An interesting discussion on Cate’s Journal and Book Reviews this week got me thinking about character names. I find naming characters both fun and challenging–and at times frustrating. Sometimes a name occurs to me when I first think of a character and seems to suit that character perfectly (Honoria, Val, David, and Simon all worked that way). Charles and Mélanie were actually the names of two secondary characters in an never-published book I wrote with my mom. Playing “what if” with their future inspired “Secrets of a Lady”. I changed a lot of the backstory, but I kept the names. I actually made list of possible alternative names for both of them, but I kept coming back to Charles and Mélanie.
I often make lists of possible names for a character. I usually start by thinking about the character’s parents and what sort of name they would have been likely to choose. I changed the name of Charles and Mélanie’s daughter from Cristina to Jessica because I realized Mélanie was much more likely to name her daughter after a character in a Shakespeare play than after her mother. Charles’s sister began as Beth because her mother was Elizabeth, but then I decided Lady Elizabeth Fraser wouldn’t have named her daughter after herself (and Kenneth Fraser would have shown no interest in the name whatsoever) so she became Diana, but that didn’t work either. Finally I decided that because Elizabeth’s mother was French, she’d have given her daughter a French name. The daughter became Gisèle, which worked right away. Her character didn’t really come into focus until I had the name right either. A couple of other characters in “Beneath a Silent Moon” began with different names as well. Evie Mortimer started out as Jane and Aspasia Newland was Emily. I settled on Evie because her full name is Evelyn, a family name, and Aspasia because her father is a classical scholar who named her after Pericles’s mistress. They too worked much better as characters with the “right” names :-).
After one settles on the right name for a character, there’s the question of how other characters address him or her, a particularly fraught question in an historical novel with myriad forms of address. I once heard Dorothy Dunnett give a talk where she talked about how brilliantly Georgette Heyer used different forms of address to delineate different relationships between characters. For instance, in “These Old Shades”, Justin Alastair, Duke of Avon, is “Avon” to most of his peers, “Alastair” to his old friends Hugh Davenant and Anthony Merivale (though both call him “Justin” in serious moments), and “Justin” to his brother and sister, not to mention “Satanas” in the whispers of the beau monde and “monseigneur” to Léonie. Dunnett uses this technique beautifully herself with Francis Crawford of Lymond, who is “Lymond” to most, “Mr. Crawford” to some, and also a variety of foreign titles he acquires in the course of his adventures. For someone to call him “Francis”–or for him to sign his given name to a letter–is a sign of great emotional intimacy.
Elizabeth George’s Inspector Lynley occasionally calls Sergeant Havers “Barbara”, but to my recollection Havers has only called Lynley “Tommy” once in the series so far, in a moment of great danger (I can’t find the book in question, but as I recall, she yells his name as she jumps into the water to save him). For Laurie King’s Holmes and Russell, on the other hand, calling each other by their surnames is almost a sort of private code between them (if they ever called each other “Sherlock” or “Mary” it would a sign that something was seriously wrong, or more likely that they were engaged in some sort of masquerade). Holmes and Watson called each other by their surnames as well, of course, but this would be a usual form of address between two gentlemen in the late nineteenth century. It’s more surprising between a man and a woman, particularly a man and woman who end up married.
The first time I had Charles address Mélanie by name, he just naturally called her “Mel” rather than “Mélanie”. Much farther into writing “Secrets of a Lady”, I realized that it says a lot about the way Charles sees her, which is much more as a comrade and partner in adventure than the delicate, elegant, exotic creature that “Mélanie” conjures up. He pretty much only calls her “Mélanie” when he’s extremely angry or otherwise driven beyond endurance. For a bit in “Secrets of a Lady” he can’t call her anything more intimate than “madam”, then he gets back to “Mel, and eventually “sweetheart”. (Mélanie, on the other hand, defiantly calls Charles “darling” through out the book). Raoul O’Roarke tries to remember to call Charles “Fraser” in acknowledgement of the fact that Charles is now an autonomous adult, but he tends to slip back into the past and call him “Charles”. (The first time being, “For God’s sake, Charles. You’ve known me all your life. Do you really think I’d be party to abducitng a child?”). Raoul never shortens Mélanie’s name to Mel, but he does call her “querida’, an endearment I don’t think he’d use for any other woman. Addison, Charles’s valet, who’s been with him since Oxford and in some ways probably knows him better than anyone, calls him “sir” or “Mr. Fraser”. But Blanca, Mélanie’s maid, who began as more of a friend before their masquerade began, calls her “Mélanie” when they’re alone.
