To some readers the personality of the characters in fiction is
everything, and the names under which they appear of no importance. This
is doubtless a rational position, but to me, and I think to many other
novel-readers, the names which our imaginary friends and enemies bear is
a matter of the greatest interest. To us it seems unbearable to have a
Mr B. as a principal character, and the same objection applies to the
names of places--"the little town of C. near the cathedral town of D." is
too depressing. Trollope, who does not rank high as a name-artist,
entirely satisfies us with his Barchester and its Bishop Proudie and
Archdeacon Grantley. George Eliot, too, has been able in the case of
Stonyshire and Loamshire to give convincing names to counties, and never
offends in the names of her characters, though they have no especial
attractiveness.
In some cases it is hard to say whether or no a given name is
appropriate. In Jane Austen's books, for instance, we have grown up in
familiarity with the characters and we cannot associate them with others.
It would be unbearable to have Emma's lover called Mr William Larkins and
his servant George Knightley. And this is not merely the result of old
acquaintance; there is, I cannot doubt, a real dignity in one name and a
touch of comedy in the other. For this statement one can but rely on
instinct, but a real William Larkins (and I must apologise to him if he
exists) will doubtless take a different view of the matter.
But Jane Austen, like George Eliot, makes no pretence to be an artist in
nomenclature. She merely aims, I imagine, at names which, without being
colourless, are free from meaning and in every way possible.
Thackeray is the outstanding instance of a novelist who makes a fine-art
of nomenclature. With him there is an obvious delight in coining names.
Thus there would be no harm in Clive Newcome going to Windsor and
Newton's shop to buy paint brushes, but Thackeray sends him to Messrs
Soap and Isaac--a parody of that highly respectable firm which always
pleases me.
I have with some little labour made a rough index of _Vanity Fair_, and I
find in the second volume (which is probably a fair sample of the names
in the whole book) that there are 247 names. The author evidently takes
a delight in their invention. For instance, at one of Becky's great
dinner parties (vol. ii., p. 172), the eminent guests who come in after
dinner are principally cheeses {16}--Duchess (Dowager) of Stilton, Duc de
la Gruyere, Marchioness of Cheshire, Marchese Alessandro Strachino, Comte
de la Brie, Baron Schapzuger. The list also contains the name of
Chevalier Tosti, who, I take it, is toasted cheese.
The titles he gives to business firms are not always complimentary. For
instance, we have (vol. ii., p. 283) the case of poor Mr Scape, who was
ruined by entering the great Calcutta house of Fogle, {17a} Fake and
Cracksman. Both Fogle and Fake had left the firm with large fortunes,
"and Sir Horace Fogle is about to be raised to the peerage as Baron
Bandanna."
A similar type of name is the title of Becky's solicitors, Messrs Burke,
Thurtell and Hayes, {17b} who forced the Insurance Company to pay the
amount for which poor Jos Sedley's life had been insured (vol. ii., p.
391). It is interesting to find (vol. ii., p. 341) that the author
introduces himself in the person of Mr Frederick Pigeon, who "lost eight
hundred pounds to Major Loder and the Honourable Mr Deuceace." This may
remind us of Thackeray's own loss of 1500 pounds in a similar way (_Dict.
of Nat. Biog._). In some instances the author evidently could not take
the trouble to coin effective names, as for instance in his reference to
the firm of Jones, Brown and Robinson {18} (vol. ii., p. 130). A member
of this firm became 1st Baron Helverlyn, when he altered his name to
Johnes. His unfortunate daughter became the wife of Lord Gaunt. The
subsidiary titles of this nobleman are pleasant--Viscount Hellborough,
Baron Pitchley and Grillsby.
Other firms are represented as purely Jewish, _e.g._, Mr Lewis
representing Mr Davids, and Mr Moss acting for Mr Manasseh, who
complimented Becky "upon the brilliant way in which she did business"
when she was making arrangements for Rawdon's debts (vol. ii., p. 10).
There are many good names of shady people, _e.g._, Lady Crackenbury (vol.
ii., p. 140), whom Becky cut, and Mrs Washington White, to whom she "gave
the go-by in the Ring"; Mrs Chippenham (p. 160) and Mme de la
Cruchecassee are of the same type. There is also Lady Slingstone, who
said that Lord Steyne was "really too bad," but she went to his party.
