Tag Archives: locational names

Baby Name Dilemma: They Love a Name That Nobody Else Does

24 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by in Naming Assistance

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I recently received an e-mail from a father-to-be and blog-reader named Gabriel; technically I’m still on holiday, but this was urgent enough to bring me back early!

Gabriel and his wife Theresa are expecting a baby boy in only two weeks; unfortunately, the name they have picked out has met with a cool reception from family and friends.

The couple first met on Bondi Beach, and, like many Australians living near the coast, are strongly drawn to the ocean, which is cleansing and refreshing, and for a city-dweller especially, washes away the fatigue that comes from modern life. They want a name with a meaning connected to the beach and the sea. They are also very keen to use an Aboriginal Australian word for a name, feeling that this is a perfect way to honour their homeland.

They immediately fell in love with the idea of using Daku as a name. This is a name given to boys meaning “sand”, and apparently it is from one of the languages of north-west Western Australia. Not only did they love the sound of it, but the meaning seemed ideal. Not only did they meet and fall in love at the beach, but sand itself conveys the power of water, which gradually over millions of years wears down great rocks and boulders into fine grains. It therefore holds connotations of patience and persistence – qualities which they hope their son will learn to possess.

When they shared their choice with family and friends, others saw the name quite differently, and thought it was a choice which would lead to teasing. Basically their objections amounted to this:

  • Daku might be okay for a boy growing up in a hippie commune, but isn’t suitable for one growing up in a big city
  • It sounds like the phrase “dack you” – which in Australian slang, means that you are pulling someone’s pants down in a playful or spiteful manner
  • Daku is an Indian girl’s name, which could cause confusion further down the line
  • In Portuguese, daku is supposedly some sort of unsavoury slang (or maybe sounds similar to it)

Their families would much prefer a name which is clearly European and Christian – something along the lines of John, Paul, Daniel, or Xavier.

Gabriel and Theresa now have a dilemma on their hands: do they ignore everything their families and friends say and follow their hearts, or do they choose another name which will cause less controversy? With only a couple of weeks to go, they are starting to get a little stressed over it.

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Everyone has a particular bias in a debate, and I should declare mine straight away. I believe that it is the parents who get to choose their child’s name, not extended family, relatives, friends, or well-wishers.

I believe that loved ones have a perfect right to their own opinion, they have the right to (politely) make suggestions and share their concerns before the birth, and they have the right to be listened to respectfully. However, the final decision must lie with the parents.

Now you could take your story onto any name forum, and you will be able to find at least a dozen people who will advise you to just tell your family to butt out, shut up, and mind their own business in no uncertain terms, then move interstate so you don’t have to deal with them ever again. It’s easy advice to give, but I’m not sure it’s necessarily the best advice to follow.

For a start, obviously you love your family and don’t want to alienate them or cause a big family drama just as a baby is about to born and you need support more than ever. Second, occasionally the objections that family and friends offer have some validity, or make some sense. If you were planning to name your child Freddie Hoff or Penelope Ophelia Overton, a friendly hint might help you realise the mistake you were about to make. At the very least, they give you a taste of how others might see that name, and what response it could get. It’s better to have that information in advance.

As far as I can see, these are the choices the two of you have before you:

1. Go ahead with your original plan, and name your son Daku

Pros: You son will receive a name that you both love, and love hearing – moreover, a name which is a constant reminder of your love for each other. That’s incredibly special. You will have a wonderful story to share with your son when he asks, “Mum and dad, why did you call me Daku?” Maybe one day you can take him to Bondi and show him where his own unique life story and name story began, and when he hits a difficulty in life, perhaps you can show him the sand on the beach that he’s named after, and explain how it could only be made through the sea patiently grinding it down day after day, and never giving up.

Cons: Your family may not be happy with the choice you have made, or feel slighted that their dire warnings were not heeded. However, you have listened to everything they said and taken it on board, and you have also chosen his middle name, Rudolf, after Theresa’s father. You have pretty much already done your family duty. It’s not uncommon for family members to become reconciled or at least used to a “strange” name once they see it on their adorable grandson or nephew, and they may come up with their own pet name for him anyway.

I do feel that your family and friends have gone straight to the “worst case scenario” for the name, and some of their ideas are probably a little silly. I think Sydney is cosmopolitan enough to cope with the name Daku, and the slang issues seem a bit overboard to me.

“Dack you” is pretty dated slang now (although boys do seem to hang onto old slang more than girls), and in any case, most names sound a bit like something else. I find it hard to believe your son will suffer horribly because of his name, although naturally I can’t guarantee he will never be teased because of it. I must say that the name didn’t remind me of the phrase dack you.

The Portuguese slang term isn’t one I was able to find a reference to online, so doesn’t seem to be in general circulation. Unless you are planning to ship him to Portugal at some point, or you associate with many Portuguese people, perhaps this isn’t the big problem you fear.

Although Daku is a girl’s name in India, it’s a word and name used all over the world in many different cultures and in different contexts. In Japan it means “embrace, hug”; in Fiji it can mean “cousin”, and is also a place name; in Malay it means “I, me, myself”; in Hindi it can mean “bandit, pirate”; in Swahili it is related to the word “grasp, seize”; in ancient Sumerian it meant “executed”. It’s also a word in an invented language in the game World of Warcraft (no idea what it means).

When a word has this many meanings, it’s hard to get too worried if one or two are less pleasant than others. As well as a girl’s name, Daku is also a surname used all over the world, by people from a variety of ethnic backgrounds.

Realistically, what you will face with the name Daku is people not being sure how to spell it or stumbling over the pronunciation. When your son is very small, people may be unsure whether he’s a girl or a boy. People will say, “What an unusual name! Where does it come from?”.

I’m pretty sure once you explain it’s an Australian Aboriginal name meaning “sand”, 90% of people will just go, “Oh right then”. 10% will be interested enough to ask for more information (Most likely, “Do you have any Aboriginal heritage?” or “Why did you choose it?”). I do feel once they know the origin and meaning, most criticism they may have offered will be quashed.

I know that parents who have chosen unusual names find that although they do sometimes get some aggressive or rude comments, they also find many people who say, “Oh that’s a fantastic name”, “It’s so different”, “What a great meaning” and so on. It does tend to stick in people’s memories. You don’t usually get this kind of attention and enthusiasm if your child’s name is Daniel or John.

2. Please your family by choosing a standard European-style name

Pros: Your son will have a name that blends right in with everyone else’s. People will know how to say it and spell it. He won’t be questioned about his background or his name. His name will be in a style which fits in with his family and community.

I’d love to be able to say that your family will appreciate your sacrifice forever and shower you with praise and devotion, but they probably won’t. They may secretly despise you for giving in; they may resent you for resisting them until the last minute; they may figure that if you caved in on such a big issue, you will always cave in on smaller ones; some of them may still dislike the name you choose. They may forget all about the disagreements during the pregnancy, and in ten years will assume his name was always going to be Paul. If you try to remind them what a sacrifice you made, they may roll their eyes about the “big fuss” you keep making about it.

Cons: He will miss out on hearing that wonderful name story. When he asks, “Why did you name me Xavier?” you will say, “We did have another name picked out, but ended up going with something your grandma liked. The name we chose was meant to inspire you to always be persistent; ironically, we didn’t persist with the idea”.

3: Pick another name that is similar to Daku, but causes less family friction

You did say that if your son had been a girl, he would have been named Iluka, an Aboriginal word and place name said to mean “by the sea”.

You may not have realised this, but in Australia Iluka is generally accepted as a male name. It’s usually listed as a boy’s name in baby name books (although giving it to a girl would be fine). Because it sounds like the popular boy’s name Luca, it’s often taken as a native elaboration of that name, and is given the nicknames Luke or Lukey.

Iluka has a similar sound, origin and meaning to Daku, but it might be something your family could accept more readily, as it sounds like popular names Luca, Lucas and Luke, and has the same nicknames as them.

