A Literary Name Nerd

I was reading Winter's Child by Cameron Dokey and found this passage:

Though my father and I never discussed names again, that afternoon marked the beginning of my fascination with them. I began to make a study of names, collecting them much like other children collected coins or stamps or dolls.

It wasn't simply the sound of a name that appealed to me, though I did enjoy this: the way a name felt inside your mouth as you formed its syllables, the space it occupied in the air when you pronounced it. But there was also the way a name and the person who bore it got along together. For this, or so it always seemed to me, was the heart of what a name is all about.

It really tickled me to find this. It's the first time I ever saw name love come up in a novel.

It's About Love

Over the last several days I've had an unprecedented spike in page views. It's been a bit bizarre for me to think of the sheer quantity of people, most likely complete strangers, who found their way over here.

Today during church I thought of a way I could take advantage of this sudden wave of popularity. No, I'm not Monetizing. Notice the lack of ads on the page.

My cousin Bob and his wife want to be parents. They are trying to adopt but need a birth parent to choose them for their child. If you are in a position to place a child for adoption, or if you know somebody who is, please look at their profile. It has a message from them, pictures, and answers to some get-to-know-you questions. I have had a link up on my left sidebar for a while now and it will remain there so you can find it easily should you become aware of a situation where it might prove useful (that sentence sounds very clunky but I can't think of a better way to phrase it at the moment).

Any child placed with them would be loved and cherished. Please give them the chance to fill that spot in their home and their hearts.

Any Other Name

When Kate Bjorkman starts actually dating her brother's friend in the book The Unlikely Romance of Kate Bjorkman (Sorry for the spoiler, but seriously, it's a romance. You know they're going to get together.), she starts calling him Richard instead of Rich.

In The Luckiest Girl by Beverley Cleary, Shelley won't call Philip "Phil" because the nickname doesn't feel special enough for him.

I don't get that.

Whatever my feelings about them, I tend to think of boys by whatever everybody else calls them. If he generally goes by Ricky, I think of him as Ricky. If he goes by Richard, that's what I call him. The only time I didn't, it was because his nickname was very unusual, which made it seem like a pet name. And I did not feel close enough to him to use it. I did eventually get over that. But it was a real issue, because a pet name is special. Short form nicknames are often just "their name" - if you ask a guy his name and he answers Dave, there's a pretty good chance his birth certificate says David. But nobody is likely to answer the "what is your name" question with the pet name their mother calls them unless they're about a year old.

You hear of lovers calling each other pet names like honey, bunny pie, sweetums, and so forth. Other names actually come from real attributes and specific conversations between the people involved. I understand those. In fact, I actually use some. But I don't understand when or how you go from calling somebody "Jack" or "Alice" to calling them "Darling". And I am apparently not the only person who finds the transition odd. When Zack and Kelly get engaged in Saved By the Bell: College Years, Zack decides the time has come for them to use the traditional appellations, and he and Kelly have the following conversation:

Zack: Well, good morning, honey.
Kelly: Honey?
Zack: Sure. I mean, what do almost married people call each other? I know, I know, why don't you call me what your mom calls your dad?
Kelly: Okay, I'll call you Frank.

Maybe I could someday end up calling some guy weird petnames Or be called them by him. I don't see it now, but I probably shouldn't say impossible. Still, when I think of it... well, I was watching Oklahoma! with my family one day this winter, and when Ado Annie sang about "Sposing that he says that you're sweeter than cream, and he's gotta have cream or die?" I said I'd probably laugh at him. It's not that I don't like romance - I do. I just don't think that is romantic. Romance should be sincere and personal. And a lot of those over-the-top compliments usually seem insincere, unoriginal, and impersonal. I want compliments that apply specifically to me and could not be used on just any old girl who catches your fancy. And even more than that, I want them to actually mean something.

Timeless

The June issue of Scientific American came in the mail yesterday. So I brought it with me to read on the bus today.