Among the virtuous folks, I am particularly fond of Sir Lapin Warren
(vol. i., p. 207), whose lady was about to present him with a thirteenth
child. A variant occurs in vol. ii., p. 286, where we read of "thirteen
sisters, daughters of a country curate, the Rev. Felix Rabbits."
One might quote names for ever, but I must be satisfied with but a few
more.
Among the professionally religious folks we have Rev. Lawrence Grills.
Among the fashionables Lady FitzWillis of the Kingstreet family;
Major-General and Lady Grizzel Macbeth (she had been Lady G. Glowry,
daughter of Lord Grey of Glowry {19}); and Mrs Hook Eagles, who
patronised Becky.
Names that seem to me bad are Fitzoof, Lord Heehaw's son, Mrs Mantrap,
and Lord Claude Lollypop. But there are innumerable other good ones:
Macmurdo, who was to have been Rawdon's second in a duel with Lord
Steyne; Captain Papillon of the Guards, attending the young wife of old
Methuselah (a bad name); young May and his bride, "Mrs Winter that was,
and who had been at school with May's grandmother."
Viscount Paddington was a guest at Becky's "select party" in May Fair.
Finally, the Earl of Portansherry and the Prince of the house of
Potztausand-Donnerwetter are good although obvious.
In _Pendennis_ are many good names. Major Pendennis was proud of having
made up the quarrel between Lady Clapperton and her daughter Lady
Claudia. Lady John Turnbull, who spoke such bad French. Mr Kewsy, the
barrister. Mr Sibwright, the luxurious young man in whose vacant chamber
Laura Bell slept during Pendennis' illness. The best of all names must
be given in Morgan's own words, "Lord de la Pole, sir, gave him [a valet]
to his nephew young Lord Cubley, and he have been with him on his foring
tour, and not wishing to go to Fitzurse Castle, etc., etc."
I must reluctantly leave Thackeray and consider a very different maker of
names, namely Dickens. It is sometimes said that his names are not
invented but discovered by research. In my son Bernard's _A Dickens
Pilgrimage_ (_Times_ Series, 1914), he writes, p. 22: "Other people have
been before us in seeing that Mr Jasper keeps a shop in the High Street
of Rochester," and that "Dorretts and Pordages are buried under the
shadow of the cathedral." He claims as his own the discovery that in the
churchyard of Chalk (near Rochester) there are "three tombstones standing
almost next door to one another and bearing a trinity of immortal names,
Twist, Flight, and Guppy." He adds that "the lady in _Bleak House_ spelt
her name Flite." I fail to believe that anybody was ever called
Pumblechook, and there are others equally impossible. But the great name
of Pickwick is not an invention. Mr Percy Fitzgerald {20} gives plenty
of evidence on this point, in a discussion suggested by the sacred name
being inscribed on the Bath coach, to Sam Weller's indignation. There
was, for instance, a Mr William Pickwick of Bath, who died in 1795.
Again, in 1807, the driver of "Mr Pickwick's coach . . . was taken
suddenly and very alarmingly ill on Slanderwick Common." One member of
the family "entered the army, and for some reason changed his name to
Sainsbury." The object, as Mr Fitzgerald points out, is obvious enough.
Mr Fitzgerald mentions (p. 16) the curious fact that Mr Dickens (the son
of the author) once had to announce that he meant to call Mr Pickwick as
a witness in a case he was conducting. The Judge made the characteristic
remark, "Pickwick is a very appropriate character to be called by
Dickens."
With regard to the name Winkle, I cannot agree with Mr Fitzgerald {21}
that Dickens took it from Washington Irving's _Rip Van Winkle_.
Among the few names taken from real people is that of Mr Justice
Stareleigh, who is generally believed to be Mr Justice Gaselee.
