What’s in a name? Or better yet — what is a name, what is it for? Forget old Bill and his rose by any other name smelling as sweet. First and last, forename and surname, cognomen or agnomen, names serve as identifiers. If you prefer, as the distinctive and proper appellation of a person or a family. Names of all kinds — even the ones we are sometimes “called” are words or groups of words by which a person, thing, animal, or heck, even a concept is distinctively known, or referred to.

Nowhere is a name more important than on a personal level. And dammit — until reaching the age of majority, with the concomitant legal privileges, the name that one is known by is hardly the result of personal choice. The family or surname is immediate baggage, the exclusive surname comes second. Although even then, those with megalomaniacal parents (mostly fathers, in this case), one can be saddled with pop’s name, always known as junior or the second. In some cases this goes too far, when people have to start using Roman numerals to identify themselves. When you are a member of royalty that is fair game. Monarchs must figure that their subjects have little capacity for remembering details such as surnames; hence George VI in England begets George Dubya in the United Snakes. And lets leave the propensity of Popes (who have after all a whole world of neat names to choose upon ascension to the papacy — just think, rather than conflating John and Paul, as has been done, a blend of George and Ringo instead...) to their proper a priori prerogative, and look at the simple people, the ones who make up the 99 44/100ths of any census roll.

In the old days people had but the one name, and if it was common, a qualifier was added. Charles the Bald might have been sensitive about his appearance, but there was no mistaking him for others, greater, or not. Estonians along with many other Europeans were identified by their farms — Kuusiku Lembit. Others received their qualifiers or surnames from their occupations, smiths everywhere seemed to dominate trades. Sepp, Schmidt, Kovacs, Smith — all common last names in Europe.

As populations grew, the need to have more interesting first names became obvious. The more John Smiths there were, the greater the likelihood that Zbigniew Brzezinski would stand out, anywhere. Paleoanthropologists have identified that brain growth is stimulated by the demands opf social interactions within froups. For examplethose ancestors of ours known as homo habilis had the neocortex capacity to identify, and have social knowledge of 82 of his like. By the time of the Neanderthals it has been estimated that the count was up to 144. Modern humans, on the other hand, have only made it to 150 members of its species that an individual knows socially and is able to monitor succesfully. No longer do we spend our life among 150 or so locals, travel and electronic communication means that we potentially come into contact with thousands and thousands of people during a life span, from school to workplace to retirement activity. And we are all known by that moniker that was attached to us by our loving parents.

Some parents have been long on love, but short on smarts. This seeems to be a growing trend these days, with parents giving their newborn ridiculous sobriquets. The last issue of this paper noted names registered in ther month of June in Tallinn. Hyphenated and moronic epithetical choices, having no meaning in Estonian caught the eye. Understandably, the desire to use foreign names has always been hard to resist, popular stars have also lent their names to generations, but it still seems that some parents have a sadistic bent. Frank Zappa’s children must have really loved him during their school years. Other psychadelically patterned parents left Rainclouds and Mushrooms to carry on the family heritage. These days its hard not to encounter a Brittany, Ashley, Mackenzie, Cameron or Dakota in a schoolyard.

Fortunately, at least most Estonian parents that fled the war were wise enough to avoid such trends. No Elvises or Marlons among us, nope, cautious parents preferred names that were OK in both English and Estonian. With the result that there are an awful lot of Toomases (Toms), Mihkels (Mikes) Tiinas and Lindas among the babyboomers here, far too few Ukus, Urmases and Ülos, Urves, Ülles or Leelos introducing themselves to the necessary world.

Mind you, some have changed their names, parents that did not realize what Peep, Priit or Tiit sounded like here could not object to Peters and Teds taking their place. With surnames though, all bets were and are off. Just try and teach a yank or a canuck how to pronounce Mäeumbaed. Creative pronounciation and interpretation of same became essential from school days on.

If only some of us could sue our strong willed fathers.... And according to the Ontario Court of Appeal, fathers are soon to legally be out of the surname business. The court, in a recent decision, provided mothers with the “ultimate ability” to name their children. Madame Justice Kathryn Feldman’s decision recognized the “fact that there will be circumstances where a mother will have the ongoing responsibility for the child, and should not be forced to have the child linked by name with the biological father.” This supports the changes David Peterson’s liberals made to the Vital Statistics Act in 1990, giving a mother sole right to provide her child with only her surname, should she so choose. In a standard marriage, consensual agreement is most often the norm, theses things almost never go to courts. But gosh — think of the possibilities today. Rather than Marion Morrison waiting until Hollywood to become John Wayne, a well educated child can appeal to the courts to be rid of unwanted appelative. Most of us estos have become used to the name that is the result of a whim or two, three. Many have made accomodations, encouraging nicknames, using short forms. (Although Enn is about as short as you can get, just one letter). One supposes that tis better to be a Uku than a Dakota, but Käitlin-Krõõt? Sorry mom, I think I like Mary-Kate more, and so, probably would she.

Arvamus

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