WHAT'S IN A NAME
Mood: great
Listening to: Les Paul & Mary for out of 1953
I love searching out names and go gaga with delight when newspapers and popular magazines have revised the old chestnut of what were the year’s most popular names and a spate of Rebeccas, Britney's, and Rhianon's Jacks, Joshuas came up. Even the good old-fashioned Victoria – or Tori for short has risen again. Not too many Kylies or Nicoles though.
So! What’s new? We’ve been following a trend that’s centuries old, that of naming our babies after family members, saints, personalities and events.
Right at the start of the last century when the Anglo-Boer War was in full swing, there were babies christened after famous military officers, there were heaps of Kitcheners and Roberts' – two of that period's most famous generals. Edward, Alice, Alexandra and a gaggle of Georges were top of the list.
One music hall comic even devised a song wherein he named the baby after every British and Boer general plus some battle sites. The Music Hall even ran a competition for would-be performers as to who could recite the whole of the song without a hitch.
One guinea ($2.20) was the prize.
The twenties gave us Elizabeths; the thirties, Margarets, after the princess; Clarks (that’s Gable, not Kent) and, Shirleys, Miss Temple of course.
In the 15th century, William Shakespeare wrote:
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose. By any other name would smell as sweet.”
Master Will left a legacy of some wonderful quotes, a lot becoming clichés, mores the pity and regrettably so did the above.
What was he thinking when he wrote Romeo and Juliet.
It’s a sure bet that as he mulled over suitable names for his main characters, the names Fred or Gertrude never even made it to the first draft.
Fred and Gertrude? No way. It would have been laughed out of Ye Olde Globe Theatre, even though the said Gertrude may have been as pretty as a rose.
So Romeo and Juliet it was. Names suitable for a three-tissue tragedy.
The rose, queen of flowers, would lose its appeal were it called, let’s say, a pumpkin.
Let’s not deride the pumpkin. An admirable vegetable, great in a pie or on the dinner plate.
Without doubt the namer of the pumpkin had a good reason for naming it such.
Now let's go back to the rose. The rose has become synonymous with romance and song and to send your love one dozen long-stemmed “pumpkins” just doesn’t cut it.
Think of all the girls named Rose. Would Rose Kennedy have had the same clout as mother of America’s “first family” were she named “Pumpkin” Kennedy or imagine Barbra Streisand singing “Second Hand Pumpkin” in Funny Girl.
How about Janis Joplin and “The Pumpkin” or even, “Wrap Up Some Red Pumpkins for a Blue Lady” or that old Irish favourite: “The Pumpkin of Tralee.”
Lionel Rose the boxer would have had a tough apprenticeship had he been surnamed “Pumpkin.”
No way Master Will, a name is a name is a name.
So! What is in a name? Of course, a name identifies living or inanimate things and in the case of humankind derived from familial, occupational or geographic origins.
For example. William, son of John; Jack the Baker, or Mary, who lives near the apple tree, simply became, William Johnson, Jack Baker and Mary Appleby respectively.
People's facial or bodily features were also used as identifying the person, e.g. a tall guy would be dubbed Longshanks; a fair-headed person would be named Fairhead and so on.
Some cultures without being aware of any political correctness give the female members of the family a feminine derivation of the family name.
Thus an Icelandic girl born to a Mr and Mrs Jakobs would be known as Ms. Jakobsdottir (daughter) whilst her brother would be a Mr. Jakobsen (son).
Russia and some surrounding Eastern European countries does the same thing with the suffix “ov” for the boys and “ova” for the girls, for example, Smirnov and Smirnova. Just check out the international tennis greats.
Yet it goes unnoticed in these halcyon PC days.
The old nursery rhyme: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me,” may not have been exactly the go for some gentlemen of 17th century England.
A name can be a ridiculous fate and these gentlemen had to put up with monikers, which would cause one heck of a giggle today, but meant quite a good deal in the sixteenth century.
Take, for example Kill Sin Pimple. True! This gentleman of means lived in Sussex in 1609.
