Tag Archives: name history

Requested Name: Anzac

25 Wednesday Apr 2012

Posted by in Requested Names

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Today is ANZAC Day, one of the most solemn and significant days on the Australian and New Zealand calendars. Originally a commemoration for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZACs) who fought at Gallipoli during World War I, today it also honours all those who served and died for their country during military operations.

It marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by Australian and New Zealand forces in 1915, as part of World War I. The Gallipoli Campaign took place on a peninsula near the Dardanelles in what is now Turkey, and was an attempt by the British and French to capture Constantinople (now Istanbul), and secure a safe route to Russia. The attempt was a failure for the Allies, and resulted in the loss of many lives.

While great military victories are often commemorated as national days of celebration, Australia and New Zealand instead remember this bitter military failure. Although Australia had been independent for thirteen years, and New Zealand for seven, when World War I broke out, many in both countries still thought of themselves as British (they had been, only a few years previous), and had a great deal of faith in the British Empire.

The miserable failure of the Gallipoli Campaign did much to shake that faith in British superiority. The stories of courage and heroism from the ANZACs bolstered a feeling of national pride, and a national identity which until then had been lacking. It is popularly said that although Australia officially became a nation in 1901, we only psychologically separated ourselves from Britain in 1915.

There is a long tradition of giving children a name to honour military events, and Anzac is another of these. Although the name Anzac is protected by the government to ensure it is not misused, it is permitted to use it on people. It would make a very patriotic name, especially for a child born on or near ANZAC Day.

Through reading the historical records, Anzac seems to have been most often given as a middle name. When used as a first name, it was almost always given to boys. As a middle name, it was much more even, but still more often given to boys than girls.

Although there seems to be have been a spate of baby Anzacs after the Gallipoli Campaign, it is a name still in use today, and I last saw a baby named Anzac in a birth announcement less than two years ago (a boy). For girls, Anne or Annie could be used as a nickname, and Zac seems most likely for a boy.

Some Anzac Name Combinations From the World War I Era

Female

Alma Anzac Myrtle

Annie Anzac

Anzac Cavel Vardon

Clover Anzac

Dardandella Anzac

Maple Anzac

Verdun Anzac Jane

 

Male

Anzac Gallipoli Claude

Anzac Kitchener

Lalbert Anzac

Valentine Anzac

Vivian Anzac Jasper

William Anzac France

Winston Anzac

Thank you to Larkin for suggesting the name Anzac back in early December, and waiting so patiently for ANZAC Day to arrive so that it could be covered!

(Image shows the Beach Cemetery at Anzac Cove, containing the remains of allied troops who died during the Battle of Gallipoli. Most of the graves are from the Australian Imperial Forces, and the first graves were dug here on the day of landing, April 25 1915)

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)

Waltzing With … Billy

08 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by in Waltzing with ...

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This article was first published on April 8 2012, and revised and re-posted on March 9 2016.

Fictional Namesake
The blog entry for Pasco looked at a religious side to Easter, so this one will be about a secular aspect of the holiday.

One of the most popular symbols of the season is the Easter Bunny; this was an old German custom, and originally a hare rather than a rabbit (which is why the word bunny is used, to cover both creatures). Hares and rabbits are famous for being prolific breeders, so they make obvious fertility symbols for a festival which occurs in the northern spring and celebrates new life.

However in Australia, this prolificness of the rabbit has made it an invasive pest and an environmental disaster. Rabbits first arrived on the First Fleet and were bred for food in hutches, but don’t seem to have become a problem in mainland Australia until 1859.

In this fateful year, some bright spark named Thomas Austin thought it would be utterly spiffing to release 24 English rabbits onto his country property in Victoria so that he could continue the rabbit hunting lifestyle he had enjoyed in England. Austin opined the rabbits would do little harm, and might provide a touch of “home”.

Austin released both wild grey rabbits and domestic rabbits; the two varieties intermingled to become an extremely hardy and resilient Super Rabbit. Even then it might not have been such a mess, except that all the landowners living around Austin got in on this new fad, and released stacks of rabbits onto their own farms.

Within a decade, there were so many rabbits that 2 million could be killed each year without making the slightest difference to their numbers. By Federation in 1901, they were already holding a Royal Commission to see how the “rabbit problem” could be brought under control.

