he realized, not because of how it sounds, but because of who calls him that.

Though there are only inches between them, for an instant his father is a stranger, a man who has kept a secret, has survived a tragedy, a man whose past he does not fully know. (5.87)

When Gogol finds out the source of his name it should be a moment of revelation right? An ah-ha moment, no? He has the chance to better understand his roots and his identity. But instead, he focuses on the fact that father has now become a stranger to him. Why do you think that is?

He didn't want to go home on the weekends, to go with them to pujos and Bengali parties, to remain unquestionably in their world. (6.2)

Unlike his parents, who yearn to be back in the world of their parents and families, Gogol wants to create as much distance between himself and his parents as possible. That means avoiding their foreign customs, which seem to bother Gogol most of all.

At times, as the laughter at Gerald and Lydia's table swells, and another bottle of wine is opened, and Gogol raises his glass to be filled yet again, he is conscious of the fact that his immersion in Maxine's family is a betrayal of his own. (6.54)

Gogol gets absorbed into Maxine's family, where he gets to live out the fantasy of having an Anglo-American family. But why does he have that family in the first place? What is it about his own family that isn't quite up to snuff?

He knows now the guilt that his parents carried inside, at being able to do nothing when their parents had died in India, of arriving weeks, sometimes months later, when there was nothing left to do […] Years later Gogol had learned the significance, that it was a Bengali son's duty to shave his head in the wake of his parent's death. (7.70)

As Gogol grows up, his attitude toward his family changes, and he realizes how much he loves them – but only after his father has died. It's too late to reconnect with his dad, but it might not be too late for him to learn about his Bengali roots.

For reasons he cannot explain or necessarily understand, these ancient Puritan spirits, these very first immigrants to America, these bearers of unthinkable, obsolete names, have spoken to him, so much so that in spite of his mother's disgust he refuses to throw the rubbings away.

The young Gogol finds comfort in the odd names he finds in the Puritan graveyard. Maybe they help him feel a little less foreign. Or maybe they help him realize that just about everyone is foreign in America.

Within minutes, before their eyes Ashoke and Ashima slip into bolder, less complicated versions of themselves, their voices louder, their smiles wider, revealing a confidence Gogol and Sonia never see on Pemberton Road. (4.31)

In a reversal, when they are in India, it is Gogol and Sonia who feel foreign and different, while Ashoke and Ashima are totally at home (and yet a bit foreign to their children, who are surprised to see their change). But do Gogol and Sonia feel completely at home anywhere, even in the United States? It's possible that their situation is even tougher than that of their parents, because they don't belong in America <em>or</em> in India.

She has the gift of accepting her life; as he comes to know her, he realizes that she has never wished she were anyone other than herself, raised in any other place, in any other way. This, in his opinion, is the biggest difference between them, a thing far more foreign to him than the beautiful house she'd grown up in, her education at private schools. (6.50)

What's funny here is that even though Maxine fits right into American life, and is living the American dream, she is foreign to Gogol. He has no idea what it's like to live a life like hers.

He is stunned by the house, a Greek Revival, admiring it for several minutes like a tourist before opening the gate. (6.12)

Part of Maxine's attraction for Gogol is her lavish family home, which is so different from the house at 67 Pemberton Road. One look at the Greek Revival, and you know this girl is loaded.

Thinking of his father living here alone in these past three months, he feels the first threat of tears, but he knows that his father did not mind, that he was not offended by such things. (7.50)

Not much of a home, is it? Gogol is depressed by his father's temporary apartment in Ohio, because it's an empty, lonely place. But it was also the last place his father lived, and that's a hard fact for Gogol to swallow.

And then the house will be occupied by strangers, and there will be no trace that they were ever there, no house to enter, no name in the telephone directory. Nothing to signify the years his family has lived here, no evidence of the effort, the achievement it had been. (10.11)

For most of the novel, Gogol avoids going home to his family's house because of his conflicted feelings about his Indian heritage. Now that it's about to disappear, he appreciates it for the first time. Is it too little too late?

It is as Nikhil that he loses his virginity at a party at Ezra Stile, with a girl wearing a plaid woolen skirt and combat boots and mustard tights. (5.33)

Gogol can only get up the confidence to hit on girls with his new name, Nikhil. Is that because he thinks the name Gogol is just plain unattractive, or because a new identity makes him bolder?

He cannot imagine coming from such parents, such a background, and when he describes his own upbringing it feels bland by comparison. (5.52)

The first girls Gogol dates are not Indian, and it is their American-ness that attracts him. This particular girl, for example, is from Maine and has divorced parents, which would be unthinkable in Bengali society, so to Gogol it's exciting and exotic.

[…] Gogol is reminded that in all his life he has never witnessed a single moment of physical affection between his parents. Whatever love exists between them is an utterly private, uncelebrated thing. (6.51)

These two are extremely anti-PDA. But does that mean that they love each other any less? Probably not. They're just private people. Their love is just between them, and it's nobody else's business.

And then he remembers that his parents can't possibly reach him: he has not given them the number, and the Ratliffs are unlisted. That here at Maxine's side, in this cloistered wilderness, he is free. (6.140)

Gogol views his romantic relationship as an escape from his past. Come to think of it, it's not clear why else Gogol is attracted to Maxine other than the fact that she is different from him, and different from his family. That's hardly the greatest foundation for a relationship. No wonder it eventually falls apart.