Names occupy an important space in folklore, and a variety of customs, taboos, and beliefs have evolved around naming practices in American history. The impact of name lore ranges from geographical names, which help identify a particular place either generally or as part of local custom, to the use of names in folktales and even magic.
Place names in the United States often reflect Native American roots, local legends, or distinctive landscape features found in the area. Hell, Michigan, and Truth-or-Consequences, New Mexico, both represent the eclectic and eccentric naming tendencies of American geography. Benjamin Botkin describes several locations in New England that bear diabolical names, such as the Devil’s Den or The Devil’s Wash-bowl. In contrast, some places, such as Athens, Georgia, or Memphis, Tennessee, are named after important antecedent cities in Old World Western civilization, while a place like Montana earns its nominative from the mountainous landscape (montaña being the Spanish word for mountain). In folklorist Richard Dorson’s Buying the Wind, he notes place names in Illinois with distinctive Egyptian roots, such as Cairo, Karnak, and Thebes, due to a perceived connection between the American Mississippi River and the Egyptian Nile. Place names that represent particular geographic traits or aspects of local color sometimes seem to take on a life of their own. In a Korean American folktale, a feng shui expert is trying to figure out why a man’s luck ran out after he came into possession of a certain piece of land called Pheasant Hill. One junior geomancer declares that the “pheasant” must fly—or change owners—frequently to retain its luck, but the master looks at the surrounding place names, which are Dog Hill, Falcon Hill, and Cat Hill, and determines that no bird could fly with such predators waiting around it, and thus the hill will never be lucky.
Just as places can be named for distinctive characteristics, so too are people frequently given nicknames by those who have the keenest insight into their most notable traits and personal narratives. In one Mexican American folktale, a burly, shaggy man named Juan takes on the additional nickname of “del Oso” because of his bear-like qualities. Similar stories appear in Louisiana connected to the Cajun character of Jean l’Ours (John the Bear). African American folklore features a wide variety of characters named for important attributes. The figure of Clever John or John de Conker (John the Conqueror) who frequently outwits his pugnacious “Massa” or slave master, received his nickname based upon his ability to outfox his owner. Similarly, particular forms such as the famous Brer Rabbit legends popularized by Joel Chandler Harris and drawn from African American folklore can be used to unify rather than differentiate. In Harris’s stories, “Brer” simply represents a dialectic form of “brother” and is attached to nearly every male character as a sign of familiarity and community. In Louisiana communities, Cajun families often supply one another with un tit nom, or “a little name,” such as Tit Bec (Little Snoot) or Tit Doux (Little Sweetheart). In these social structures, “members of families rarely call each other by their names,” says folklorist Elizabeth Brandon.
Names also carry significant spiritual power. During the Salem witch trials, one of the chief claims made by alleged witchcraft victims was that the accused witch’s “specter” or spirit-body had attempted to coerce them into signing their names in a “Devil’s book,” thereby relinquishing ownership over their souls. A number of taboos surround names and naming practices. Sir James Frazer notes that in many cultures including those of the Egyptians, Ojibwe, and Patagonians—to name but a few—community members believe that “magic may be wrought on a man just as easily through his name as through his hair, his nails, or any other material part of his person.” In the Appalachian Mountains, some believe that changing a baby’s name after birth inevitably leads to its death, or at the very least a lifetime of bad luck for the child. Taboos on naming certain people or objects also pervade American folk belief. The proverb “Speak of the Devil, and he will appear” demonstrates the prohibition against naming evil for fear of attracting evil. Many contemporary parents still maintain the taboo about revealing the name of an unborn child for fear of attracting bad luck or even death.
Many people also use names to effect positive change, as well. If a family wishes for a girl child after having a run of boys, naming the most recent boy Adam is supposed to cause the next infant to be female. In parts of the upland South, a long-standing cure for bewitchment involves making a crude drawing of a witch, naming it after the suspected tormentor, and then shooting the image with a silver bullet. Beliefs about bad luck notwithstanding, when an illness brings a child near death, some parents may change the child’s name to confuse the Angel of Death into letting the child live. In New England, many early American colonists practiced “providential naming,” which involved choosing a child’s name from its surroundings or from momentous events or virtues they wished the child’s life to reflect, such as Reliance, Patience, or even Peregrine for a child born during the long journey from one country to another.
