Sunday, March 23, 2014

Life after Death

  Chapter 8 of The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri starts off a year after the sudden and tragic death of Gogol's father, Ashoke. Gogol's life is surprisingly different than before; he frequently visits his mother and Sonia, and he's ended his relationship with eccentric Maxine. (Thank God). However, it seems as though Gogol finds himself more lost and nostalgic than he's been throughout the novel. Before his father's death, Gogol strives towards a solid, concrete goal: he wants to detach from Indian culture and his parent's traditions, and he effectively does so. But after Ashoke's death, Gogol no longer feels like he has to separate from Indian culture, or separate from his parents, because he wants to hold on to the culture that represents his father. Gogol works so hard to become "Nikhil" that he doesn't know how to fill that empty void when he no longer wants to be that man.
    Gogol is nostalgic for a life with his father was alive; "He enjoys the passivity of sitting in a classroom again, listening to an instructor, being told what to do. He is reminded of being a student, of a time when his father was still alive," (Lahiri 190). He ignores his father for so long, that when the time to visit him "expires", Gogol finally sees his mistake; he seemed to appreciate Ashoke and the memories they shared only after he dies. 
    Then, Gogol meets Moushumi: a woman he'd known growing up, but had never really bothered to notice. At first Gogol is hesitant to meet with her because his mother Ashima suggests it, but he agrees and has dinner with Moushumi. He is surprisingly intrigued by her honesty and intellect, and admires her beauty. I thought that Gogol would be uninterested in her because of her Bengali background, but instead the similarity has the opposite effect; "He had not expected to enjoy himself, to be attracted to her in the least...He decides that it is her very familiarity that makes him curious about her," (Lahiri 199). Moushumi provides Gogol with comfort, because they share many commonalities. Both Moushumi and Gogol come from Bengali families, they strayed from the paths expected of them, and they even look similar. Gogol feels like Moushumi understands him, because of the similarities in culture. He thinks that it is what connects them. 
    I'm happy for Gogol. Of all the girls that he's been involved with, I like Moushumi the most. She is smart and respectful and witty, and I do think that she understands Gogol on a much more personal level than the girls in his past relationships. I hope that his marriage with Moushumi lasts. 

Monday, March 17, 2014

New Name, New Man?

    While still in high school, Gogol attends a college party with his friends; when a girl asks his name, he says his name is "Nikhil". Gogol takes on a new persona and becomes a boy with confidence. For one night, Gogol is someone else -- someone he feels is better and desirable, all because of the new name. "He feels at once guilty and exhilarated, protected as if by an invisible shield. Because he knows he will never see her again, he is brave that evening...he doesn't tell them that it hadn't been Gogo who'd kissed Kim. That Gogol had nothing to do with it," (Lahiri 96).
    Before heading off to college at Yale, Gogol legally changes his name to Nikhil. There is an instant shift in his personality. However, I think that Gogol so badly wants to become "Nikhil" that he is caught between himself before the name change and the Gogol after the name change. He feels like he needs to live up to the "other" Gogol. "He wonders if this is how it feels for an obese person to become thin, for a prisoner to walk free...There is only one complication: he doesn't feel like Nikhil...At times he still feels his old name, painfully and without warning," (Lahiri 102, 105). It seems like Gogol basically becomes the standard college boy once he arrives at Yale: going to parties, getting drunk, sleeping with girls. I understand that he desperately wants to break away from his parents and their expectations, but I'm annoyed because this isn't the way to do it. I side with Ashima and Ashoke when they say that Gogol has the potential to become very successful; he has a passion for learning, and even continues his studies outside of what he needs to know.
   But it's his time away at college that brings him closer to "Nikhil" and farther away from his parents. Gogol morphs into his new name; he sketches, he smokes, he dates (non-Indian) girls. Ashima and Ashoke don't entirely approve of the change in their son, but the distance between the old Gogol and new Gogol only seems to grow. I hope that Gogol will soon realize it is only natural for his parents to want more for him.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Ashima and Ashoke: The Namesake