If you were worried about using a name you were reserving for a future sister, there are many, many pretty sea-oriented names for girls from Aboriginal languages.

If you were feeling very bold, you could give either a son or a daughter the name Bondi, which means “the sound of water breaking over rocks”. It’s one I saw given to a baby girl in the Bonds Baby Search, but seems unisex to me, and rare enough to be up for grabs by either gender.

The word used in the Sydney area for beach sand was marrang, and I’m afraid that’s all the beach-related Aboriginal words which sound like masculine names I can think of. I suggest that you buy a copy of Macquarie Aboriginal Words, which would make a useful reference tool.

I can’t make the choice for you, that is your privilege. I hope you at least feel a bit less stressed seeing your choices laid out in print with some possible outcomes attached.

Once your little boy arrives and is safely settled in, please please please let us know what you chose, and how it’s gone down with everyone on a real baby!

(Image of Bondi Beach from Beach Wiki)

Cherry-Rose and Uneke-Hope: Double Names for Girls from the Bonds Baby Search

02 Monday Apr 2012

Posted by in Baby Contests

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I would have loved to have listed all the girls’ double-names, but they went for pages – the Something-Roses alone ran into the dozens. So I have limited myself to those which made the most impact on me.

Aiko-Jayne

Aleah-Persia

Alisha-Savannah

Annabelle-Ang

Asher-Marcelle

Bella-Ching

Bryndee-Bella (there is a mountain range called the Brindabellas)

Caprice-Elouise

Carlay-Diaz

Cereniti-Lee

Cherish-Bonnique’

Cherry-Rose (pictured is the rose called the cherry rose)

Daisha-Lee

Denyella-Sophia

Destenee-Rose

Elexis-A’vril

Ellie-Peach

Esthershoel

Imarni-Rose

Indigo-Saige

Ivory-Rose

Jaylah-Mae

Jazzmine-Tira

Jypzee-Lee

Kailyn-Stevie

Kimyah-Lee

Krisjanis

Kyarnah-Jane

Lahnee-Mia

Latalia-Star

Lily-Jagga

Maddison-Torika

Mayella

Memphis-Bella

Montana-Armour

Myami-Jade

Narla-May

Nevaeh-Mai

Odessa-Brigit

Parkah-Grace

Pipi-Grace

Rangimarie

Rita-Adele

Ruby-Lou

Sarita-Hazel

Scarlett-Rose

Shiah-Blue

Schuyler-Rae

Sienna-Jade-Lee (a triple name!)

Tilly-Rose

Tippi-Lee

Uneke-Hope

Violet-Amaya

Zaphire-Lee

Thank you to Sophia for suggesting some of these names

Boys Names from the Top 100 of the 1900s

01 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by in Name Themes and Lists

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This follows on from Girls Names from the Top 100 of the 1900s. Once again, I’ve tried to get a balance between those names coming back into fashion, and those which haven’t charted for a while; once again, it is based on data from New South Wales. If you are attracted to names like these for boys, you should check out Abby’s two parter at Appellation Mountain – Fetching Names: The Nevilles, as many of her suggestions are very much in tune with this style.

Albert

This is derived from the Germanic name Adalbert, meaning “noble and bright”, which was common amongst German royalty. It was introduced to England by the Normans, where it readily overtook the Old English form, Æðelbeorht. A rare name by the 17th century, it came back in the 19th, as Prince Albert was the name of Queen Victoria’s dearly loved husband, born in Germany. Famous Australians with this name include Albert Matthews, the last Gallipoli veteran to die, in 1997, and popular long-time entertainer, Bert Newton. Albert is a classic name which has never been out of use; it was #12 in the 1900s, and didn’t leave the Top 100 until the 1950s. It’s remained relatively stable for several decades, and is currently in the low 300s. Albert is one of those names which sound slightly “grandpa” while remaining steadily in use. It’s a good reliable choice, and Alby, Bertie and Bert all make cute nicknames.

Aubrey

The Norman-French form of Germanic Alberich, meaning “elf power” or “elf ruler”, which replaced the Old English equivalent, Ælfrīc. The name was used for both sexes during the Middle Ages, especially amongst the aristocracy, but gradually fell out of use. It was revived in the 19th century, possibly influenced by the surname. There have been a few famous men in Australia named Aubrey, including motorcycle racer Aubrey Lawson, and Australian rules footballer, Aubrey Mackenzie. Aubrey was #59 in the 1900s, and left the Top 100 in the 1930s. It hasn’t charted since the 1950s. Aubrey may seem old-fashioned and effete to some people; others may think it sounds feminine, due to the popularity of similar-sounding girls’ name, Audrey. However, this unisex name is certainly in use as a boys’ name, and I have actually seen it on more boys than girls, with parents of girls often preferring specifically feminine spellings such as Aubree or Aubrie. I think it sounds handsome and dashing, and Jack Aubrey from Master and Commander (played by Russell Crowe in the film) even helps give it a nautical air. The usual nickname is Aub or Auby.

Claude

The French form of the Roman family name Claudius. The Claudii interpreted their name as from the Latin claudus, meaning “lame, crippled”, but according to legend, the first of their house was not Roman, but Sabine, and his family name was Clausus or Closus. When he joined the Romans, his name was Latinised. The Claudii were very proud of their Sabine heritage, very powerful, and had a reputation for arrogance and haughtiness. The name Claude became common in France during the Middle Ages due to the 7th century Saint Claude of Besancon, a monk to whom many miracles are ascribed. The name was brought to Britain by the aristocratic Hamilton family of Scotland in the specifically male form Claud; being Scottish they naturally had ties to France. Australian Claude Choules was the last surviving male World War I veteran in the world until his passing last year. Claude was #49 in the 1900s, left the Top 100 in the 1930s, and hasn’t charted since the 1970s. The name still packs a patrician punch, and namesakes such as painter Claude Monet and composer Claude Debussy make it seem quite artistic as well.

Frank

Used as a short form of Francis or Franklin, but is a name in its own right, referring to the Germanic tribe of the Franks. They conquered most of Gaul, which was later named France in their honour. A powerful tribe, they were the ultimate founders of what would later become the Holy Roman Empire, controlling much of Europe. The meaning of their name is disputed; it may mean “javelin” after their weapon of choice (although the weapon might have been named after them, not the other way around). Another theory is that it meant “bold, fierce”; the Romans sometimes addressed or referred to them as “the fierce people”. The English word frank, meaning “free, honest” is named after the Franks, and is not the source of the name. The most well-known Australian called Frank is probably charming comedian Frank Woodley. Frank’s a classic that has never been off the charts; #27 in the 1900s, it didn’t leave the Top 100 until the 1970s. It’s currently having a growth spurt in the low 400s. Brisk, sensible Frank is a worthy choice for someone wanting an old-style replacement for popular Jack. The usual pet form is Franky.

Harold

Derived from the Old English name Hereweald, meaning “army leader”; the Old Norse form Haraldr was also common amongst Scandinavian settlers in England. It was popular amongst the royal houses of Norway and Denmark, and the two kings of England named Harold were of mixed Scandinavian and Anglo-Saxon ancestry. It was Harold II who was defeated and killed at the Battle of Hastings, leading to the Norman Conquest. Not surprisingly, the name died out almost immediately, but was revived by the Victorians. The most famous Australian with this name is former Prime Minister Harold Holt, who disappeared in 1967 at the beach, and is presumed drowned, although many conspiracy theories have existed. Oddly enough, there is a swimming centre named after him. Harold was #13 in the 1900s, peaked in the 1910s, left the Top 100 in the 1940s, and remained in (rare) use until the early 2000s, with a dampener put on it by Mr Holt’s watery demise. Until recently, I would have said Harold made a great way to get the popular nickname Harry – unfortunately, Harry is rapidly falling. It’s got some challenges, but I do like this noble and besieged name.

