Tras la lenta recuperación de un terrible accidente ferroviario y un matrimonio arreglado con la joven Ashima, Ashoke Ganguli decide abandonar su cómoda y previsible existencia en Calcuta, aceptar una beca en el Instituto Tecnológico de Massachusetts y mudarse con su esposa a Boston. Allí nacerá su primer hijo, que por azares del destino acabará llevando por nombre Gógol en honor al célebre escritor ruso. El niño, hijo de bengalíes, ciudadano estadounidense y de nombre ruso, crecerá entre korma y hamburguesas, música de los Beatles y clases de bengalí, viajes a Calcuta, donde a él y a su hermana se los considera extranjeros, y ritos hindúes celebrados en suelo estadounidense; pero, sobre todo, crecerá extrañado y perplejo ante su propio nombre.

ENGLISH DESCRIPTION

Jhumpa Lahiri's Interpreter of Maladies established this young writer as one the most brilliant of her generation. In The Namesake, Lahiri enriches the themes that made her collection an international bestseller: the immigrant experience, the clash of cultures, the conflicts of assimilation, and, most poignantly, the tangled ties between generations.

The Namesake takes the Ganguli family from their tradition-bound life in Calcutta through their fraught transformation into Americans. On the heels of their arranged marriage, Ashoke and Ashima Ganguli settle together in Cambridge, Massachusetts. An engineer by training, Ashoke adapts far less warily than his wife, who resists all things American and pines for her family. When their son is born, the task of naming him betrays the vexed results of bringing old ways to the new world. Named for a Russian writer by his Indian parents, Gogol Ganguli knows only that he suffers the burden of his heritage as well as his odd, antic name.

Lahiri brings great empathy to Gogol as he stumbles along a first-generation path strewn with conflicting loyalties, comic detours, and wrenching love affairs. With penetrating insight, she reveals not only the defining power of the names and expectations bestowed upon us by our parents, but also the means by which we slowly, sometimes painfully, come to define ourselves.