One of the articles, about evidences of quantum mechanics showing up in macroscopic systems, predicts major changes in our understanding of the fundamental laws of the universe. The article is here. I think you'll be able to read it, but if not, you'll at least be able to get the main points off the "In Brief" sidebar.

But what I'm writing about is the last sentence of the fourth-to-last paragraph, which says "We must explain space and time as somehow emerging from fundamentally spaceless and timeless physics."

When I read that sentence, I didn't think of a complete change in how I see and understand the world. At least, not for more than a few seconds. What I really thought was that if reality is fundamentally timeless, then the idea of Heavenly Father seeing all times as now is a lot easier to comprehend.

Nonfictional Characters

Around the time I started high school I was pretty into historical fiction novels (as opposed to historical nonfiction novels, I suppose). They helped me relate to people living in different periods and helped me to connect with history in a way I never had before. After reading about them in novels, the events we studied in history class were no longer dry lists of dates, but influences in real people's lives. Sure, I knew that before. But I didn't realize it so much until I saw the world through their eyes for a while.

In a lot of historical fiction, real people play a role in the story. Sometimes they have little walk-on roles. Sometimes they are minor characters who appear often enough to become familiar, but are never really center stage. Occasionally they never appear onstage, but influence events indirectly. And once in a while the entire novel focuses around real historical figures.

Recently I started to wonder what these historical figures would think of the way they are portrayed in novels. Would they be offended at the way they are portrayed? Flattered? Do the authors ever get them right?

And do any of them know they are being written about?

Death of a Bad Man

Reading people's responses to the news of bin Laden's death last night left me feeling ill. Not all of them. The ones talking about political and military consequences didn't bother me. What got to me was people in joyful celebration of the death of another human being.

Sometimes when a person dies, their friends and family are glad that they are done with the pain and suffering from disease. I don't know much about bin Laden's condition over the last few years. It wouldn't surprise me if there had been suffering. But somehow I doubt that's what my facebook friends are celebrating. And sometimes people use a funeral as a celebration of the life that has just ended, remembering the fun times and the good things the recently deceased did and achieved. I find this an even less likely reason for my friends' attitudes. What they really remind me of are public executions.

I've read of hangings and beheading and such being festive occasions where people crowd into the town square to see the proceedings. I don't know if they actually went down as such; this image comes entirely from novels and movies. But I could never understand why somebody would want to go see a person killed, and then afterward how they could have any spirit of gaiety or even an appetite. They just watched a person die. A life was taken. Even if the punishment was deserved (and I am not at all in the mood to debate the merits of capital punishment), it should have been a sober occasion.

I tell myself that the celebrations are because they see a military victory and a step towards peace. And I am sure that for some it is. But what it looks like to me is delight in the killing of an enemy. Well, I'm not good at looking at people as enemies. The closest I come is wishing bad luck on sports rivals. I am a complete failure at hatred. And what I see is that one of Heavenly Father's children has been killed. And instead of a celebration of the great life lived, I feel sorrow for the waste of potential and the loss of the good life that could have been.

Loverly

The first time I watched My Fair Lady, I was a teenager with dreams of perfect romance and I thought Eliza should end up with Freddy. After all, he was the young, attractive boy who was so smitten with her that he was happy just to wait around outside her door, then followed her to the bad part of town because he was concerned for her safety before escorting her home again.

Several years went by and I watched it again. My ideas of romance had changed somewhat since then, and this time I saw Freddy as a foolish boy with too few responsibilities and who was infatuated with Eliza because she was different than the girls he was used to. But I still don't like her going back to Professor Higgins. He treats her like an object. And the revelation that he treats her the same as everybody else, which was supposed to be a good thing, is the biggest turn-off of all. I'd rather a man treat me poorly because of some personal bias than because he just doesn't have any respect for people in general.

So I think the best ending for Eliza would be to be set up in a flower shop, like she had wanted at the beginning. Sure, it would be hard at first. But she'd adjust. And it'd be better than being married off to a man who has no concern for anybody other than himself or to a man who could never understand where she came from.