Reginald

From the Germanic name Raginald, meaning something like “well-advised ruler”. The Normans brought it to Britain in the forms Reinald and Reinold; there were already Old English and Norse forms in use there. Reginald is the Latinised form of all these variants, and is another of those names from the Middle Ages which made a comeback in the Victorian era. There are many well known Australian Reginalds, including popular actor Reg Livermore, and Sir Reginald Ansett, the founder of Ansett Airlines. Reginald was #20 in the 1900s, and left the Top 100 in the 1960s. It hasn’t charted since the 1980s. Reginald may seem very fusty and pompous – then again, that’s exactly what people would have said about Archibald a few years ago, and now it’s quite fashionable as a way to the nickname Archie. I don’t really see what makes Reggie any different from Archie, Alfie or Freddie, which makes Reginald a genuine contender.

Rupert

A German form of Robert, this was introduced to Britain in the 17th century by Prince Rupert of the Rhine, a nephew of King Charles II of England. When still young, he was appointed commander of the Royalist cavalry during the English Civil War; after the Restoration he returned and became a senior naval commander. Prince Rupert was a man of fashion who also was one of the founders of the Royal Society and a patron of the arts – he made the name seem distinctly aristocratic, and perhaps slightly flamboyant. Famous Australians with the name include artist Rupert Bunny and media mogul Sir Rupert Murdoch. Rupert was #97 in the 1900s, and left the Top 100 the following decade; it left the rankings in the 1940s. Very recently, it has entered the charts again, and is currently climbing in the 400s. Rupert seems to be making a comeback – perhaps Rupert Grint from the Harry Potter movies has given it a more likeable, down-to-earth image. It’s certainly handsome, and Ru would make a cute nickname.

Stanley

An English surname meaning “stony meadow”; it comes from the place name Stoneley in Staffordshire. It has quite an aristocratic heritage, for the Stanleys were Earls and Barons, prominent in the Conservative Party, and at times, one of the richest landowning families in Britain. Members of the Stanley family have held high political office, including Prime Minister, been connected to royalty, and generally a force through the pages of British history. Sir Lyulph Stanley was part of this august clan; he was Governor of Victoria and held several other important posts in Australia. Great men called Stanley from our nation include tennis champion Stanley Doust, and legendary cartoonist Stanley Cross; the Stanley Award for cartoonists is named in his honour. A classic which has never left the charts, Stanley was #22 in the 1900s and left the Top 100 in the 1950s. It has remained stable since the 1960s. It’s an oldie but goodie, made to seem quite cool since Dido gave her son this name last year, named after the song Stan, by American rapper Eminen. It seems eminently usable, and sturdy nickname Stan is right on trend.

Vincent

This is from the Roman name Vincentius, derived from the Latin for “to conquer”. Its meaning made it popular amongst early Christians, who no doubt wished to indicate that they were ready to conquer sin, and there are several martyrs of the church with this name. A later saint with this name is the 16th century French priest famous for his works of charity, St Vincent de Paul. Vincent was used in Britain in the Middle Ages, but didn’t become common until the 19th century. Vince Jones is an Australian jazz artist, and Vince Melouney was one of the founding members of Billy Thorpe & The Aztecs, so it’s a very musical name. Handsome and romantic, Vincent is a classic which has never left the charts or been out of the Top 200. It was #47 in the 1900s, and left the Top 100 in the 1950s; the lowest it’s ever been is #179 in the 1970s. It’s usage has been erratic, but generally improving since then, and it’s currently in the mid 100s. Prince Vincent of Denmark, son of Princess Mary, may help it along further. Vin, Vince and Vinnie are all used as nicknames.

William

From the Germanic name Willahelm, meaning something like “willing helmet”, or “strong-minded protection”. William of Gellone was a cousin of Charlemagne, and an 8th century Norman count who defeated an army of Moors and forced them to retreat to Spain; his deeds are immortalised in the epic poem, Chanson de Guillaume (Song of William). In case this didn’t make him famous enough, he founded a monastery, gave it a piece of the True Cross, and became a monk, being declared a saint after his death. This made William a favourite name amongst the Normans, and when a Duke of Normandy called William invaded England in 1066 and was crowned king, it became the most commonly-used name in his kingdom. There have been four kings of England/Britain called William, and if Prince William attains the throne, he will be William V. Australia has had two Prime Ministers named William – Hughes and McMahon. Solid classic William has never left the Top 50; it was the #1 name of the 1900s and is #1 today. This never out fashion name is very versatile, because although William is so dignified, its nicknames Will, Bill and Billy are simple and unpretentious.

(The picture is of a prospector on the gold fields in 1904; image held by Museum Victoria).

Inspiration from the Atlas – Places as Names from the Bonds Baby Search

27 Tuesday Mar 2012

Posted by in Baby Contests

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GIRLS

Adelaide

Alaska

Arizona

Arkaydia (based on Arcadia, a region of classical Greece)

Assisi (town in Italy)

Atlanta

Australia

Bethany (town in Palestine)

Bondi (suburb of Sydney)

Brixton (area of London)

Bronte (suburb of Sydney)

Calais (town in France)

Capri

Cheyenne (city in Wyoming, USA)

Chinah (based on China)

Dakota

Havana (capital of Cuba)

India

Jamaica

Java (the main island of Indonesia)

Jersey (island in the English Channel)

Jindy (affectionate name for Jindabyne in New South Wales)

Khe-Sanh (a city and Vietnam War battleground; also a song by Cold Chisel)

Kilarney (based on Killarney, a town in Ireland)

Kokoda (town in Papua New Guinea, site of a World War II campaign)

London

Mali (country in west Africa)

Miami

Montana

Norway

Odessa (city in the Ukraine)

Orealla (town in Guyana)

Persia (former name of Iran)

Petra (historic city in Jordan)

Roma (Italian name for Rome)

Saba (island in the Caribbean)

Sahara (desert in north Africa)

Sanya (city in southern China)

Sena (place name in Slovakia, Spain, Iran, Thailand, Mozambique, Italy and Yemen)

Sierra (common place name, often specifically referring to Sierra Nevada in the USA)

Sydney

Valencia (city in Spain)

Venezia (Italian name for Venice)

Vienna

 

BOYS

Aspen (ski town in Colorado, USA)

Aston (area of London)

Austin (city in Texas)

Boston

Brooklyn (common place name including an area of New York City and suburbs of Sydney and Melbourne )

Cairo

Camden (place names in London, Sydney, and New Jersey, USA)

Dakhar (place names in Yemen, Senegal and Azerbaijan)

Dallas

Denver

Dresden (city in Germany)

Harlem (area of New York City)

Jericho (ancient city in Palestine)

Kaimana (town in West Papua, Indonesia)

Kingston (place names in Australia, New Zealand, UK, Canada, USA and Jamaica)

Kobe (city in Japan)

Maitland (place names in Australia, Canada, USA and South Africa)

Memphis (ancient city in Egypt, and city in Tenneessee, USA)

Milan

Monte (place names in France, Portugal, Switzerland, USA and Monaco)

Paris

Rhodes (place names in Australia, Greece, France, UK, USA and South Africa)

Rio (affectionate name for Rio de Janeiro, city in Brazil)

Rome

Sestri (town in Italy)

Somerset (county of England)

Tasman (sea between Australia and New Zealand)

Vegas (affectionate name for Las Vegas, city in Nevada, USA)

York (city in England)

Girls Names From the Top 100 of the 1900s

25 Sunday Mar 2012

Posted by in Name Themes and Lists

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There have been many Googled requests for names from the 1900s, so this is my selection of ten girls names that were Top 100 in the 1900s which I think are usable today. I’ve tried to get a balance between names which are currently rising in popularity, and those which haven’t charted for many decades. All the data comes from New South Wales – the only state which has made public its data kept since Federation.

