by Jhumpa Lahiri
This is one of those books that I feel inadequate to review properly. I could never do it justice. Fortunately most of the book blog world already knows about this book and its greatness so my review can be brief.
Gogol Ganguli is the namesake but the book encompasses more than just his story as a confused Indian/American trying to find his place. It is just as much about his parents and their struggle as Bengali immigrants in America and how the two generations scrape against each other, never able to understand each other.
I appreciated the details that authenticated life for each character. To know everything that actually takes place, even those things that no one witnesses, even the deep down feels of self-doubt and regret that no one shares. While the story is about the inability of immigrants to really fit it, it could just as easily fit as a description for anyone who ever felt different; in other words everybody everywhere. None of us truly appreciates where we came from and none of us really feels totally like we fit in in the world around us. I think that is where the beauty of this story lies. You are the namesake and so am I.