Sergeant Buzfuz in the same trial is believed on the authority of Mr
Bompas to be Serjeant Bompas, the father of that eminent Q.C., but there
seems to be no evidence that it is a portrait. In _Pickwick_ some of the
best names are those of various business firms, _e.g._, Bilson and Slum,
who were Tom Smart's employers. In the Judge's chambers (which "are said
to be of specially dirty appearance") was a crowd of unfortunate clerks
"waiting to attend summonses their employers had taken out, which it was
optional to the attorney on the opposite side to attend or not, and whose
business it was from time to time to cry out the opposite attorney's
name. For example, leaning against the wall . . . was an office lad of
fourteen with a tenor voice; near him a common law clerk with a bass one.
A clerk hurried in with a bundle of papers and stared about him.
"'Sniggle and Blink,' cried the tenor.
"'Porkin and Snob,' growled the bass.
"'Stumpy and Deacon,' said the newcomer."
These are fairly good names, though they have not the touch of Thackeray.
I like the names of the chief heroes in the cricket match at Dingley
Dell. Dumpkins and Podder went in first for All-Muggleton, the bowlers
on the other side being Struggles and Luffey. These names are so
familiar that it is hard to judge them, but on the whole they seem to me
fairly good, as being slightly comic and not impossible. But when we
come to Horatio Fizkin, Esq., of Fizkin Lodge, and Hon. Samuel Slumkey,
of Slumkey Hall, we are indeed depressed. But there are worse names in
_Pickwick_. When Mrs Nupkins and her daughter have discovered Captain
Fitz-Marshall to be a scamp: "How can we ever show ourselves in society?"
said Miss Nupkins.
"'How can we face the Porkenhams?' cried Mrs Nupkins.
"'Or the Griggs?' cried Miss Nupkins.
"'Or the Slummintowkens?' cried Mrs Nupkins."
This last seems to me about as bad a name as any writer ever invented.
But Nockemorf, the name of Bob Sawyer's predecessor in the apothecary
business, is almost equally tiresome in a different style.
Why he chose such names it is hard to say, since he certainly could
invent improbable names which are nevertheless appropriate. For
instance, Smangle and Mivins are quite good names for the offensive
scamps on whom Mr Pickwick is "chummed" in the Fleet Prison.
Daniel Grummer, the name of Mr Nupkins' tipstaff, is roughly of the same
type, and Wilkins Flasher, as an objectionable stockbroker is called, is
quite a passable name. The only name in _Pickwick_ which is comparable
to those of Thackeray is Mrs Leo Hunter, while Count Smorltork, who
occurs in the same scene, is unbearable. On the other hand, Captain
Boldwig is quite a good name.
I now pass to Sir Walter Scott. It must be confessed that in the two
books chosen for analysis--_Guy Mannering_ and _The Antiquary_--he is
disappointing as an artist in nomenclature. To begin with _Guy
Mannering_, it is impossible to imagine why he gave such a name as Meg
Merrilies to his magnificent heroine. It suggests "merry lies," and
makes us suspect that she was originally intended for a comic character.
{23} And why, as she grew into a tragedy queen, he did not rename her I
cannot understand. Fortunately he gave the colourless name Abel Sampson
to another great character--the immortal Dominie. Again Dirk Hatteraick
is a passable name. I cannot pretend to say whether it is a Dutch name,
but as Dirk uses German (of a sort) when not speaking English, we may
leave the question open. Among the names which are clearly bad are: Sir
Thomas Kittlecourt, John Featherhead, Sloethorn (a wine merchant),
Mortcloke the undertaker, Quid the tobacconist, Protocol the lawyer, and
lastly the MacDingawaies, a Highland sept or clan.
The following seem to be bearable or fairly good, but I must confess to a
want of instinct as to Scotch names: MacGuffog, a constable, Macbriar,
Dandy Dinmont (although a _dinmont_ is the Scottish for "a wedder in the
second year"), MacCandlish. On the whole, as far as _Guy Mannering_ is
concerned, the author gets but few good marks and many bad ones.
The same is, I fear, true of _The Antiquary_. We find such bad names as
Rev. Mr Blattergowl of Trotcosey (vol. i., p. 208); Baron von
Blunderhaus; Dibble the gardener; Dousterswivel, the German or Dutch
swindler; the Earl of Glengibber; Goldiword, a moneylender; Dr
Heavysterne, from the Low Countries; Mr Mailsetter of the Post Office;
Sandie Netherstanes the miller; Jonathan Oldbuck, the hero of the book;
Sir Peter Pepperbrand of Glenstirym. Of the name Strathtudlem I cannot
judge; it does not strike me as good, though possibly better than the
immortal Tillietudlem of _Old Mortality_.
