Some Names Of Characters In Fiction

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Title:     Some Names Of Characters In Fiction
Author: Francis Darwin [More Titles by Darwin]

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 Gruyère, 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 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 Cruchecassée 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.

NOTES

{16} Though, I confess, I only guess at some of them.

{17a} Fogle means a silk handkerchief, according to Farmer and Henley’s Dictionary of Slang, 1905, and may perhaps suggest the picking of pockets. Its connection with Bandanna is obvious.

{17b} The appropriateness of Burke is sufficiently obvious. The trial of Thurtell by Judge Park was also a cause celèbre. There was a ballad of the day in which the victim is described with some bloodthirsty detail which I omit:

"His name was Mr William Weare,
He lived in Lyons Inn."

After the murder Thurtell drove back to London and had a hearty supper at an eating-house. Judge Park, who tried him, is said to have exclaimed: "Commit a murder and eat six pork chops! Good God, what dreams the man must have had." Catherine Hayes was also a well-known miscreant.

{18} A collocation preceding by half a dozen years Doyle’s immortal travels of Brown, Jones, and Robinson.

{19} There is also a Mrs Glowry (chap. xxvi.), who speculates as to whether the Pope is to fall in 1836 or 1839.

{20} The History of Pickwick, 1891, pp. 14, 15.

{21} The History of Pickwick, 1891, p. 153.

{23} How much better is the name Madge Wildfire for a somewhat similar character in The Heart of Midlothian.

{25} The name of the ducal seat Gatherum Castle is utterly bad.

{26} Here referred to by his Christian name only. I think it was this eminent M.D. who was called in when Bishop Grantley was dying.

[The end]
Francis Darwin's essay: Some Names Of Characters In Fiction

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