Amelia

A variant of Amalia, the Latinised form of Germanic Amala, a pet form of any name beginning with Amal-, and meaning “work”. This was one of the many names introduced to Britain by the Hanoverians; part of its easy acceptance was that it was considered a variant of the unrelated Emilia, and indeed Princess Amelia of Hanover was called Emily in everyday life. In the 1900s, Amelia was #95, and it had left the Top 100 by the following decade. It has been on the rankings almost continuously, dropping out in the 1940s and ’50s. Rejoining in the the 1960s, it grew steadily in popularity, until it was in the Top 100 by the 1990s. It’s currently stable at #10. Famous Australians named Amelia include Amelia Best, who was one of the first women elected to the Tasmanian House of Assembly, and opera singer Amelia Farrugia. Amelia was under-appreciated for many years, but is now extremely popular, with a host of nicknames such as Amy, Melia, Millie, Mia and Lia. Pretty and unpretentious, it has a ready-to-wear quality that makes it a handy choice.

Bessie

A short form of the name Elizabeth, in use since the 16th century. The name Bessie was #78 in the 1900s, and grew in popularity during the 1910s. It took a nosedive in the 1920s, left the Top 100, and hasn’t been in the rankings since the 1940s. Famous Australians named Bessie include portrait painter Bessie Davidson, who was celebrated in France in the pre-war era, and Bessie Guthrie, a designer of the 1920s who was an ardent feminist and early proponent of solar energy and ecological balance. She founded the Viking publishing house, and in later life was a crusader for the rights of abused children, before finally, in old age, being able to join a movement of feminist political protest she had waited all her life for. Bessie is such a sweet yet spunky name for a girl, and one I saw recently mentioned as having been given to a baby in 2011. I think it’s one which is ready to shed its “old lady” image and be used once more.

Edith

Based on the Old English name Eadgyð, meaning “rich war”, this was popular amongst Anglo-Saxon royalty; Saint Edith was the illegitimate daughter of King Edgar the Peaceful, and Edith of Wessex was the wife of King Edward the Confessor. Unlike many Anglo-Saxon names, it remained in use after the Norman Conquest, and didn’t fall out of favour until the 16th century. It was revived in the 19th century by the Victorians. The most famous Australian with this name was Edith Cowan, the social campaigner and first woman elected to parliament; she was part of the group which helped give women the vote in 1899 (her picture is now on the $50 note). The name Edith was #16 in the 1900s, and remained Top 100 until the 1940s, leaving the rankings in the 1970s. Very recently, it has had a revival, and is now increasing in popularity in the 500s. Strong, patriotic, and still aristocratic-sounding, it’s fast becoming a fashionable favourite. The short form Edie seems to be even more popular.

Ida

This name was introduced to England by the Normans; it may come from the Old Norse word for “work”, or be related to the Norse goddess of youth, Iðunn. Folklorist Jakob Grimm theorised that her name may come from idis, a divine female being in Germanic mythology, meaning “respected woman”. Ida died out in the Middle Ages, but was revived in the 19th century. This may have been partly inspired by Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem on female education, The Princess, where the heroine is named Ida. Gilbert and Sullivan parodied the poem in their operetta, Princess Ida. Tennyson probably took the name from Mount Ida; there is one in Crete and one near ancient Troy, and both were sacred to the Mother Goddess Rhea or Cybele. According to K.M. Sheard, the name is from the Greek for “woodland”. Ida was #42 in the 1900s and fell rapidly, leaving the Top 100 in the 1920s. It hasn’t been on the charts since the 1950s. Ida Standley was a pioneering schoolteacher in Central Australia. Ida is similar to popular names such as Ivy, Eva and Ava; it can also be used as a form of the Irish name Ita.

Leila

This variant of the Arabic name Layla was introduced to English-speakers by Lord Byron, who used it in his poems The Giaour and Don Juan. In Don Juan, Leila is a little Turkish girl rescued and adopted by the hero; in The Giaour, Leila is a member of a Turkish harem who falls in love with a non-Muslim, and is punished for adultery by being sent to a watery grave (vampires also get a mention). As such, it seems exotic, romantic, Gothic, and literary. Leila was barely Top 100 in the 1900s at #99, but has remained in continuous use, although very rare in the 1950s and ’60s. It’s never managed to join the Top 100 since, but has been climbing sharply since the 1990s, and is currently only just outside it in the very low 100s. Famous Leilas include Leila Hayes, who was in soap opera Sons and Daughters, and Leila Mackinnon, Channel 9 journalist. Leila fits perfectly with current related favourites Layla and Lila, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was back in the Top 100 soon. Pronunciations vary, and as far as I’m aware, LAY-luh, LY-la and LEE-la are all considered correct.

Louisa

A Latinate feminine form of Louis, this was another name introduced to Britain in the 18th century by the Hanoverian royal family. The most famous woman named Louisa from Australian history is undoubtedly Louisa Lawson, the mother of national poet, Henry Lawson. A poet and publisher in her own right, Louisa was also a leading feminist who was called The Mother of Suffrage in New South Wales, and helped bring women in her state the vote. It is generally believed that she is the prototype for all the kind, capable, and hard-working country women who appear in Henry Lawson’s stories. Louisa manages to be a classic, remaining constantly on the charts, while being underused, for it has not been Top 100 since the 1900s, when it was #79. It’s currently around the #500 mark. You really can’t go wrong with Louisa – it’s never been in vogue, yet never been out of style either, so it doesn’t sound old-fashioned. It’s pretty and sensible, and honours one of Australia’s heroines. Nicknames can range from brisk Lou, to cutesy Lulu, and anything in between.

Maud

This is another form of Matilda. The Old Germanic Mahtild became Maheud in Old French, and Anglicised as Maud. Matilda was thus the Latin and written form of the name, while Maud was the way the name was said aloud. For example, Matilda of England, the first female ruler of the English kingdom (her reign was brief), was known as Maud in everyday life. Although the name may remind you of the word maudlin, that is actually from the name Madeline (its original pronunciation). Maud became rare at the end of the Middle Ages, but was another old name which Alfred, Lord Tennyson helped revive, due to his tragic and enigmatic love poem, Maud. Maud McCarthy was a nurse who served with distinction during the Boer War and World War I, receiving several medals. Maud was #94 in the 1900s, and slipped off the Top 100 the following decade. It hasn’t charted since the 1930s. It’s a genuine antique, and if you are determined on Maddie as a pet name, Maud would make a far more distinguished “proper name” than Madison.

Myrtle

Myrtles are graceful, fragrant flowering evergreen bushes, which in ancient times were sacred to Aphrodite or Venus, the goddess of love. Perhaps because of this, they are traditionally included in wedding bouquets; they are always used at weddings amongst the British royal family, a custom began by Queen Victoria. Myrtle has been used as a name since the 19th century, when other flower and plant names became the fashion. A famous person with this name is Myrtle White, who wrote books describing her life on a remote outback station. Myrtle was #47 in the 1900s, and had left the Top 100 by the 1930s. It hasn’t charted since the 1950s. I added Myrtle to the list, not only because we have myrtle species native to Australia, but because Baz Luhrman’s remake of The Great Gatsby will be released soon. There is a character named Myrtle in it, and this may give the name a new image than that of Moaning Myrtle from the Harry Potter books and films.

Pearl

Pearls are produced by molluscs such as oysters and mussels; they are essentially calcium carbonate or limestone in crystalline form. Ones occurring naturally in the wild are very rare, so that they are considered extremely valuable gemstones. Pearl became used as a name in the 19th century, when other gemstone names became fashionable. It probably also had religious connotations, because pearls are mentioned in the Bible, and Jesus compares the Kingdom of Heaven to “a pearl of great price”. Australia still has a significant pearling industry in Broome, Western Australia. A famous Australian with this name is Pearl Gibbs, an Aboriginal leader and activist who focused on women’s and children’s rights. Pearl was #87 in the 1900s, and left the Top 100 the following decade. It did not chart in the 1960s and ’70s, but staged a comeback in the 1980s, and has been climbing precipitously in recent years. It’s currently in the mid 200s, and this name from the sea still has plenty of lustre. It’s similar to the more popular Ruby, but seems more delicate and lady-like.

