He sees death in the face, Ashoke Ganguli, an October night, India, when the train derail, the wagons crowd in a flash. He saves him the story he is reading in the moment of the accident: gogol, the coat. At lantern lumen, someone sees the pages of the book scattered around the fields: the young man raising him, with the latest forces, some sheet is still alive. Grateful to the Russian writer, seven years later, in America, Ashoke Ganguli decides to call Gogol the first born firstborn. But when he grows, as he overlooks the "new" world, Gogol Ganguli finds insulso, annoying, that name that is a surname, nor Indian. He then moves away from the parenters and family traditions, until a tragic event obliges him to return to him.