The greatcoat
I saw The Namesake the other night. For those in the know, the movie follows the life of Gogol, son of two Indian immigrants to the United States. Not only was Gogol born in the U.S., his parents gave him a helluva awkward name that he just can't shake.
Over the years, Gogol experiments with fluent English, weed, guitar, and various blonde girlfriends. After his father dies, Gogol meets and marries the daughter of a longtime family friend. She cheats on him and breaks his heart. She says, "It wasn't enough that we were both Bengali." And he replies, "That's not why I love you." They divorce. At the end, covered in life's bruises, he returns home and tells his mother that his wife left him for a man named "Pierre." His mom says, "I'm so sorry, I should never have pushed you to call her." He replies, "Mom, it's okay. For the first time in my life, I actually feel free."
Divorce is terrible, but not all marriages are meant to last forever. I expected to relate to the characters in The Namesake, to feel their struggles and cultural mismatches as my own. And I didn't. My parents were never those parents. My Dad is too loud and angry, my Mom too educated. One of my friends once told me, "Your family doesn't strike me as very Indian - culturally." I was pissed off at her, because how is she supposed to know what that means? How can she so casually pass judgment on something that has defined our entire lives? I kept these feelings to myself, of course.
No culture is a monolithic institution, we all relate to it in our own ways. At one point, Gogol asks his father, "Why this name, Dad? Why did you call me Gogol?" (Gogol, by the way, is the famous Russian author of The Overcoat. He's also a lunatic.) And his Dad replies, "We all came out of Gogol's overcoat."
What I carried away from this film is the idea that we're all coming out of various overcoats, awkward as it sounds. We all come from somewhere, we all have a set of values, behaviors and prejudices we associate with home. The most difficult thing about college is realizing that each of us has come so far, but we're still trying so hard to hold onto things that remind us of home. It's why students start attending church when they hated it for years. It's why I spent hours playing piano in those stuffy classrooms in the music buildings. It's why...well, I wonder how much of "finding yourself" is just "finding your way back."
What I liked about The Namesake is that it recounts that journey, but the main character doesn't end up in the same place he started. If Gogol can return to a better home than he left, can't we all? Or, as one of the other characters puts it, "Go ahead. Grab a backpack and get on a train and see the world. You will never regret it."
Over the years, Gogol experiments with fluent English, weed, guitar, and various blonde girlfriends. After his father dies, Gogol meets and marries the daughter of a longtime family friend. She cheats on him and breaks his heart. She says, "It wasn't enough that we were both Bengali." And he replies, "That's not why I love you." They divorce. At the end, covered in life's bruises, he returns home and tells his mother that his wife left him for a man named "Pierre." His mom says, "I'm so sorry, I should never have pushed you to call her." He replies, "Mom, it's okay. For the first time in my life, I actually feel free."
Divorce is terrible, but not all marriages are meant to last forever. I expected to relate to the characters in The Namesake, to feel their struggles and cultural mismatches as my own. And I didn't. My parents were never those parents. My Dad is too loud and angry, my Mom too educated. One of my friends once told me, "Your family doesn't strike me as very Indian - culturally." I was pissed off at her, because how is she supposed to know what that means? How can she so casually pass judgment on something that has defined our entire lives? I kept these feelings to myself, of course.
No culture is a monolithic institution, we all relate to it in our own ways. At one point, Gogol asks his father, "Why this name, Dad? Why did you call me Gogol?" (Gogol, by the way, is the famous Russian author of The Overcoat. He's also a lunatic.) And his Dad replies, "We all came out of Gogol's overcoat."
What I carried away from this film is the idea that we're all coming out of various overcoats, awkward as it sounds. We all come from somewhere, we all have a set of values, behaviors and prejudices we associate with home. The most difficult thing about college is realizing that each of us has come so far, but we're still trying so hard to hold onto things that remind us of home. It's why students start attending church when they hated it for years. It's why I spent hours playing piano in those stuffy classrooms in the music buildings. It's why...well, I wonder how much of "finding yourself" is just "finding your way back."
What I liked about The Namesake is that it recounts that journey, but the main character doesn't end up in the same place he started. If Gogol can return to a better home than he left, can't we all? Or, as one of the other characters puts it, "Go ahead. Grab a backpack and get on a train and see the world. You will never regret it."
No comments:
Post a Comment