Sylvia

A variant of the Latin Silvia, meaning “of the woods”. The mother of the legendary Romulus and Remus was called Rhea Silvia (Rhea of the woods), because it was supposedly in the woods that she was seduced by the god Mars. Saint Silvia was the mother of Pope Gregory the Great, famous for her great piety; according to her portrait made during her lifetime, she was beautiful with large blue eyes. A common name in Italy, Silvia was introduced to England by Shakespeare, in his play The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Famous Australians with this name include Sylvia Harper, a tennis champion of the 1920s, and Sylvia Breamer, who was a Hollywood actress from the silent film era. Sylvia is a classic which has never left the charts. It was #58 in the 1900s, and didn’t leave the Top 100 until the 1950s. It hit its lowest point in the early 2000s, and is currently gently rising in the 500s. It’s lovely seeing this pretty name gaining in use; it almost seems like a nature name, because of its woodsy meaning and silvery bell-like sound.

(Photo used is of a bride in 1906; image is held by Culture Victoria)

Famous Names: Sebastian and Jenson

21 Wednesday Mar 2012

Posted by in Famous Names

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The Australian Grand Prix was held in Melbourne on the weekend, and before the event there was plenty of buzz in the media around German Sebastian Vettel, and British Jenson Button. These glamorous visitors from Europe always get a lot of attention, for both are handsome and charming; Vettel amusing and slightly mysterious, Button affable and quietly confident. In the end, Button opened the F1 season with a victory, winning comfortably against Vettel with a 2.2 second margin. It is his third Australian Grand Prix victory. (Picture has Vettel on the left in black).

I thought we’d take a look at the names of both these Formula One champions, because Sebastian and Jenson are Googled often to reach my blog, and so far I haven’t added any requested boys names to the Featured Names list, while I’ve been quite conscientious about adding the girls.

Sebastian is from the Latin name Sebastianus, which means “from Sebaste”. There were several places called Sebaste, because it is the Greek form of Augusta, named in honour of the Emperor Augustus. His adopted name meant “great, majestic, venerable”. There are towns in modern-day Turkey and Palestine with this name (or a version of it), still with ancient Roman ruins which can be visited.

The name became well known because of Saint Sebastian, a 3rd century Roman soldier originally from southern France. Skilled at converting people, according to legend he was shot through with arrows, yet did not die, so had to be martyred twice. He became popular in the Middle Ages because he was said to protect people from the plague, and also began to be depicted as a beautiful, semi-nude young man. (In early pictures, he looks like an ordinary bearded fully-clothed saint).

The name was popular amongst Continental royalty and nobility, and still retains a slightly upper-class image. Sebastian is Viola’s twin brother in Shakespeare’s gender-switching romantic comedy, Twelfth Night. Lord Sebastian Flyte is one of the main characters in Evelyn Waugh’s novel, Brideshead Revisited; beautiful and rather fey, the TV series and film makes it clear Sebastian is homosexual, although this is left ambiguous in the novel. Indeed, Saint Sebastian himself is considered a gay icon (for pretty flimsy reasons), and the name was a code for homosexuality; Oscar Wilde’s pseudonym was Sebastian Melmoth. So far, so androgynous.

However, the name got a watery overhaul when the name Sebastian was given to a Jamaican lobster in the Disney film, The Little Mermaid. Sebastian is a court composer, and a good friend and adviser to Ariel, the mermaid of the title. A Rastafarian who can lay down a reggae beat, he has given the name a new level of cool. The choice of his name seems like a deliberate reference to another famous composer: Johann Sebastian Bach. Incidentally, Sebastian is the lobster’s surname – his first name is Horatio (maybe after the American composer, Horatio Parker).

Sebastian first entered the charts in the 1960s and began steadily climbing, to become Top 100 by the 2000s. At #38 it still seems to be gaining in popularity – an elegant name that belongs to many people’s favourite Disney character.

Jenson is a lot more straightforward. It’s a surname which is basically a form of Johnson, being based on the name Jens, a short form of Johannes. According to Lou at Mer de Noms (rather a Jenson Button fan), the name Jenson has edged itself into the UK Top 100, and its growing popularity can be attributed almost solely to Mr Button himself. As to how he got his name, he was named after a family friend, Erling Jensen (father of F1 driver Steven Jensen). The spelling was altered so that it didn’t reference Jensen Motors, who made British sports cars until the 1970s.

It’s an attractive name, and one I think we’d be using in spades if Jenson Button was Australian. As it is, it’s one many parents are at least putting on their lists, although my personal feeling is that Jensen is slightly more popular, thanks to handsome American actor Jensen Ackles, from Supernatural. As I’ve said before, with female Jennifer become less popular, it gives male names starting with Jen- more of a chance.

When I try to decide which name I like best, Sebastian or Jenson, I find myself in private debate. If I take the side of Sebastian, it seems more sophisticated than Jenson, complex and multi-syllabled, romantic and princely. On the other hand, if I take the side of Jenson, it seems more laddish and chipper, down-to-earth and unpretentious, with oodles of cheeky British charm.

So I am content to say these are both very nice names, and I won’t force them to compete against each other in some Baby Name Grand Prix. When it comes to nicknames for them, I think of Seb and Bastian, and Jens and Sonny, respectively.

Saturday Sibset: The Family From the Emerald Isle

17 Saturday Mar 2012

Posted by in Sibsets in the News

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It’s Saint Patrick’s Day today, so of course this week’s sibset is from Ireland. The Hoban family moved to Australia in 2005 from the town of Wicklow, south of Dublin.

After selling their family business, Mr and Mrs Hoban wanted to show their four sons the world, so they went to Adelaide as temporary residents, where Mrs Hoban got a job as a nurse. However, life in Adelaide must have been good to them, because they decided to make it their permanent home.

They wanted to become citizens in 2007, but missed the cut-off by three days, after the law changed so that residents had to be living here for four years instead of two. Their fourth anniversary came up in October 2011, but they decided to delay just a bit further so that they could become citizens on Australia Day this year.

Mr Hoban says that leaving behind their friends, family and jobs was a “huge deal”, but now every time they leave Adelaide and come back, he is so happy he could “kiss the ground”. The youngest Hoban children have spent more than half their lives in Australia, and it means more to them than their country of birth.

Australia has a great fondness for Irish names, so we’ll have a look at the Hobans and see whether they have names already familiar here.

Kevin: Kevin is the father of the family, and as we well know, his name is considered a classic here, and still used fairly often. Luckily he didn’t migrate to Germany or one of the many other nations who don’t view Kevin kindly.

Tona: Tona is Kevin’s wife, and her name is usually taken to be a pet form of the name Antonia. However, there is a Scandinavian name Tona, meaning “fresh thunder”. Although Wicklow is said to have been settled by Vikings, the first one is probably more likely. It’s very similar to names such as Toni and Tonia.

Darragh (20): There are two possible sources for this name, pronounced DAH-rah, although in an Australian accent, I suspect it comes out as DARR-uh. One is that it’s a variant of the name Dara, which means “oak tree”. It is the same source as the name of the city of Derry or Londonderry in Northern Ireland. Oak trees were sacred in Celtic mythology, and there was a sixth century Saint MacDara (son of Dara), who was one of those reclusive island-dwelling hermit saints who flourished in Ireland. He has given his name to the tiny islet off the coast of Connemara on which he sequestered himself. Darragh can also be an Anglicised form of the name Dáire, meaning both “fruitful, fertile, rutting” and “tumult, rage, violence”. There are many kings and heroes of Irish legend with this name, and they may all go back ultimately to a god of the Otherworld. Despite its ancient origins, Darragh came into general use in Ireland fairly recently, so most of us wouldn’t have heard of it yet, although it is currently #16 in Ireland. However, it’s a wonderful name, extremely masculine, and one which I think Australians could easily embrace. It sounds comfortingly like that Aussie standard, Darren, and has also been Latinised as Darius.

Ryan (18): This name is very popular in both Ireland and Australia, although more popular in its country of origin, being #6 at present, while it’s #57 in South Australia.