Even though I'm only two chapters into The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, I already really enjoy it, and I can tell Lahiri has a gift for storytelling. Lahiri depicts scenes that are vivid and feel very real; as I read, I feel like I'm watching a movie on a big screen. Because of her ability to portray emotion so well through her descriptive writing, I connect with the characters on a personal level. For example, I loved the scene where Ashoke holds Gogol for the first time. "Ashoke has never seen a more perfect thing...Being rescued from that shattered train had been the first miracle of his life. But here, now, reposing in his arms, weighting next to nothing but changing everything, is the second," (Lahiri 24). Before reading that part of the second chapter, I was unsure of how Ashoke would handle becoming a father. He seemed a little distant from Ashima, frightened at the prospect of fatherhood, and too focused on work. But after I read that scene, where Ashoke holds the baby and claims he has "...never seen a more perfect thing" I saw that he would undoubtedly love and care for the child.
    I also like how Lahiri gives insight on the backgrounds of the couple: who they are, where they come from, how they got to Cambridge, Massachusetts. Both Ashima and Ashoke traveled to America from Calcutta, India. They came from traditional Indian families, who paired them together for marriage. Although the marriage was arranged, over time Ashima and Ashoke learned to love each other. 
   They moved to America for Ashoke. This is clear when, after Ashima has the baby, she realizes that she does not want to raise Gogol in a such an unfamiliar place. She wants to raise him in India, where she had grown up, and where he would be surrounded by family and Indian culture. "[Ashoke] looks at Ashima, her face leaner, the features sharper than they had been at their wedding, aware that her life in Cambridge, as his wife, has already taken a toll," (Lahiri 33). Ashoke would do anything for Ashima because he loves her, but is he willing to give up his life in Cambridge just because of her homesickness? Ghosh, the man that Ashoke met on the train years ago - the train that would derail and kill most everyone on board, not counting Ashoke - told him that it was "'...his greatest regret, coming back [to India],'" (Lahiri 33). I don't think Ashoke would want to return to live in India, even for Ashima. 
  I also wonder what they will name Gogol, since it's only a pet name. Will they keep the name or change it? 
   I'm interested to see what will happen in the next few chapters. I can only hope that everything turns out well for Ashima and Ashoke, because as of right now I'm invested in their characters. 

    

Sunday, February 9, 2014

The Underground Man.

   At first the Underground Man in Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky confused me. Dostoevsky's writing style took me a while to understand, so I reread the first chapter twice. However, the Underground Man confused me because he contradicts himself. He has a diseased liver, but refuses to treat it, "I think my liver is diseased...I don't treat it and never have...I refuse to treat it out of spite," (Dostoevsky 3). When he says he refuses to treat his liver out of spite, he reminds me of those kids in class that sass the teacher just because they want to prove a point. But I've always wondered, what point are you trying to get across, exactly? The Underground Man realizes his spite has no purpose; he knows that he's only hurting himself.  
  The Underground Man lives in a city with an unhealthy climate, "I am told the Petersburg climate is bad for me...But I am going to stay in Petersburg," (Dostoevsky 6). By this point, I understood the character more. I began to realize that he makes choices that hurt him because he enjoys suffering. 
   He even admits he takes pleasure in his suffering, "I reached the point of feeling a sort of secret, abnormal, despicable enjoyment in returning home to my corner on some disgusting Petersburg night," (Dostoevsky 7). I don't understand, exactly, why The Underground Man is this way, but I think that he would rather stay secluded and secure in his agony than fail to be an "active" man. Maybe the Underground Man is afraid of failure? He claims that boredom drives him to live and think this way, but I'm not sure if I believe him. 
   I also question the Underground Man's sanity. He sometimes makes randoms statements that seem almost hysterical, "For instance, I have a friend. Bah, gentlemen! But after all he is your friend, too; and indeed there is no one, no one, to whom he is not a friend!" (Dostoevsky 20). And who is he talking to? What gentlemen? Are the "gentlemen" supposed to us, the readers?  
   I'm very interested, and a little nervous, to see how the rest of Notes from Underground plays out. Hopefully the Underground Man isn't that crazy. 
  • A photo of the author, Fyodor Dostoevsky. 

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Beyond the Single Story of the Ibo People and Teenage Girls



