Here Comes Treble: What’s In A Name?
...“I knew a German man whose surname was ‘Nagel’ – ‘nail’ in that language. He was a rather prickly personality, and he became an acupuncturist!”...
Isabel Bradley wonders whether names can match personality, and possibly employment.
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A recent conversation made me wonder exactly how names affect who we are, what we do and what kind of people we become?
“Every ‘Jenny’ I’ve ever known,” I mused, “has been a kind, generous person, always willing to help others, to listen to other peoples’ troubles.”
My ‘Name Your Baby’ dictionary, says that Jennifer, or Guinevere, means ‘white-cheeked, white wave, white phantom’. That certainly doesn’t seem to have much to do with personality.
My colleague, Gill, replied, “I knew a German man whose surname was ‘Nagel’ – ‘nail’ in that language. He was a rather prickly personality, and he became an acupuncturist!”
“Hmmm,” I pondered, “In a way, his surname defined not only his personality, but his choice of occupation.”
I wondered if that was more than coincidence. Do names, titles and words we are associated with, have an influence over us?
Gill and I are secretaries, working with Tribologists. The word ‘tribology’ derives from the Greek, ‘tribo’, meaning ‘rubbing or friction’. Tribologists study friction: they apply the science of lubrication when one surface moves in relation to another, they make use of systems that reduce wear, such as ceramics and bearings.
Tribology applies to all fields of engineering, from nano-technology to the largest of machines. Surgeons not only use tools that need tribological principles to function, they apply lubrication within the joints they use to replace patients’ hips and knees. Tribology is used when playing the violin, applying just the right amount and texture of rosin to the bow so that it will move with just the right amount of friction over the strings to create musical sounds.
When a skier glides down a snow-covered mountain, he has used the science of tribology when waxing his board, to create the perfect connection for smooth gliding between snow and ski. Tribologists smooth the way. I’ve found them to be polite, pleasant, happy in their field and making everything around them work smoothly. Can this be a coincidence?
Our friend works with scientists and engineers who study corrosion. She has a totally different experience from ours. The study of corrosion seems to have a corrosive effect on the personalities of those who work in this sphere: they tend to be argumentative, and have difficult working relationships.
For many years, I worked at Weltevreden Park Primary School as secretary and receptionist. ‘Weltevreden’ is an Afrikaans word which means ‘contented, well satisfied’. For the most part, during the years I worked there, the staff and children were happy, and the parents were pleased with the standard of education and caring at the school. Most people who lived in the surrounding suburb, which was called Weltevreden Park, were peaceful, happy people.
There are names that seem to have no correlation whatsoever between their meanings and the personalities who live with them. Both of my given names, Isabel and Elise, are versions of Elizabeth, meaning ‘belonging to God’. Although in my teens I was deeply religious, I have since moved away from formal religion and from the beliefs held by my family in previous generations.
Other names are particularly apt: my daughter, Diane, is named after the Roman moon goddess, deity of the hunt. She was born under the star-sign of cancer the crab, known to be ruled by the moon. Her moods change with the phases of the moon.
My son’s name, Bergen, was given to him by his quarter-Norwegian father in a fit of patriotism, linking him to the city from which his great-grandfather originated. The name means ‘mountain dweller’, and while Bergen enjoys being in the mountains, they don’t rule him. It is a strong-sounding name. Perhaps the reference to mountains encourages him to climb symbolic mountains with enthusiasm.
My husband is known by several different forms of his name: on official documents, he is Leonard. To me and most people he’s known in his adult life, he is Leon. His family know him as Lee. The definitions for Leonard and Leon are ‘lion-brave’ and ‘lion-like’ respectively. Lions are strong, protective and loving towards their family, they enjoy a hearty meal and can be fierce when necessary. Those traits all fit my love very well indeed. The other version of his name, the one he grew up with, is Lee. The Irish Gaelic definition for Lee is ‘poetic’. Yes, that fits him too.
This study is fascinating, if inconclusive.
Perhaps names and titles do affect our lives deeply. Or was Will Shakespeare right when he had Romeo say, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet…” (Act 2, scene 2).
Until next time…. ‘here comes Treble!’
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by Isabel Bradley