Cian (14): This means “ancient” in Gaelic, and is pronounced KEE-an or KEEN. It’s another name from Irish legend, and is also recorded as the name of a Welsh poet. Cian is #14 in Ireland, and although it isn’t as popular here, it’s fairly well known and in use. There are also several variants and derivatives used, such as Kian, Keene, Keane, Keenan and so on.

Evin (12): This is the Anglicised form of the Gaelic name Éimhín, which may mean “swift”. There is a sixth century Saint Éimhín, who was from Munster, but a monk at an abbey in County Wexford. He is said to have written a biography of Saint Patrick, which makes it a great name for St Patrick’s Day. Evin is rare in both Ireland and Australia, although the name can also be Anglicised to its soundalike, Evan, and this name is #27 in Ireland and #95 in South Australia. Evin also has his dad’s name, minus the K – perhaps deliberate?

So out of six genuine Irish names, one is a classic, one is popular, one is in use, and the other three have a familiar sound to them and seem very usable.

Famous Name: Roald

14 Wednesday Mar 2012

Posted by in Famous Names

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March 7 this year marked the centenary of an important event in history. One hundred years ago on this date, Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen sailed into Hobart, having led the expedition which first reached the geographic South Pole, on December 14 1911.

You would think that such an achievement would be greeted with parades and brass bands as they disembarked, and the men of the expedition would be celebrating with wine, women and song. However, Amundsen and his crew behaved very mysteriously. The men remained on board their ship, the Fram, while Amundsen posed as an ordinary sailor, and booked himself into Hadley’s Hotel, where they gave him a crummy room and treated him like a tramp.

Roald Amundsen sent coded telegrams of his feat to his brother and the King of Norway, but had to maintain his silence. Under the terms of several media deals he had made, he couldn’t go public until the contracted newspapers in London, Paris, Berlin and Oslo had published their exclusive stories.

On March 10 he broke his silence, and the Hobart media learned to their chagrin that the biggest story in the world had been right under their noses, and they’d been pipped at the post by the European papers. The hotel suddenly couldn’t do enough for their guest.

Tasmania has always had a special relationship with Antarctica, being the last port of call before you reach the frozen wastes, and Hobart was a pivotal part of the great age of Antarctic exploration. Today it is a base for Australian and French supply ships, and the Institute of Marine and Antarctic Research is currently under construction on the city’s waterfront.

To celebrate Amundsen’s centennial, last weekend the city of Hobart re-enacted the historic moment that the Norwegian explorer sent that vital telegram, ending with the unveiling of a commemorative plaque at the General Post Office from whence the telegram was first sent. There was also a Huskies Picnic, with husky displays, and other Amundsen-related fun.

Roald is the modern form of the Old Norse name Hróðvaldr or Hróaldr, meaning “famous ruler”. These Viking names seem to turn up in the historical records fairly frequently, and a nobleman named Hróaldr is said to have been one of the first Norse settlers in Iceland. According to Kay at Nook of Names, it is one of the possible origins for the English surname Rowett, and it is also behind the English surname Rolston. Roald is a place name in Norway.

This name is quite familiar to most people because of the author Roald Dahl, who was born in Wales to Norwegian parents, and named after the polar explorer, Roald Amundsen. Although Roald Dahl wrote adult fiction, he is best known and loved for his children’s books, which have become modern classics.

Titles such as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Matilda, The Witches, James and the Giant Peach, and Fantastic Mr Fox have been enjoyed by children as both books and movies. There are very few children who are not delighted by the dark comedy of Mr Dahl’s storytelling; some of them may be heartened to learn that Roald Dahl was only an average student at school, and considered an atrocious writer.

I think this name sounds very strong and even heroic (Roald Dahl himself was a World War II fighter ace). The pronunciation is a slight issue, because the Norwegian way to say it is ROO-all, but the English way is ROE-ald. Either way, there is a danger of it becoming slurred into the word rule or rolled. You get a very Australian nickname, Roo, from the Norwegian pronunciation.

Whether you would like to honour a polar explorer, a popular author, Norwegian heritage, Viking ancestry, or a connection with Antarctic research, Roald seems an excellent and unusual choice.

(The photo is of Amundsen with his crew on board the Fram; he is the one in the middle wearing a bowler hat. The photo is held by the Nasjonalbiblioteket in Oslo).

Curl Up With a Good Book in the Nook of Names

11 Sunday Mar 2012

Posted by in Blog Reviews

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Most of us started our name blogs as a way to store and share our information, or as an extension of our online activities in forums, or even on a whim. Kay started her blog, Nook of Names, to promote the book she was preparing for publication: Llewellyn’s Complete Book of Names: For Pagans, Witches, Wiccans, Druids, Heathens, Mages, Shamans & Independent Thinkers of All Sorts Who Are Curious About Names from Every Place and Every Time.

That’s an impressive title, which embraces a wide spectrum of people who will want to read this book. If you are not a Pagan, Druid or Shaman, I hope at least you fit under the heading of being an Independent Thinker Who is Curious About Names. Slavish Non-Thinkers Who are Incurious About Names should leave now …. and in fact, how ever did you get here in the first place?

Because Kay has both a book and a blog, I am going to attempt to review both of them simultaneously. It sounds an insane plan, but in my defence I did try to do them separately. In the blog review, I kept needing to refer to the book, and in the book review, I needed to keep referring to the blog – the two are so intertwined that I felt compelled to combine them.

Kay started blogging on Midsummer Eve last year; although she says it is her first attempt, it is a beautiful and professional-level name blog. The Misty theme is a perfect match, the colours are soft and natural, and the background design from the book’s cover suitably mysterious. I must pay tribute to the illustrations for the blog; they are sumptuous and lovingly chosen works of art.

Nook of Names was set up to whet our appetites for The Complete Book of Names, with great success. The first post introduced The Complete Book of Names, the second explained why it wasn’t just for Pagans, and then began the process of providing some sneak peeks into the book’s contents based on names of people who connected to her on Facebook. For example, the entry on Estelle, also covers Stella and Esther, and hints that looking up the entries for Ishtar, Hester, Easter and Vanessa will prove rewarding.

Kay addresses the fact that a Complete Book of Names cannot ever literally contain every single name ever given on earth, and Nook of Names is thus her way of covering many names that couldn’t be included in the book. As a result, the blog has a huge number of names, and they are all indexed, from Abel to Zygus.

Llewellyn’s Complete Book of Names was published at the start of this year, and is available at Amazon and Amazon UK, as well as other good bookstores. UK-based readers can buy a signed copy of the book directly from Kay through Paypal. Australians can buy it from Angus and Robertson, which is rather pricey; if you don’t mind a longer waiting period, The Book Depository has free postage.

I have had my copy since the end of January, and for over a month it has been my constant bedtime companion. It’s a hefty tome – nearly 800 pages, and weighing almost 2 kg. It contains thousands of names, and a wealth of information for each one.

Massive reference books often come in small print, presumably in the belief you will only be looking something up for a few minutes, but Llewellyn have been very generous, and The Complete Book of Names is easy and pleasurable to read. The print is large and black on very white paper, and although there are many codes used to save repeating the same phrases, they are so commonsense that you can probably figure most of them out without consulting the key every time.

(I must confess to not actually using this key, as it is easy enough to decipher that ESW means English-speaking world, and Hist means historical – although having a quick glance at it now, I see it might be possible to confuse yourself, with Lat meaning Latvian and not Latin).

Each entry contains much more information than the usual “name book”, providing not just origin and meaning, but a mini-history of the name, with links to related names which may provide further elucidation. You may wonder what makes the book particularly Pagan; although there are plenty of “ordinary” names, like Henry and Katherine, and “modern” names like Sienna and Chase, the CBM includes many names from world mythologies, and also more nature names than are usual in a name book.

Pagans of all sorts are united by their love and respect for Nature, and so it is not surprising to see unusual name suggestions from the natural world, such as Paprika, Chaffinch, and Hypericon. Names of plants and gemstones often have magical associations, and it is fascinating to read that Parsley was dedicated to Persephone and used in funeral rites, or that Bears were sacred to Artemis, so that young initiates to her cult were called little she-bears. This gives a much deeper understanding of the “meanings” of such natural names.