There are, of course, a number of names which do not offend, but there
are few which are actually attractive. Among the last-named class are
Edie Ochiltree, Francis of Fowlsheugh, Elspeth of Craigburnfoot, Lady
Glenallan, Francie Macraw, Ailison Breck, but among these Edie Ochiltree
is the only name which is undoubtedly in Class I.
It is disappointing to a lover of Sir Walter Scott to be obliged to show
that as an artist in names he ranks low. But his sense of humour
occasionally fails in other matters. I remember being reproved (when a
young man at Cambridge) for saying that Scott showed a want of humour in
Jeanie Deans' letter to her father, in which she tells him that Effie has
been pardoned. The author introduces in brackets: "Here follow some
observations respecting the breed of cattle, and the produce of the dairy
which it is our intention to forward to the Board of Agriculture." I
still think I was right, and that the eminent person who snubbed me was
wrong.
Among the works of more modern writers I have analysed one of
Trollope's--the _Small House at Allington_. The names on the whole are
harmless and normal, such as Christopher Dale of Allington; Adolphus
Crosbie, the bad hero; Montgomerie Dobbs, his friend; Fothergill,
factotum to the Duke of Omnium, and many others. Some names are only
saved by our familiarity with them, _e.g._, Lady Dumbello or the
above-mentioned Duke of Omnium. {25} Among the fanciful names Mr
Fanfaron and Major Fiasco are in the bad rather than in the good class,
though if they had more appropriateness they might be passed.
The positively bad names are numerous enough--the Marquis of Auldreekie;
Basil and Pigskin, who keep a leather warehouse; Sir Raffle Buffle;
Chumpend, a butcher; Lady Clandidlem; the Rev. John Joseph Jones is
damned because he, an obvious Welshman, is described as of Jesus College
at Cambridge instead of Oxford. Kissing and Love, two clerks in Johnny
Eames' office, might have been passed had not the author gone out of his
way to refer to the lamentable jokes made in the office about them. Mr
Optimist is an incredibly bad name, and the same may be said of Sir
Constant Outonites. The physician, Sir Omicron Pi, {26} may have a
meaning of which I am ignorant. I think Thackeray would have spelled it
Sir O'Micron Pye, which would have given a touch of reality.
There is one class of books which I have not noticed, namely, those in
which all or nearly all the characters have names with an obvious
meaning. The great instance of this type is Bunyan's _Pilgrim's
Progress_, in which occur well-known names such as Mr Worldly Wiseman,
Faithful, Mr Facing-both-Ways, Lord Desire-of-Vain-Glory, etc. There are
two exceptions in _The Pilgrim's Progress_, namely Demas, which is taken
from 2 Timothy iv. 10, and Mnason (Acts xxi. 16).
An author of this type, with whom Bunyan would have objected to be
classed, is Sheridan. In _The Rivals_ we have the immortal names of Sir
Anthony Absolute, Sir Lucius O'Trigger, Mrs Malaprop, and Lydia Languish.
Bob Acres has not so obvious a meaning, but is clearly meant to imply
rusticity. The chief exception is Faulkland, and there are also David,
Julia, and Lucy.
In _St Patrick's Day_ we have Dr Rosy, Justice Credulous, Sergeant
Trounce, Corporal Flint. The hero, Lieutenant O'Connor, is the principal
exception.
Finally, in _The School for Scandal_, we have Sir Peter Teazle (which
suggests a prickly irritable nature), as well as names with a more
obvious meaning, _e.g._, Joseph Surface, Sir Benjamin Backbite, Snake,
Careless, Sir Harry Bumper, Lady Sneerwell, and Mrs Candour.
The other characters have names without meanings, _e.g._, Rowley, Moses,
Trip, and Maria. The fact that the very different characters, Charles
and Joseph Surface, necessarily bear the same surname shows how difficult
it is to carry out a system such as that on which Sheridan's nomenclature
is based.