Rabbits are thought to be the most significant factor in loss of native species. They kill young trees, compete with native animals for resources, and cause horrific soil erosion which takes centuries to recover. They cost the agricultural sector millions of dollars in damages each year.

During the 1980s and ’90s, the environmental movement in Australia made a stand by using a new Easter symbol – the Easter Bilby. Bilbies (pictured) are cute native marsupials with a long muzzle and long ears, and they are an endangered species. The Foundation for a Rabbit-Free Australia used the Easter Bilby to educate people about the damage that feral rabbits do to our delicate ecology.

Haigh’s Chocolates got on board by stopping making chocolate bunnies, and making the very first chocolate bilbies. Darrell Lea also make chocolate bilbies, with part of the profits going to the Save the Bilby Fund. You can buy cheap chocolate bilbies from supermarkets as well, but it’s probably a toss-up whether any of the money you spend will go towards helping real bilbies.

The campaign has been successful, because thirty years ago there was no such thing as a chocolate bilby, and now they are an established part of Easter. Schools and school holiday programs often use the Easter Bilby for egg hunts and other activities, as an opportunity to teach kids about the environment as they play games and munch chocolate. Buying a bilby instead of a bunny feels patriotic and environmentally responsible.

There have been many picture books about the Easter Bilby, but the first one, and the first mention of the Easter Bilby, was Billy the Aussie Easter Bilby, by Queensland children’s author Rose-Marie Dusting, in 1979. Rose-Marie’s first version of the story was written in 1968, when she was only nine years old. Most likely, Rose-Marie chose the name Billy because it sounds like the word bilby.

Name Information
Billy is a pet form of Bill, which is short for William; it has been used an an independent name since the 18th century. People often ask how Bill became short for William (which doesn’t start with a B), but nobody seems to know for sure. It is presumed to be part of that medieval initial letter swapping which saw Richard become Dick, and Robert become Bob.

Billy is also a vocabulary word which has a particular resonance in Australia – a billy is a cooking pot used to boil water on a campfire. It’s thought that the word billycan comes from the large cans used to transport bully beef (corned beef) on ships sent to Australia or during exploration in the outback.

It’s a word which reminds us of the outback and our history, and even now some older Australians will say they are going to put the billy on for tea, when they just mean the kettle. Billy Tea is a brand of strong tea which has been sold since the late 19th century, and many arcane methods are suggested for making the perfect brew of tea over a campfire. You can read of billies in the poems of Henry Lawson and Banjo Paterson, the most famous reference being the jolly swagman in Waltzing Matilda, who sang as he watched and waited ’til his billy boiled.

A billy lid is not just a lid for a billy, but also affectionate rhyming slang for “kid” (child). There’s also the Puffing Billy steam train network near Melbourne, a major tourist attraction, and billy buttons, a type of native daisy.

One of the most famous Australian men who went by the name was Billy Blue, the first Australian convict to become a celebrity. Described in the records as a “Jamaican Negro”, Billy claimed to be a freed slave with some Native American heritage who had fought with the British during the War of Independence. When convicted, he was living in London, and had stolen sugar to use in his chocolate-making business.

In Australia, he became popular with the government and the public for his whimsical personality and witty banter. When he completed his sentence, he became a ferryman, and was granted 80 acres of land in the North Sydney area – Blues Point and William Street are two of several local landmarks named after him.

Other namesakes include Billy the Native, a bushranger who passed into folklore as “the traveller’s friend”; Billy Lynch, an Aboriginal community leader in the Katoomba area with hundreds of proud descendants; Billy Sing, a Chinese-Australian soldier who served with distinction in the Gallipoli Campaign; Billy Thorpe, rock singer from the 1960s and 70s; Billy Elliot, the jockey who rode Phar Lap to victory seven times; and NRL star Billy Slater.

Billy entered the Australian charts in the 1970s at #427, and began climbing steeply. It hasn’t reached the national Top 100, but is often seen around the bottom of popularity charts in certain states, and would not be far off. William is a very popular name, and it is possible that some of those Williams also go by Billy.