Kay’s qualifications for writing the book are impressive. According to the back of the book, she is a scholar of history, Assyriology, Latin and Greek; a graduate of the University of Cambridge; and knows a number of modern and ancient languages. She also belongs to the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids, and is a member of the British Pagan Federation. In other words, she is a pagan name expert.

Kay has her own theories on names, and that’s one of the things I most appreciated about her book. There’s nothing more annoying than looking up a name and being given the unhelpful entry: “meaning unknown”. I always feel like saying, “Surely you must have some idea?” Kay does have some idea, often several of them, and she’s happy to share her thoughts as to the most likely derivation of an obscure name. When the meaning is lost beyond all finding, she can still help explain its cultural context, and thus what it “means” on another level.

Despite her interest in languages and etymology, this is not just a “name dictionary” which gives a definition of a name. Although it is certainly a valuable reference work, it is intended to be used in choosing real life names, whether that be a name for yourself, a pen name, a name for a baby, names for literary characters, or even a name for a pet.

Although I’m sure most readers will be eager to dive right in to look up their favourite names, or skim through it for more name ideas, it’s worthwhile to read the excellent introduction. It contains a history of naming in the western world which I think everyone who is interested in names should read, and also has thoughtful advice on choosing a baby name. Even this has a certain Pagan flavour – most name books don’t suggest that you might like to consult an astrologer, or seek guidance from your tarot cards or rune stones!

And yet most of it is sensible advice that anyone would benefit from. Although Kay feels that Pagans are more likely to think deeply about their name choices, I’m sure most people do choose baby names with care, and certainly all of us should think deeply about it, and follow our intuition, even if we don’t necessarily use rune stones to do so. One of Kay’s principles of naming is that we don’t so much select a name for someone as undertake a journey to discover it, which I think is a wonderful way to see it, and also puts you in the right frame of mind and heart to find the perfect name.

This is a book that anyone who cares about names will want to own, and consult again and again. It’s filled not only with fascinating information on each name, but contains a multitude of creative naming ideas, including lists of names grouped together by meaning or theme. It may be written from a Pagan perspective, and no doubt fellow-Pagans will find it suits their needs better than any other name book, but it is a book for almost everyone. In short, I don’t know how any name aficionado or name blogger can live without this book.

Now with the book out, and hopefully walking off the shelves, does this mean that Nook of Names has served its purpose and will be laid to rest? There are no signs of it, because there are so many names out there in the world still waiting for Kay to document them. Besides, I bet she’s already working on a revised edition of The Complete Book of Names!

There’s a lot to discover at the Nook of Names. There are essays on onomastics, such as one on Surnames as First Names, which has generated alphabetical lists of English surnames which could make unusual and interesting personal names. There’s Pagan Name of the Month; these always show the pagan roots or pagan connotations of commonly used names such as Aidan or Ruby, making them pagan-friendly populars. Pick of the Week looks at a less usual name; it’s impossible to pick a favourite, but the one on Coventry stuck in my mind.

A series inspired by the runes gives interesting lists of names, there’s names from the world of fiction, including a two-parter on characters in Dickens (lots of cat names!), and inspiration from travel, such as this essay on the sacred landscape of Somerset. British name bloggers, perhaps because they are surrounded by such richness of history, seem remarkably skilled at finding name inspiration wherever they go.

There’s plenty of Paganesque entries, such as ones of names from Nature, names for Pagan festivals such as Imbolc, and names from the history of the Salem witch trials. Kay seems to enjoy starting a new Category as much as I do; however, like me, she sometimes bites off more than she can chew, and Witch of the Week still seems to be a work in progress. It’s an excellent start though, and the entry on Ceridwen was especially lovely, bringing in plenty of first-hand information from Wales, where Kay lives.

Many of these posts are a chance for her to expand on the entries in Complete Book of Names, so if you are a fan of the book, then Nook of Names is essential reading. On the other hand, if you can’t get enough of the blog, then you need to get yourself a copy of Complete Book of Names at once. Then curl up in a cosy nook, and lose yourself in Kay’s magical world of names.

Q & A WITH KAY

Name: Kay Michelle Sheard

Have you ever wished for a different name?: Frequently! I’ve come to like Kay more, as it has a lot of meaning when you start to dig. But I don’t like Michelle. There’s nothing wrong with it, but it’s never felt “me”.

When did your interest in names begin?: Like a lot of name buffs, I used to collect names as a child – not just first names, but surnames and place-names too. The whole concept of naming and how names began and evolved really fascinated me. It all goes hand in hand with my interest in etymology and social anthropology in general.

How did you first decide to write a book on names?: Writing a book about names was always at the back of my mind, but its birth was sparked by two things in August 2009. I was lamenting the lack of a really comprehensive book of names for Pagans/alternative-minded folk. Meanwhile, one of those Facebook apps offered to tell me what my name meant. I knew already, but did it for fun, and it came out with something so outrageously wrong that that was that!

How long did the book take?: The whole process has eaten up the best part of two years.

How did you find a publisher?: Finding a publisher was very straightforward. I approached Llewellyn in October 2009 with the idea, and was offered a contract in December.

Hardest thing about writing a book: Keeping a balance between work and everyday life. There were times when I ended up having to work on it virtually round the clock, and on more than one occasion I ended up working through the night, snatching an hour or two’s sleep when sheer exhaustion took over.

Your favourite blog entry at Nook of Names: Incan Inspiration – it was great fun to research and write. Plus, my sister-in-law had just got back from a trip to Peru and very kindly let me use some of her amazing photos of llamas.

Your pet naming peeve: Top of mine has to be the school of thought that tries to frighten people into choosing “safe names” with prophecies of doom and disaster, or howls of derision over the choice of something more unusual. The former, I feel, perpetuates the tendency to put the blame on victims for things like bullying, rather than on the perpetrators. And the latter demonstrates ignorance.

Your favourite names: My favourite names are those of Greek and Latin origin, especially those from Greek and Roman mythology. A close second are Welsh names, and names from Welsh mythology, born out of my Welsh heritage and love of all things Celtic.

Your least favourite names: Michelle – for reasons already stated (poor Michelle!). Other than that, I can’t say there’s anything I really despise, except, perhaps those that make a really strong statement about the parents’ world-view, like Neo-Nazis calling their son Adolf Hitler, and truly outrageous stuff like Talula Does The Hula From Hawaii.

Names you love, but can’t use for some reason: Ptolemy. Its meaning – “war” – I can’t embrace, no matter how much I try to persuade myself that the word has a broader meaning than just physical fighting, and that Ptolemy as a name has accrued many positive associations.

Your child’s name: I deliberately keep Small Child’s name private, as it belongs to her, not me. But I will reveal what she would have been called had she been a boy: Octavian Theodore Rhufon.

Did you and your husband/partner have any issues agreeing on names?: Not a great deal; we share similar tastes and attitudes. We came to an agreement that if Small Child was a girl, he’d get to choose her first name, and if it was a boy, I would. I was happy with that, as we both approved each other’s choices, and I got to choose all middle names regardless.

Names you are considering for future children: We probably won’t have any more, but if we did, there really are too many for me to say. However, I think it would be a safe bet to assume that his or her first name would probably be Greek or Latin, and they’d have at least one Welsh name too.

The one piece of advice you would give to someone choosing a name for their baby: Listen to your intuition – your heart – and don’t pay too much attention to what others say, be it family (other than your partner, of course), friends, books, articles or online forums. I can’t help feeling there is something in the notion that there’s a name that’s exactly right for each of us – unfortunately, not all of us get that name because our parents bowed to those external pressures, and that’s a shame.


