Showing posts with label names. Show all posts
Showing posts with label names. Show all posts

Wednesday, 13 February 2013

Shrub



Withenay's Wednesday Word - a series about words and their meanings. 
Sometimes the word is chosen because I like it, sometimes because it is unusual, sometimes because I have heard or read it in the previous week; often because that is just where the dictionary took me. Together we can expand our vocabulary, inch by inch (or maybe letter by letter). Your challenge is to invent a sentence in the comments box that includes it.


shrub
a low woody plant, smaller than a tree, a bush (a noun)
from Old English scrybb scrub

Not only do I love words but I also love names, and am fascinated to know where people's names come from, or why their parents chose them. Those with extraordinarily long memories will recall a post I wrote about Goodluck Jonathan, President of Nigeria, who (I feel) needed everything that his name could give him. Today's word was born out of a similar fascination after hearing about Anya Shrubsole.

Anya is a cricketer, currently our leading wicket taker in the Women's World Cup that is taking place in India. Sadly today England were knocked out of the competition - disappointing for the reigning world champions not to be able to defend their title in the final (but a magnificent effort by the West Indies!). I feel Shrubsole is an unusual name, although I'm prepared to be bombarded by hundreds of them correcting my error.

As a shrub is a small tree, perhaps I should also mention Billy Twelvetrees, recently picked to play for England's Rugby Union team in the 6 Nations. I gather that this was his mother's maiden name, that his father chose to take when they got married. His father then took up a career as a tree surgeon - a magnificent move I think.

I do wonder: does it mean anything that the man has the tree - indeed twelve of them - but the woman is a shrub...and a sole on the bottom of a foot? I do hope not! After all, both excel in their own fields (ahem!)

Friday, 26 February 2010

What's in a name?

This is a picture of Goodluck Jonathan: acting president of Nigeria (despite this happening). I don't envy his job: Nigeria is a difficult country. Colleagues in Zambia once told me that it was the place to disappear, as there were so many people and so little control over identity cards or passports or whatever. I suspect my skin colour would not permit such easy disappearance, but that comment has always tainted my view of Nigeria.

So - good luck to Goodluck!

It amuses me that he should have such an appropriate name. Here in the UK we laugh at celebrities who choose peculiar names for their children. Fifi Trixibelle? Brooklyn? Sunday (when born on a Monday)? All curious names, and likely to affect the children as they grow up.

My two have very solid, familiar names. You could even say they were dull, but we chose them because we like them. My son got the male equivalent of my late mother's name as a middle name, but otherwise there is no particular family connection. Nor were they particularly chosen for their meaning.

But in Africa, names seem much more blatant. They are a statement of the parents' standing or hopes or aspirations. When in Zambia, we had a maid called Precious, but my favourite name was Fineness. I knew a couple of these, and it always made me smile if only because it is such poor English. Yet you can see what their parents were thinking when they were born. We knew a man called Hope and others had names in the local languages that meant 'pretty' or 'man of the field' or 'artistic'.

In Ghana, children are named according to their position in the family (first child, second child, etc.) and which day of the week they are born on. So Kofi Annan is Friday Fourth-child. There was quite a large Ghanaian contingency in our church in London and so I knew a few Tuesdays and Thursdays!

But the name that has always amused me most is that of a young girl I once knew in Hong Kong. She felt she should not use her Chinese name but adopt a Western name. This practice was also common in Africa: somehow our (dull!) western names are viewed as more appropriate or more likely to get further on in life. It is an aside, but what a shame that we can't accept their names and cultures into ours so easily. Anyway - what amused me was the name she chose, as it seemed so inappropriate for a lively 18 year old.

Mabel.

Names come around and go around. What has influenced you in your choice of name?
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