In Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake and Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, both protagonist try to analyze and come to terms with their fathers’ deaths. They encounter sceneries and items that evoke memories of their past with their fathers. Through their memories, they are able to connect with their fathers who are no longer with them and find solace.
In The Namesake, Nikhil’s train rides triggers his the story of Ashoke’s story of how that “other train he has never seen, the one that nearly killed his father. Of the disaster that has given him his name” (Lihari 185). Nikhil has been constantly discovering himself. He finally realized the importance of his name. It’s a reminder of his father and everything his father has done for him. His name itself triggers memories. The birthday when his father gave him The Short Stories of Nikolai Gogol. Ashoke refrains from telling Nikhil the real reason why that is his gift. Ashoke “will never forget that night, it no longer lurks persistently in his mind, stalking him in the same way” (Lihari 78). Traces of Ghosh’s death linger in Nikhil’s name. Lihari manipulates powerful memories to make Nikhil’s namesake that much more significant.
In Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, the only link Oskar had to his father was the key he finds in the envelope with “Black” written on it. He goes around from apartment to apartment looking for the last remnants of his father. Foer’s method of extracting remembrance is through the images he uses. The “flipbook” of Oskar’s father falling pushes Oskar to wish for a safer and more peaceful time, the quotidien routine of his life with his father, the jeweler. One early morning, Oskar returns to his mother and his mother explains how his father had called beforehand confirming he “was on the street, that he’d gotten of of the building. He said he was walking home” (Foer 324). That line allows Oskar and his mother to realize what a loving father he was. He didn’t want his family to panic. Foer is able to draw out intense emotions through the remembrance of the deceased and what they signify.
I reminded of the deceased family members that imparted fond memories to me. Whenever I cook steamed red snapper with ginger, scallion and soy. I reminisce about my late grandmother in Canton who taught me how to cook my first dish at the age of five. I recall the pungent aromas and the loud cleaver chopping away. Like Ashoke tells Gogol about the time they forgot the camera when they wanted to capture the sunset on the docks. “Remember that you and I made this journey, that we went together to a place where there was nowhere left to go” (Lihari 187).