In the US (home of Billy the Kid and fictional sailor Billy Budd), Billy has been almost continually on the charts, and was a Top 100 name from the early 1920s until the end of the 1970s, peaking in the 1930s at #20. After that very impressive run, it has been on the decline and is now #794. It also charted as a girl’s name (a variant of Billie) from the 1920s until the 1940s, peaking in 1930 at #527.

In the UK (home of Billy Idol and fictional schoolboy Billy Bunter), Billy was a Top 100 name in the 1990s; it left the Top 100 in 2009 and is currently #122, and has been occasionally used for girls. Billy is still a popular name in Ireland. In Australia, Billy has never had a long run of popularity as in other English-speaking countries, so feels a bit fresher here.

Billly is an environmentally-friendly Easter creation; a name from history; a name from poetry; a name from the landscape; the name of a host of colourful Australian characters. Billy is a name which says, “I’m coming at you world, ready or not!” He’s a true blue wild colonial boy who is cute as a button, and sweet as a chocolate bilby.

POLL RESULTS
Billy received an approval rating of 78%, making it one of the highest-rated names of 2012. 42% of people thought the name Billy was okay, while 11% hated it.

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).

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.

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.


Famous Name: Kylie

07 Wednesday Mar 2012

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Last weekend was the annual Sydney Mardi Gras Gay and Lesbian Street Parade, which for several years now has been held on the first Saturday in March. The parade is the culmination of a gay and lesbian festival, and combines political protest with a celebration of gay cultures and lifestyles, then ends with one enormous shindig that proves nobody can party like Sydney.

Recently-out Magda Szubanski was in attendance, looking pleased and slightly nervous, and the guest of honour at the post-parade Mardi Gras Party was pop diva Kylie Minogue, who last appeared at Mardi Gras fourteen years ago. Kylie waived her $16 000 appearance fee and performed for free.

Kylie began her career as a child actor, failed to join the Young Talent Time cast, as her sister Dannii did, then shot to fame playing teenage mechanic Charlene Edna Mitchell on soap opera Neighbours. Her wedding to Scott Robinson, played by Jason Donovan, attracted 20 million viewers in the UK. This was enough to take her to Britain to begin her career as a pop singer.

At first she was treated scornfully by the critics, and disdainfully labelled “the singing budgie” for being small and chirpy. However, she has become one of the British pop industry’s great survivors – constantly re-inventing her image to become a sex symbol, and from early on appreciatively embraced by the gay community as one of their icons.

She has overcome breast cancer, and at the age of 43, is regarded as Britain’s most powerful celebrity, and been named one of the 100 Hottest Women of All Time. She currently lives in London’s once fashionable Chelsea.

According to baby name books, the name Kylie means “boomerang” in an Aboriginal language, and if you are prepared to dig a little deeper, we are told that the word kylie comes from the Nyungar language from south-west Western Australia, and there are place names ending with -kylee to indicate that (for example, that a river is shaped like a boomerang).

However, a rival theory is that kylie refers not to a boomerang, but to the hunting stick, which isn’t curved and doesn’t come back, being used to bring down prey. I have certainly seen these hunting sticks being identified as kylies in texts over a century old, so this idea is hardly a new one.

Unfortunately for both these theories, when I consulted a Nyungar dictionary, the word kylie isn’t in it. A boomerang is called a kirli (KEER-lee), and a throwing stick is called a dowak. It would seem that kylie was a non-Indigenous slight corruption of the word kirli, which is very similar to the word for boomerang in the Walpiri language of Central Australia – karli.

I’m not sure how settlers confused dowak for kylie though; perhaps they misunderstood what the Aborigines were telling them, or lacked the cultural context to see that a boomerang and a throwing stick were two different tools.

It’s easier to understand why Australians of British descent latched onto it as a personal name in the 1950s and ’60s. It fit in so well with the trend for similar-sounding names of Irish origin, such as Kerry and Kelly that were also growing in popularity – a trend that is still going strong, as names such as Keeley, Keira, Kirra and Kirrily attest. Kylie just had that familiar “Australian sound”. It also seems to have increased the popularity of the male name Kyle.

The name Kylie first hit the charts in the 1950s, was Top 100 by the 1960s when Kylie Minogue was born, and peaked in the 1970s as the #2 name of that decade. By the 1990s it had left the Top 100, and in the last year or two has left the charts altogether.

