The Tiffany Problem, and names in historical fiction

 

The Tiffany Problem, and other naming issues

                                                             Theophania, aka Tiffany

 

One of my bugbears is when character names in books are ‘wrong’ in my important view  – in a post earlier this week I looked at contemporary writers, setting their novels in living memory, and whether or not the names are convincing. And I included some splendid lists of names from 50+ years ago. Many many readers came to comment – their views and lists of names are a delight.

This second post will look at names in historical fiction, but also mop up a few other aspects – we wouldn’t want to miss out any of my valuable opinions would we?

And I do have all kinds of opinions on character naming - read me in the Guardian on the subject  here – though that’s more about names that I just didn’t like for a variety of reasons. (I really enjoyed reading it again for this post. Many people have complaints about Gone Girl, but I think my particular whine is not one you see everywhere…)

I am not (solely) here to shame the guilty, though can’t resist mentioning Joel Dicker (who sold enough copies of his terrible book not to care what I think) – this is me dissing The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair – I am linking to my blogpost only because I enjoyed being mean about it.

There is a policeman called Gahalowood. Made that up did we? There is a slight ring of the writer Celine, who likes a strange name: Colonel O’Collogham in London Bridge is my favourite.

Historical fiction has the problem outlined gloriously by Robert Irwin in his magnificent Wonders Will Never Cease, set in 15^th Century England:

‘By the five wounds of Christ! This is the curse of the English aristocracy. We lords and ladies are so brainless that we cannot think of any names for our children except Elizabeth, Anne, Katherine, Henry, Richard, Edward and John. And then again Henry, Elizabeth, John, Katherine, Richard, Edward and Anne. So we are in a constant muddle as to who is who. The lower orders have more sense and imagination, for they take names like Hodge, Poyns, Garth, Alfred, Marigold and Beverley. By God, I am heartily tired of my own name, John, and I believe that I shall have myself called Actaeon, Zoroaster, or perhaps Fabrice.’

(One of the comments on the first post asks a question about the Irwin book, btw - would he really have used 'Beth' for an Elizabeth?)

And think of Henry VIII – he managed to marry 6 times, but only got 3 names between all of them. THREE Catherines? 

Anyway - this as an example of my complaints, without naming the book:

I am willing to go out on a limb here and say there was no Irish housemaid in the whole of London in 1888 called Sharon. So naturally I assumed Sharon was a time traveller. [Spoiler: she isn’t. It is just a mistake.]

But – is it possible I may be wrong?

My friend Emma told me recently about the fascinating Tiffany Problem: Jo Walton (a great favourite round here, and not only because she has visited the blog more than once) identified this by pointing out that Tiffany was in fact a popular name in mediaeval times, a version of another name, Theophania – but it would not sound convincing now in a historical novel. She talked about this in a podcast from the excellent The Allusionist - this is a transcript of the epi where she discusses the issue. So we have to be careful. And Jo Walton – whom I have endless respect for – identifies other ways in which we get the past wrong: it is well worth reading… you can get a flavour from this splendid line from Helen Zaltzman, the Allusionist herself:

And maybe, hundreds of years from now, archaeologists dig up a small pale blue Tiffany box, and after some time studying the other documentation they have unearthed, historians deduce that the box came from a place that sells breakfast.

St Theophania

Author Lissa Evans was quoted in my first post on names, and she had more comments on historical fiction:

But even names which are historically correct can sound wrong to the modern ear - for instance, an incredibly popular girl's name of the early 20th century was 'Pretoria', after a battle in the Boer War, but although using that name would be pleasing (to me) and accurate, I'm not sure that anyone would believe it...

And she added this:

Incidentally, my Mum spent her entire life explaining that she wasn't named Shirley after Shirley Temple (who was, in any case, younger than her) but after the Charlotte Bronte book!

I have been told that Charlotte Bronte chose the name as being distinctly UN-feminine – it was a place name, with certainly no history as a girls’ name. She wanted to represent, it is generally thought, her sister Emily, who was monumental and not at all a feminine figure. (Jimmy Porter in Look Back in Anger describes a male friend as ‘a sort of female Emily Bronte’). She deliberately chose an asexual name – but has been very much overtaken by events and by a rather small actress.

three Bronte sisters with sensible names

Incidentally, I always think (judgementally) that Charlotte Bronte’s two great friends were Ellen Nussey and Amelia Ringrose, so you’d easily pick her name as the future novelist among the three of them…

Keeping up the high literary tone, I always thought the song Mambo Number 5 contained a splendid list of women’s names for the era it was first released – around 1950. Checking that out for this post, I found to my astonishment that the original version, by Perez Prado, was  mostly instrumental, with a few scratch lyrics. The version we all know, with the names - a world-wide hit  – was written by Lou Bega in 1999. It is not known how he chose the names, but this is the list:

Angela, Pamela, Sandra, Rita, Monica, Erica, Tina, Sandra, Mary

Could they BE more 1950s?

If he wanted more names for further verses – this is a list of names in Elly Griffiths’ The Vanishing Box (published 2017): girls in a stage show in the mid-50s in Brighton. Excellent!

Elly G is another author who gives names good thought and gets them right.

I was delighted to find, from the reaction to my first post, that so many people share my fascination with this subject – although none of us seem to have a huge interest in men’s names, it’s definitely the female side that takes our attention. I’m also aware that I haven’t even mentioned Patricia Wentworth, Queen of the strange names, (though she does come up in the comments on the first post) but then she does not really reflect any aspect of real life. One day I will do a post on the names of Miss Silver World.

And, one final link – in this blogpost I explain how best-selling author Michael Lewis made me think about attitudes to names. Not intentionally (we worked together, but he wouldn't have the faintest idea who I am) - it was because his online fans were, I thought, unnecessarily rude about his children’s names, and I thought real life children should be protected from name-criticism

Michael Lewis and the Birth of Online Commenting (clothesinbooks.blogspot.com)

So I will stick to criticising fictional names, where I feel open warfare is permissible.

Please bring it on in the comments.