Those that choose to believe single stories view only one side of a person or a community.  In Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe proves wrong the single story of the Ibo—helpless and insensitive people who need saving— through his protagonist Okonkwo, just as Jay Asher creates a representative for imperfect teenage girls with his character Hannah Baker in Thirteen Reasons Why. Hannah shows that not all girls fulfill the stereotype that teenage girls are shallow. However, Okonkwo’s quick temper, fear of failure, and fear of weaknessand Hannah’s trust issues, lack of self-confidence, and self-inflicted death—display the negative qualities of the Ibo people and teenage girls. By creating flawed protagonists, Chinua Achebe and Jay Asher acknowledge the positive and negative attributes of the Ibo people and teenage girls to present more complete and realistic stories of their subjects.  
Achebe dispels the single story of the helpless and insensitive Ibo people by displaying the positive attributes of the community through Okonkwo. Okonkwo becomes the village’s greatest wrestler and a successful yam farmer, eventually rising to a position of higher power, “He neither inherited a barn nor a title, nor even a young wife. But in spite of these disadvantages, he had begun even in his father’s lifetime to lay the foundations of a prosperous future…[he] had risen so suddenly from great poverty and misfortune to be one of the lords of the clan,” (Achebe 18, 26).  Okonkwo works hard and earns the respect of his fellow Ibo people. Because he started from nothing, Okonkwo’s perseverance to establish a powerful name for himself in his village shows that, as a whole, the Ibo people are not helpless. Okonkwo partakes in the killing of Ikemefuna, a boy he considered his son, because the Oracle commands it.[Though he projects a strong exterior, the days that follow Ikemefuna’s murder haunt Okonkwo because he cares for the boy, “Okonkwo did not taste any food for two days after the death of Ikemefuna…He felt like a drunken giant walking with the limbs of a mosquito. Now and then a cold shiver descended on his head and spread down his body,” (Achebe 63). Although he followed the word of the Oracle, the death of the boy racks him with guilt. Okonkwo’s deep affection for Ikemefuna, and his reaction to his death, proves that even the strongest Ibo men are capable of emotions that would be considered “weak” in Umuofia.
Although Hannah’s flaws essentially cause her death, a few of Hannah’s other qualities represent the positive attributes of teenage girls. When Hannah first moves to a new town, she meets Jessica, and the two become fast friends, “After the meeting, Jessica and I did hang out…neither of us were coffee drinkers, but it seemed like a nice place to chat…we both got hot chocolate. She ordered it thinking it would be funny,” (Asher 58, 59). Hannah’s ability to make friends easily can be found in teenage girls as an outgoing characteristic. Soon after she starts high school, Hannah meets Justin and instantly becomes infatuated with him. Hannah dreams about her first kiss with Justin, “I’d climb to the top of that rocket and let my head fall back against the steering wheel. The night breeze blowing through the bars calmed me…in my dreams, my first kiss took place at that rocket ship. It reminded me of innocence,” (Asher 24, 25). Hannah’s aptitude for making friends and her fantasies about Justin relate to the outgoing and creative characteristics found in most teenage girls .  
Okonkwo’s flaws complete Achebe’s story by showing the negative attributes of the Ibo people. Okonkwo often takes his anger out on his wife and children, “Without further argument Okonkwo gave her a sound beating and left her and her only daughter weeping….his anger thus satisfied, Okonkwo decided to go out hunting,” (Achebe 38). Although the villagers might value Okonkwo’s controlling demeanor, his actions reveal the harsher, male-dominated side of Umuofia. However, while Okonkwo looks down upon outward displays of emotion, he secretly lives in fear of failure, “But his whole life was dominated by fear, the fear of failure and weakness…it was the fear of himself, lest he should be found to resemble his father,” (Achebe 13). He refuses to let the reputation of his father—a man of gentleness and idleness—loom over him. Okonkwo also lets his fear affect his relationship with his son Nwoye. The Ibo people revolve their culture around strong men, but a man will be considered weak if he shows the qualities of a woman. Okonkwo lashes out at others because of his fear that the villagers will perceive him as weak, or similar to his father. Even though he was not forced to kill Ikemefuna, Okonkwo still participates in the murder, “Okonkwo drew his machete and cut him down. He was afraid of being thought weak,” (Achebe 61). Okonkwo’s fear of weakness proves that in Umuofia, image determines a level of power for men. When the missionaries arrive in Umuofia, and Okonkwo returns from exile for accidentally killing a boy, he kills a missionary out of rage, “He confronted the head messenger, trembling with hate, unable to utter a word…Okonkwo’s machete descended twice and the man’s head lay beside his uniformed body,” (Achebe 204). Okonkwo’s rebellion against the missionaries bringing change into the Ibo culture proves that a side of the Ibo people is violent in nature to foreigners. Okonkwo’s unwillingness to conform to the changes in his village, and his anger at feeling weak compared to the missionaries, cause him to commit suicide.  
            Similarly to Achebe, Jay Asher dispels the stereotype of shallow teenage girls through the flaws of his character Hannah. Asher proves that teenage girls, often seen as one-dimensional and lacking in complexity, are capable of depth and should be taken seriously. However, sometimes, teenage girls feel too much, with the example of Hannah Baker. Hannah creates tapes and passes them down through a group of people that may have indirectly instigated her death. Within the tapes she recalls stories that take place in the months leading up to her suicide. The tapes begin with the story of Hannah trusting a boy too quickly; she regrets her decision when he starts a rumor about her, “A rumor based on a kiss started a reputation that other people believed in and reacted to…Betrayal. It’s one of the worst feelings,” (Asher 30, 13). Hannah’s reaction to her tarnished reputation shows the side of teenage girls that relies too heavily on image to determine self-worth. Hannah loses her will to live, which becomes evident within the cassette tapes as she explains the ways in which her schoolmates betray her. Hannah kills herself—after she voices her side of the story through the tapes—because of her insecurities and the depth in her sadness.  Hannah made the tapes with the intention of punishing others for not noticing her cries for help and for not taking her problems seriously, “I think I’ve made myself very clear, but no one’s stepping forward to stop me. A lot of you cared, just not enough. And that…that is what I needed to find out. And I did find out. And I’m sorry,” (Asher 280). Asher’s character exemplifies a teenage girl the opposite of shallow; Hannah Baker provides insight to a girl with raw, unfiltered emotions.
            Chinua Achebe and Jay Asher complete the stories of the Ibo people and teenage girls by creating flawed characters to represent both the good and the bad of their subjects. Hannah and Okonkwo fill in the gaps of the single stories in their communities by bringing a more realistic view to the stereotypes.