Records show that Master Pimple had served on a jury with neighbours named: Fly Debate Roberts, More Fruit Fowler, God Reward Smart, Fight The Good Fight Of Faith White, and Be Faithful Joiner.
Poor guys. Seemed that their folks wanted to turn them into religious bumper stickers.
What a riot it would have caused at a high school roll call.
Another gentleman, was forced to go through life as Flie Fornication Andrewes. Now this might have brought on the need to utilise initials as preferred names. He’d certainly have gotten less shtick with F.F. Andrewes. Has a nice executive ring about it.
Were this chap a councillor and even mayor of our city - my good buddies at the newspaper where I earn my daily bread would have had a field day having to put Cr. F.F. Andrewes' full name in print.
I'd give my radio newsreading colleagues a minute before they 'cracked up' when referring to the councillor by his full name.
Master Shakespeare’s, “A rose by any other name”, did however, advance the careers of these famous and infamous personalities.
Sir Harry Rodger Webb looks great in Who's Who and no doubt would instil confidence to shareholders, had he taken a corporate path. No, it was as Cliff Richard he got the fame and fortune.
An English rose, christened Diana Fluck, became an aspiring actress. The name, even with its spelling and pronunciation problems was not the name she wanted up in lights. A new name, Diana Dors and a healthy helping of peroxide, did.
Gerry Dorsey wasn’t making it as a pop singer despite his great voice and good looks. A sense of the ridiculous and a name change to Engelbert Humperdinck rocketed the personable Dorsey to stardom.
Nice old Reggie Dwight with his folksy name writes some drop-dead-fantastic songs, but does so as Elton John – whoops! Sir Elton John.
Bill Beadle found his bank account swelling with some great movies and a name change to William Holden.
For those game enough to mix it with one Marion Morrison had better watch it, because it was as John Wayne that he reigned supreme as king of the “knock-em-down, shoot-em-up” movie cowboys.
Movie and record producers were not happy with the name Frances Gumm but as Judy Garland she certainly flew over the rainbow.
On the opera scene, a certain Helen Porter Mitchell decided to change her name. Nope! Neleh – a reversal of her given name didn't cut it as Neleh Mitchell. So she decided diminutise her Christian name, drop her surname and take on a new one with an exotic sound derived form her birthplace.
Thus we had Nellie Melba.
Nellie being the familiar for Helen and Melba from Melbourne.
Peach Mitchell or Mitchell toast doesn’t have the same ring as Melba.
If the name Shickelgruber makes you want to giggle; perhaps Hitler, as in Adolf, will make you think again.
Josif Dzhugashvili could have cut it as a Russian Orthodox parish priest, yet it was as Josef Stalin he achieved infamy.
To be fair, a name change doesn’t signify success, people such as Ray Martin, Brett Stevens, Alan Jones, Sam Riley and Jana Wendt haven’t changed theirs and they’re doing okay, and in today’s multicultural society it doesn’t matter. Paul Bongiorno, Helen Kapalos, just to cite a couple of examples.
Talking about things multicultural, continental names have such a nice ring to them yet to translate them back to English, the name loses it.
One could say “Cobblers” to racing greats Michael or Mel Schumacher and be perfectly correct. Shoemaker or cobbler is the English translation.
Julius Church wins the hearts of millions of women worldwide. We know and love him better as Julio Iglesias. Iglesias being Spanish for church.
Ferrar, translated to English is good old Smith. The late actor José Ferrar in reality was plain old Joseph or Joe Smith.
Would you prefer to be seen behind the wheel of a Smiths or Ferrari.
Joe Green and Jim Jameson wrote some great operas. Never heard of them?
Whoops, their Italian names are Guiseppe (Joseph) Verdi (Green) and Giacomo (James) Puccini (Jameson). Puccini is derived from the curious Italian system of adding suffixes and then chopping of the root word. Thus Giacopucci becomes Pucci or Puccini, both from James. Confused? Then so must be the Italians with our grammatical intricacies.
So! If your names makes you cringe, you have the right to change it to suit your career and personality unlike the rose, which remains forever a rose, and no one has come up with a better name -- thank goodness.
