only read one book on the way here--the plane ride was pretty bumpy, which is not conducive to a good reading experience.
jhumpa lahiri's the namesake
a chapter of this appeared in the new yorker a year or so ago, and since i've had good experiences w/ novels that have appeared in the new yorker before, i picked this up for the airport. i was not disappointed in the least--lahiri really seems to capture the identity struggles of a first-generation american, and though her story is very bengali-specific, i think anyone with recently immigated relatives can relate to her themes. dealing with unusual names is certainly a problem that transcends culture. anyway, i read this book straight through and really enjoyed the story and its characters. a few of the end-paragraphs seemed a little forced, but otherwise i thought this book was very deserving of all its praise.
now, of course, i'm low on books. my mom is trying to get me to read something called good in bed. good thing i have give our regards to the atom-smashers squirreled away!
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