The letters I write for the Fraser Correspondence and the A+ sections in the books bring up a new set of challenges. I have to decide not only how they characters address each other in speech but how they begin their letters. Charles writes to his best friend David with the fairly formal “My dear David” while David’s lover Simon (the playwright involved in Radical politics) address Mélanie was “Melly mine” (Simon, I think, is probably the only person who calls Mélanie “Melly”, again something that came to me when I wrote his dialgoue).
What do you think about character names? Do you notice them as a reader? If you’re a writer, how do you go about choosing them? Any other interesting examples of ways writers use names and forms of address?
I’ll be blogging more about this (with some historical examples) on the History Hoydens on Wednesday. Do stop by. I’ve also just posted this week’s addition to the Fraser Correspondence, a letter to Charles from Lord Quentin another character I had a difficult time naming. I wanted a courtesy title peole could shorten to a one-syllable name. I wrote a whole draft of “Beneath a Silent Moon” before I settled on “Quentin/Quen”.
November 11, 2007 at 8:19 pm
I actually christened a new character today. I’d written a bit of her using a placeholder name — something I occasionally do for a scene or two, but as usual, I had to stop and find a permanent one relatively quickly.
I settled on Blythe. Called “Bly” by her twin brother Charles. (I didn’t know until I named her that Charles had a twin. Interesting, the things you discover.)
November 11, 2007 at 8:39 pm
It is interesting the things you discover about characters as you write, isnt’t it? I like Blythe and “Bly” as a nickname. I use placeholder names sometimes too, but often I find I can’t get the character to work with the placeholder name. Or if the character does work, that name seems to become permanently attached to the character and it’s difficult for me to change it (which can be a problem if the name doesn’t work with other names in the book).
November 12, 2007 at 1:25 pm
I was waiting for this topic to spawn its own discussion 😉
Is it important that a character has a nickname? Some names have obvious abbreviations, and require them, to suit a personality or just to make conversation easier – ‘Elizabeth’ being one example (Liz, Beth, Betty, etc.), as well as Catherine. But other names have no shortened form, unless lobbing off the last syllable counts – my name, for instance, ‘Sarah’, has no pet form (although ‘Sadie and ‘Sally’ used to be popular alternatives). What then? Does use of the full name indicate a formality or a stuffiness about the character?
Using Melanie as a point of discussion, I put forward that I only ever thought of her by her full name when reading Tracy’s book, because (using the author’s response) it is an ‘exotic, elegant and delicate’ title, whereas ‘Mel’ sounded too modern and blunt to my ears (although I appreciate what Charles’ nickname for her says about their relationship and his feelings for his wife). I also adore Raoul’s term of endearment, ‘querida’, because I imagine him purring the word like Raul Julia in the Addams Family film 😉
In TSP, Percy addresses Marguerite as ‘Margot’ and ‘m’dear’ (and ‘Madam’ and ‘little woman’), but Marguerite only returns the familiarity with ‘Percy’ (although she does call him ‘Sir Percy’ at the start of the book!) Do either of them use ‘darling’, etc., as a replacement for a name, as opposed to a declaration of affection (‘my love’)?
This has made me think about how we address people, and whether affectionate terms and nicknames are commonplace, and if using or avoiding them says anything about our personalities. I personally only use people’s names, in full or pet form, and if terms like ‘love’ are used, it’s in a light, informal manner (my grandfather calls his grandchildren names like ‘flowerpot’, but I think that’s a purely northern English thing!)
November 12, 2007 at 5:10 pm
I have to research my names. It’s not difficult to find Roman ones, and while there are few Germanic names from the 1st century, the bipartite structure has survived a long time and it’s possible to reconstruct Germanic names from Gothic and Medieaval Dutch ones (having studied linguistics among other subjects, helps). But my British tribes give me a headache. The only names we have is a 12th century Pictish king list with some Latinised names, a few ones in Tacitus (Latin forms, too) and some Medieaval Irish ones that can be used to reconstruct possible names of 1st century Selgovae and Votadini. Another problem is the complicated spelling in both the Latin king list and the Irish names, so I have to simplify it a bit for the reader – except for historical characters who just have complicated names. It’s one of the reaons I use the Latin Arminius in the narrative instead of Irmanamers, but he is called that by the Germans, of course. In the Roman army, he’s Gaius Julius because he received the citizenship under Augustus who’s a Julian, and took up that name with his own.
