Just As Bad As Gogol With the Name-Related Hangups

While watching the movie adaptation of Jhumpa Lahiri's The Namesake, I wanted to cringe every time someone mispronounced a character's name.  So.  Awkward.  Whenever Maxine said "Ash-ima" I just felt really embarassed for her.  And then I started to realize: I have a really weird hangup about names.

First of all, I pronounce everything wrong.  Everything.  And it's not even always from ignorance, sometimes my mind just shuts off and I'll say something in a completely bizarre way.  For instance: a few weeks ago, I was singing along to Green Day's rock-opera song "Jesus of Suburbia" and when I got to the line

"The space that's in between insane and insecure"

I heard myself say

"...inane and insecure"


I paused, and wondered why I would even mispronounce that.  Why would I just drop the 's' from the middle of a word?  I don't know.  Problematically, I will do this with people's names all the time.  I know what their name is, I know how to pronounce it, but then at the last minute my brain panics and second guesses itself.  It's bizarre.

So unintentionally, I've placed a lot of emphasis on people's names.  I tend not to really refer to people by name directly, at least not after initially getting their attention, because it just feels weird to me.  It actually creeps me out a bit when someone overuses my name, as in when I get customers at work who insist on using my name after every sentence.

"Oh hello, Sarah.  Thank you, Sarah.  I'll have a turkey sandwich, Sarah.  Actually, Sarah, can you change my order to a  bowl of soup, Sarah?"

Seriously.  Why?

You don't even know me!  We met five second ago!  Stop using my name like that!

Okay.  Maybe I'm just as bad as Gogol with the name-related hangups.

The Most Terrifying Creatures in Chagrin Falls High School

Recently, I complained to a friend who does not take AP English about the fact that I had to start working on my data sheet.  Her response?  A rather forceful, "DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT THAT!  You're not allowed!"

Okay guys, let's face it: as AP English students, we annoy all of our non-AP friends on a daily basis.  We don't understand how much English has taken over our lives until we realize that, during data sheet season (starting two weeks before one is due and ending at about 3 in the morning the day of,) we bring up data sheets in almost literally every conversation we have.  We are ridiculous.  We talk about English class before class, during class, after class, online, in commons, and probably in our sleep.  Even in casual social settings, conversation will always drift to AP English, making everyone else feel uncomfortable, and slightly fearful.

I mean, who wants to mess with an AP English student?  We stay up until daybreak writing twenty page papers and survive on about three hours of sleep.  We analyze every bit of text we come across.  We throw out literary terms in normal conversation.  We memorize Shakespeare quotes.  And on top of all of this, most of us take several other grueling AP classes.  And God forbid something should interrupt an in-class essay...

We are terrifying, terrifying creatures.

We are AP English zombies.

No One Wants a Fairytale Ending.

Or at least, we don't really want a happy ending when it comes to literature.

I came to this conclusion through a long sequence of thoughts that began with comparing The Namesake to Othello, specifically considering our in-class discussions about both.  Back when we read Othello, we talked a lot about conflict and confrontation, and how some of us just really wanted Othello to accuse Desdemona or Desdemona to stand up for herself or something.  The suspense and dramatic irony building up to Othello's eventual murder of Desdemona due to their unresolved and misconstrued conflict caused us to anticipate and enjoy the eventual disaster of their marriage far more than we probably should have.  Similarly, we all want Gogol and Moushimi to finally reach the point of conflict.  And when I say we, I really mean that I want them to.

My personal opinion on confronting others about your issues remains the same in regards to Othello, The Namesake, or real life.  While sometimes true honesty hurts, I believe that knowing how someone really feels has far more positive effects in the long run, and I think that ignoring a conflict that you have with someone only puts off an inevitable fight.  Still, why do I want Gogol to confront Moushumi so badly?  Option 1: I want Gogol to escape his marriage.  Option 2: I really just want to see them fight.

I'll admit it: I don't really want to see this book end with a happily-ever-after.  So far, it has portrayed life, realistically, as both joyous and painful.  Conflict within literature drives interest, and if the conflict suddenly halts, we're left feelings sort of robbed.  Sure, sometimes it's good when everything ends neatly and you get a sense of closure--but not all of the time.  Sometimes, we want the characters we read about to fail, so that we can say, "Oh, I wouldn't make that same mistake."  Even if we would.

Name Issues and College Apps: Just Your Average Teenage Drama

A lot of people seem to be pondering the theme of names and their significance again, which relates, of course, to The Namesake, but also to many of our personal lives.  As seniors in high school, we will soon go off to college and become "adults."  Well, at least we'll try.  So much of being an adult seems to rely on your name-- everything from legal documents to shopping receipts to accident reports require identification.  If you're unhappy with your name, then you see it printed on everything that makes your life official, everything that identifies you as a member of society and an individual.  Some of us are at the age where we can legally change our names, and though, as a child, I had moments where I honestly wanted to change my name, I don't think that I could anymore.  I wouldn't want to deal with what Gogol goes through in The Namesake, how he tries to change his identity completely when he changes his name, and loses a part of himself in the process.  Over the course of high school, I've changed immeasurably, and I don't think that changing my name would accomplish anything other than trying to become someone else, which I don't want to do.

Otherwise, my life now focuses around college applications, and I envy those who have already received acceptance letters.   I wouldn't mind the application process except for the essays.  Oh, those essays... I have no problem writing 22 page data sheets, but a one page essay about why I want to go to a particular school stumps me.  In some ways, I guess that analysis has become a comfort zone for us AP English students, and when we have to break outside of that and just write about ourselves and our desires, we panic because we can't hide behind literary devices.  Or maybe that's just me?  Feel free to comment.

Gogol and Moushumi: Imminent Failure

Today in class we talked a lot about the character of Moushumi from Jhumpa Lahiri's novel The Namesake, and most of us decided that we really do not like her at all.  And we have a lot of justification for this opinion.  She cheats on her loving husband with a balding middle-aged unemployed man who she met in high school, and honestly she seems to have little self-respect.  I question whether she really loves Gogol at all, or if she just loves the idea of having a husband.  Personally, I think the latter more likely.  However, I think that the problems with their relationship come from both sides--Gogol and Moushumi can never find happiness together because they want different things.  We talked a lot in class about the expectations that both halves of the couple had going into their marriage, and it seemed like Moushumi had many more expectations than Gogol.  Actually, we could not figure out what Gogol wanted from the relationship.  I honestly think that he fears loneliness and so seeks out other people.  We have discussed in class before how Gogol does not seem to have any friends, or really anyone else in his life besides Moushumi.  He clings to their marriage, even as it falls apart, because he does not know where else to go or who else to turn to.  He has his family, but he has spent so long trying to escape familial responsibility that he cannot simply regress to spending all of his time with them.  Gogol's neediness drives Moushumi away even more, in my opinion.  She cannot deal with keeping her devotion on one person, and feels bitter when she finds herself acting like a devoted wife, as when she turned down the fellowship to study in France.  Part of her bitterness comes from her fear of ending up like her mother, most likely, but her internal conflicts, combined with Gogol's, create a disastrous mess.  In chapter eight, when they first started dating, I believed that they cared about one another and had a deep and meaningful bond.  Now, their relationship quickly dies.  Everything about it seems contrived and forced, from their anniversary dinner to the way that they go to sleep every night, kissing and then turning away from each other, their physical actions mirroring their mental divergence.  I don't really know where their relationship will go from this point, but I honestly wish that they would just end my suffering at having to read about their dull, insubstantial marriage, and separate already.