Boys Names of Australian Aboriginal Origin

26 Sunday Feb 2012

Posted by in Name Themes and Lists

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This follows on from last week’s list, Girls Names of Aboriginal Origin. It was more challenging to find boys’ names, because many, if not most, Aboriginal words end in a vowel, and easily conform to we think of a “feminine sounding” name. They are similar to names in Hebrew, Arabic, and in the Indian languages in that regard, and even now you will find people who insist that Ezra must be a female name, because it ends in -a.

These are not traditional or tribal Aboriginal names for men, but rather words from Aboriginal languages that I thought could be used as names by people from any culture. Some of them coincide with words or names from other languages, as I thought people may be interested to know that a word from their own heritage has a distinct Australian meaning as well.

Dural

Dural is a pleasant semi-rural suburb of Sydney, and its meaning has been in some dispute. It is said that dural was a word from the Dharug language, meaning “gully, valley”, and this information came from a traditional owner of the land in the 19th century. It was also said to mean “burning logs”, from the word dooral dooral, but this belief only dates from the 1940s, and is taken from the Wiradjuri language. As the Wiradjuri people are from central New South Wales, the local meaning is claimed to be the correct one. Translations of this name as “hollow tree” or “burned out tree” in baby name books can be safely discarded as invention. I think Dural seems very usable as a personal name, and I considered it for Sydney Suburbs That Could Be Used as Boy’s Names. It sounds like familiar names such as Darrell, and sturdily similar to the word endure.

Jarli

This word means “barn owl” in the Jiwarli language of northern Western Australia. As in many other societies, several Australian Aboriginal cultures saw owls as symbols of wisdom, mystery, secrets and sacred knowledge; messengers from one world to another, and companions of the medicine men. The owl features in several myths and legends, and is sometimes depicted in Aboriginal art. This name seems familiar to us, because Jarli is also a Scandinavian boy’s name based on the word for “earl”, and I have seen one or two boys with this name. I like the sound and the meaning of this name, and it is similar to another Jiwarli word: jali, meaning “friend”.

Kaiya

This word from a Queensland language refers to a spear with two barbs, and is pronounced KY-uh. It has been used in the Latin name for a species of caddisfly – Chimarra kaiya – who is so called because of its distinctive barb-like projections. In the Kaurna language of South Australia, the similar sounding kaya means “spear”, although in Nyungar it means “hello; yes”. This is always listed as a girl’s name in baby name books, but the name Kai makes this name look masculine to me. I don’t see how the sound of it is any more “girly” than, say, Hezekiah. The meaning does not seem feminine either. I would say it is a unisex name, and suitable for a boy.

Kuparr

This means “red earth, burnt earth” in the Ngiyampaa language of New South Wales. It refers to the ochre used for making body paint for the Coroborees; the sacred ceremonies of Indigenous Australians involving ritual, dance and music. Red ochre is also used in other Aboriginal forms. Kuparr was the basis for the name of the mining town Cobar, and because copper was mined there, it has also been suggested that it may have been the local way of translating the word copper. Most likely the similarity between the words is a coincidence though. The attraction of this name is that it sounds a bit like Cooper. If you like the sound of Cooper but think it seems a bit boring or surnamey, Kuparr might be for you.

Miro

Miro (MEE-roh) is a Nyungar word for a type of spear thrower which propels the aim of the gidgee; a fearsome qaurtz-tipped spear about 8 feet long. Miro exists as a name or word in several other languages. It’s a Slavic name which is short for Miroslav, meaning “glorious peace”. In Japanese, it’s short for Miroku, a Japanese form of Maitreya, the fifth (future) incarnation of the Buddha. In New Zealand, it’s the name for a species of conifer tree. In Korea, it means “maze”. It’s also the surname of Spanish artist, Joan Miró i Ferrà (Joan was a man) – his surname was short for Ramiro, the Spanish form of a Germanic name meaning “famous counsel”. It’s very multicultural, and none of the meanings that I’ve seen are negative. I think it’s attractive. We had a baby boy in a recent birth announcement named Finn Joseph Miro, so it’s considered usable in Australia.

Monti

This is one of the Aboriginal names for the Black-necked Stork, which is found across the tropical north of Australia, and is the only stork species native to Australia. I have not been able to track down which language it is from, except that it’s not from the Northern Territory, where this bird is called a jabiru. It’s therefore either from Queensland or northern New South Wales, as the only other places where this bird exists. It’s listed as one of the Indigenous names by museums, so I feel fairly confident it’s authentic. The stork is mentioned in several Aboriginal legends, one of them an extremely touching love story. The attraction of this name is that it sounds exactly like the fashionable name Monty, but has its own significance.

Tarka

This means “eggshell” in the Kaurna language of South Australia. I thought of it because I have seen the name Tarka used in the birth announcements from the London Telegraph. It has a number of meanings in other contexts. There is a well-loved English children’s book called Tarka the Otter, so famous that it has given its name to a railway line and a bike path in the West Country. It was made into a film in the 1970s. In the book, Tarka’s name was meant to suggest the barking sound that an otter makes. In India, tarka is a word for seasoning added to a meal, and in Quechuan, a tarka is a type of flute played by the Indigenous people of the Andes. Tarka Cordell was a British musician who died in tragic circumstances a few years ago; I’m not sure where his name was taken from, or whether he is the inspiration for British children having Tarka as one of their names. This is the second name with the meaning of “eggshells” I have suggested; the other was Keid. Because eggshells appear so fragile, and yet are surprisingly strong under compression, I find this meaning very evocative.

Tau

Means “evening, dusk, twilight” in the Kaurna language of South Australia, and is said to rhyme with the word cow. In Maori, it can mean a number of different things, including “sweetheart”, “song, chant”, “string”, or “ridge”. In one of the Indigenous languages of Indonesia, it means “man”. In Samoan, it can mean “anchor” or “war”. It’s known to many people in the context of the Tau Cross, a symbol of life which was used by the Egyptians, and became important in a number of different religions and spiritual paths, including Christianity. I have met men named Tau, but I’m not sure which meaning was associated with their names. I think Tau fits in very well with other popular names for boys, such as Ty, Tai and Taj, and would be readily accepted.

Warragul

Warragul, pronounced WOHR-uh-guhl, is a town in the West Gippsland region of rural Victoria, the birthplace of legendary Aboriginal boxer Lionel Rose. Its name is said to come from a local word, warrigal, meaning either “wild” or “wild dog”, referring to the dingo. The dingo is Australia’s largest predator on land, and its ancestor is thought to have been introduced to Australia by seafarers from south east Asia thousands of years ago, when dogs were less domesticated and more closely related to wolves. Dingoes play a major role in Aboriginal myths and legends; in stories they are often guardians of humans who can warn them of the supernatural or evil spirits. There are also myths of dingo-people shapeshifters, or “were-dingoes”, and often the dingo in legends is a rebel or trickster figure. In everyday life, dingoes were tamed and kept in Aboriginal camps as guard dogs. They were treated with great affection, given names, slept with their human companions, and were even breastfed. At least sometimes they were buried alongside humans. I saw someone in a parenting forum say they had already used Warragul as a baby name.

Warrin

Warrin meant “winter, cold and frosty season” in one the language spoken around the Sydney region when Europeans first arrived. However, there are a number of similar words used throughout Indigenous languages. Warran or Warrung was the original name for the place we call Sydney Cove, and by extension, Sydney itself; it is said to mean “the other side [of the harbour]”. In the Brisbane area, Warun was a place name in the suburb now called Redcliffe; it may have meant “neck”. There are historical records of a man from south-west Queensland named Warun, so it was used as a personal name. In the Melbourne area, warun meant “eel” in the local language, a fish prized as a valuable food source; there is a suburb of Geelong named Warun Ponds. I have also seen the word warun translated to mean “diving ducks” in the Northern Territory. Baby name books translate Warun as meaning “sky”, but I don’t know which language they are deriving it from. From this I deduce that the English name Warren is the most “indigenous sounding” of our names, and perhaps it deserves a closer look.

(The photo is of young actor Brandon Walters, who starred in Baz Luhrman’s film, Australia).