The plummeting popularity of the name Kylie in the 1990s must surely owe something to comedienne Mary-Anne Fahey’s iconic character Kylie Mole from The Comedy Company sketch show. This befreckled, hoydenish schoolgirl, stuck in the permanent bad mood of adolescence, not only popularised the word bogan, but her second-best friend Rebecca appeared with her on the show, played by Kylie Minogue. Although she struck a chord with us youngsters, she gave the name Kylie a certain image that parents probably didn’t wish to bestow upon their daughters.

Waltzing With …Toci

04 Sunday Mar 2012

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This blog post was first published on March 4 2012, and edited and republished on February 24 2016

Today is the first Sunday in March, which means it’s Clean Up Australia Day. This environmental effort encourages people to clean up their own communities, and the concept went global after Australia pitched the idea to the United Nations – hence the birth of Clean Up The World, whose clean-up campaign is held on the third weekend in September (the northern hemisphere autumn).

Cleaning up seems suitable for the Lenten season, when we are supposed to be ridding ourselves of bad habits, and pulling back from the excesses of Christmas and New Year. Although Lent is an important period on the Christian calendar, it must have seemed natural to our ancestors, since late winter/early spring was a time of cleansing and purification to both the ancient Romans and the ancient Celts. This season was also the natural time for them to do their spring cleaning, and may have been inspired by the spring rains washing the land.

In the southern hemisphere, Lent occurs in the late summer and autumn. However, many cultures hold their festivals of cleansing and purification in the autumn instead of the spring, tying them to the harvest and preparations for winter.

For example, the Aztecs of central Mexico had Ochpaniztli, the Month of Sweeping, corresponding to the first twenty days of September. They didn’t just have a Clean Up Day – for three weeks, not only houses were cleaned, but everyone pitched in and cleaned the entire city. They also took communal sweat baths, that were designed to cleanse the body, mind and spirit. Then they fasted – not for a mere forty days, like Lent, but for eighty days.

The presiding goddess of the Month of Sweeping was Toci, who was called The Mother of the Gods, and also Heart of the Earth. She was a goddess of healing, and venerated by healers and midwives. Another of her names was the “grandmother of sweat baths”, and she was also a war goddess. Her war epithet was Woman of Discord.

The Month of Sweeping was not only cleansing, but also a time for sowing corn, ritual dancing, and military ceremonies. It was a busy time of year. (If you have even a dim knowledge of Aztec society, you will be able to guess what else was performed during Ochpaniztli to honour Toci).

Another of her names was Tlazolteotl, a goddess of purification who could cleanse both the body and the spirit. People confessed their sins to Tlazolteotl through a priest, upon which they were forgiven (although people confess their sins during Lent too, the Aztecs did it only once in their lives; I don’t know what happened if you sinned after your confession).

Tlazolteotl sent people sexually transmitted diseases to punish them for lechery, but she would heal and forgive them too. She also inspired people with the desires to commit acts of lewdness … clearly she was a complicated goddess. She was called She Who Eats Sin, The Death Caused by Lust, and She of Two Faces. Slightly confusingly, under her two-faced designation, she was believed to consist of four different sisters representing different stages of a woman’s life: Tiacapan, Teicu, Tlaco and Xocotzin.

Toci means “our grandmother” in the Nahuatl language, as she was a very ancient goddess. It might seem strange to give a baby a name that means “grandmother”. And yet obviously we hope our baby daughters will grow up to be old and wise, and we don’t have any problems giving them the names of their grandmother, or our own grandmother. There are several names in Native American languages which mean “grandmother”, so they must have been seen as appropriate.

Toci only shows up a few time in the records as a name given to girls in Mexico, so this is a rarity even in its country of origin. English-speakers can pronounce the name something like TOH-see, to rhyme with Josie. Not only an interesting heritage choice, Toci has an elusive multicultural feel.

Toci does almost qualify as a truly unique name. It’s simple, it’s not frilly, and is difficult to turn into a nickname. Its meaning is venerable, and its history dark and mysterious. I don’t think for a moment that the average person would choose the name Toci, but for some reason it fascinates me.

POLL RESULTS
Toci received an approval rating of 43%. 40% of people disliked the name, and only 8% liked it.

(Picture is Woman Sweeping the Floor, by Deb Schmit)