The use of Roman names is fun, too. Marcus Horatius Veranius Aquila would be Marcus to his family (and that the Batavian Irminger calls him by that name has a significance), Marcus Horatius in the army, Horatius Veranius or Horatius Aquila to his superiors, Aquila in the narrative (to distinguish him from my other Horatii) and to some of his Batavian auxiliaries. To the tribes north of the wall he’s Aicilmuir and to the Brigantes Marcain. No wonder the poor guy gets and identity crisis. 🙂
I use few short forms because it wasn’t common in Rome and I somehow can’t see it in the German or Celtic tribes – it’s more a feeling than an actual information. Cailtharn sometimes calls his friend Talorcan Tal, but that’s about it.
November 12, 2007 at 6:20 pm
Good questions, Sarah! I think whether or not nicknames or endearments or pet names are used does tend to say something, both about the speaker and the person being address (as well as the relationship between them). Some names are difficult to shorten, as you say (it’s difficult to know what one might do with “Percy”, though it is significant when Marguertie goes back to “Percy” rather than “Sir Percy”). But if someone always called Elizabeth Bennet “Elizabeth” while everyone else called her “Lizzy” that would say something about the two characters and the relationshp between them. I think everyone who uses Elizabeth’s given name calls her “Lizzy” at least some of the time, except Darcy. He calls her “Elizabeth” at the end. I can’t remember if he ever calls her “Lizzy”, but I don’t think he does in the book. I wonder if he ever will?
There are several possible nicknames for “Charles” but it never occurred to me to have any of the characters use any of them, until “Beneath a Silent Moon’, when a man who has known Charles since boyhood calls him “Charlie”. It seemed right for their relationshiip, though none of Charles’s other boyhood friends or family use it. I did it partly because Mélanie is realizing this is a part of Charles’s life she knows nothing about, and here is this person calling Charles by a completely different name.
As I recall, Percy sometimes calls Marguerite “sweetheart”. I can’t remember Marguerite using endearments for Percy. Charles calls Mélanie “sweetheart” and occasionally “darling” or “my darling” or the Gaelic “mo chridh”, but calls her “Mel” much more often. He’s a self-contained man who guards his feelings close. Mélanie, who is much more open in her affections, calls him “darling” or sometimes “dearest” and uses endearments for other characters as well.
November 12, 2007 at 6:31 pm
Thanks for posting ,Gabriele! Names must be particular challenge in “your” era. The use of Latin and Germanic forms and the various forms of Roman names offer some of the same opportunities as the use of titles, surnames, and given names with English aristocrats or the use of nicknames and endearments. Didn’t the Romans often use “ill” to creat a diminuntive (say for a child who carries the same name). At least that’s what I remember from “I, Claudius” :-). “Livlilla” for the younger Livia, “Drusillus” for the younger “Drusus”, etc…
You’ve also touched on the fact that in an historical era (Regency England as well as ancient Rome) it was common for the same names to be used over and over, particularly within the same family. Which gives the author an incentive to use nicknames and pet names and shortened forms to differentiate characters. Now that I think of it, it seems it would have given people in the era the same incentive to differentiate among the four Marcuses or Georges in the family.
November 12, 2007 at 8:06 pm
Yes, that worked for some names like Drusillus (and the imperial family in ‘I Claudius’ was particularly messed up name-wise, with all those adoptions going on). Gaius or Sextus would rather be major and minor. Agnomen – some sort of nicknames – are used all the time. But the patrician families are still often a mess to sort out; I have a whole bunch of Publius Cornelius Lentulus Scipio-s to deal with. My Batavian auxiliaries are easier. 🙂
November 12, 2007 at 8:14 pm
Thanks, Gabriele! I think names and the different variants are fascinating. It does sound as though patrician Romans make names in 19th British century aristocratic look positively easy to sort out!
November 12, 2007 at 9:02 pm
Have you read Colleen McCullough’s Rome books? She has even more of the lot to disentangle because she uses mostly historical characters while my MCs are fictive (with the exception of Germanicus and Arminius) and the rest a mix of historical and fictional characters.
But her books are a fun read.
November 12, 2007 at 9:13 pm
I haven’t read Colleen McCullough’s Rome books–thanks for the recommendation! Real historical characters are a challenge, because one is ofen faced with multiple characters with the same name, etc… I’m dealing with that now in the third Charles & Mélanie book–there’s a real historical character who plays a significant role in the book whose name happens to be Charles. I end up rerferring to him by his surname/title a lot :-).
December 22, 2007 at 3:00 pm
[…] and it is horribly belated, Tracy Grant wrote a fascinating blog post on character names back in November, both on choosing character names and also how her characters […]
March 14, 2010 at 2:01 am
[…] I got some great feedback, so I thought I would extend the discussion here. As I’ve blogged about before, I find naming characters both fun and at times frustrating, because the right name has so much to […]