1. Asher, Jay. Thirteen Reasons Why. New York: Razorbill, 2007. Print.


2. Achebe, Chinua. Things Fall Apart. New York: Anchor, 1994. Print.






Monday, January 20, 2014

Things Are Starting to Fall Apart...

   Chapters 12-19 were the most eventful and exciting chapters I've read so far in Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. Okonkwo accidentally kills a deceased elder man's son, "In the center of the crowd lay a pool of blood. It was the dead man's sixteen year old son...Okonkwo's gun had exploded and a piece of iron had pierced the boy's heart," (Achebe 124). Okonkwo and his family are exiled from the village of Umuofia. He can return to the village in seven years, as opposed to never returning to the village, because he accidentally killed the boy.
    Okonkwo, along with his wives and children, travels to Okonkwo's motherland, Mbantu. There, the book introduces Uchendu, his mother's brother. Uchendu earned the spot as my favorite character in the  book with just one speech to Okonkwo, "A man belongs to his fatherland when things are good and life is sweet. But when there is sorrow and bitterness he finds refuge in his motherland. Your mother is there to protect you...And that is why we say that mother is supreme," (Achebe 134). He puts Okonkwo in his place, and I like that he is so firm but caring at the same time. To be honest, I've become a little annoyed with Okonkwo, and reading this scene between him and Uchendu eases my irritation. 
    The white men, or missionaries, move into the villages. I'm surprised to read that they do not force the villagers to convert, at least not at yet. Instead, the missionaries give speeches about God to inspire the villagers to convert to Christianity. "'We have been sent by this great God to ask you to leave your wicked ways and false gods and turn to Him so that you may be saved when you die,'" (Achebe 145). The missionaries could genuinely be trying to "save" the people of the villages, and they seem to be doing so peacefully, but I don't like how they disrupt the lives of the villagers. I agree with Okonkwo; I would be very angry if people invaded my village and started to change everything I'd ever believed in. 
     At the end of Chapter 19, Okonkwo and his family prepare for the journey back to Umuofia. Zwoye  is already back in Umuofia, because of his decision to convert to Christianity. Missionaries have built a church in Umuofia, which leads me to think that a lot of villagers have also converted. I'm nervous to see how Part Three of the book will play out.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Lisa Bu: The Magic of Books

Lisa Bu begins the TED talk explaining how, as a child, her parents made her think that she had to become an engineer in order to become a successful, happy adult. Lisa had been trained in gymnastics for two years, and the government offered to send her to a school for athletes on a scholarship, but her parents insisted she stay on the track to a well-paid job. She also explains how, after the gymnastics phase, she desperately wanted to become a Chinese opera singer. She went to great lengths to try to make this happen, even writing a letter to the principal of a Chinese opera school, but nobody seemed to take her seriously. At 15 years old, it became clear that any opportunities of turning her Chinese opera singer dream into a reality had passed, because one had to begin training Chinese opera from a young age for the necessary experience.

Lisa then explains how she turned to books for "parental advice". She certainly did not want to follow in her parent's footsteps in becoming an engineer, but she did not know what else she could become. However, Lisa found inspirations in the books she read. For example, she claims she found a role model in Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, because Jane was an independent woman.

One of my favorite parts of the TED talk was when Lisa excitedly says books "have given her a magic portal to connect with people of the past and present", and that with books she "knows she will never feel lonely or powerless again". Finally, Lisa says that "coming true is not the only purpose of a dream; it's most important purpose is getting in touch with where dreams come from, where passion comes from, where happiness comes from". With those last lines, Lisa's point really hit home with me. Without books, I don't think I would be the person I am today. I am inspired by everything I read, and I take away meaningful insight from every author (and character). Books allow me to dream and set goals for myself, which is exactly what Lisa Bu learned from them, too.