In folklore, perhaps the most famous narrative involving the power of names is the Grimms’ “Rumpelstiltskin” (Aarne-Thompson Type 500—“Name of the Helper” and Baughman Motif H52—“Test: Guessing unknown propounder’s name”). American folktales reflect the Rumpelstiltskin type on occasion, as in the Louisiana Cajun tale of “The Miller,” recorded by Corinne Saucier. Names can also be used by wicked spirits to torment mortals. The Wendigo spirit of the Northern Plains and Canada reportedly calls out a person’s name to lure them away from their camp, then sweeps them up in the wind. One version of this tale involves a hunter and his native scout named DeFago. While most of the tribespeople in the area refuse to take the hunter out to a dangerous icebound area to hunt—out of fear of the evil spirits that dwell there—DeFago, desperate for money, agrees to lead the man. While out on the ice, DeFago hears something calling his name and walks out into the wind. The Wendigo spirit then grabs him and drags him along so fast that his feet burn off, and he is never seen again. The hunter breaks camp and flees.
One Kentucky story builds upon the belief in the “Devil’s book” and the importance of protecting one’s name. In the tale, a man discovers that his neighbor can churn butter faster than should be possible. Searching for an explanation, the man finds a bit of red rag under his neighbor’s churn. He steals a bit of it and slips it under his wife’s churn. The charm has amazing results, but his wife is terrified of what might happen if they continue using it. The man stuffs the red rag in his pocket and goes for a walk, only to be met by the Devil in the woods. The Devil insists that since the man is now using witchcraft, he must sign the book, signifying that “We and all we possess belong to the Devil.” The man notes that many of his neighbors’ names are signed. Thinking quickly, the man takes the book and turns a page over, writing “We and all we possess belong to the Lord,” then signs his own name, which sends the devil screeching away and frees him from mortal peril.
The use of names can also be spiritually dangerous, as exhibited by the famous “Bloody Mary” mirror game often played by children at the cusp of adolescence. In this activity, a child—usually a young girl—enters a dark room that has a mirror, such as a bathroom. Sometimes she carries a lit candle, although sometimes she has no light source whatsoever. Looking into the mirror, she chants a variant of the name “Bloody Mary” at least three times, after which a vengeful specter is supposed to appear and leave visible proof of its presence, either by scratching her face or by gripping her wrist. Variants of this game can be found for a variety of local spirits, such as the famous Bell Witch of Tennessee. Of course, most children’s games involving names are much more innocuous and tend to be focused on remembering the names of others in their peer set, such as the “Name Game” song, with its catchy and repetitive mnemonic of “banana-fana-fo-fana.” The game can also be subverted by children who attempt to trick one another into saying forbidden words by using names likely to lead to a verbal taboo during the game.
Names serve important folkloric functions in both narrative and practice. They display regional and ethnic affiliations and vernacular belief structures, and aid with the transmission of culturally important messages or virtues. In some cases, names are carefully safeguarded under strict taboo, and in some cases, names shape the bearer directly. As a form of representative communication, names come highly primed with meaning and utility in folk contexts.
Cory Thomas Hutcheson
See also Bloody Mary or I Believe in Mary Worth; Brer Rabbit; Founding Myths; Game Songs and Rhymes; John the Conqueror (High John the Conqueror); Ocean-Born Mary; Salem Witch Trials; Wendigo
Further Reading
Ancelet, Barry Jean. 1994. Cajun and Creole Folktales: The French Oral Tradition of South Louisiana. New York: Garland.
Barden, Thomas E., ed. 1991. Virginia Folk Legends. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia.
Botkin, Benjamin, ed. 1947. A Treasury of New England Folklore. New York: Crown.
Botkin, Benjamin, and Carl Sandburg. 1944. A Treasury of American Folktales. New York: Crown.
Dorson, Richard M. 1964. Buying the Wind: Regional Folklore in the United States. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Gainer, Patrick W. 2008. Witches, Ghosts, & Signs: Folklore of the Southern Appalachians. Morgantown, WV: Vandalia Press.
Herrera-Sobek, María. 2006. Chicano Folklore: A Handbook. Greenwood Folklore Handbooks. London: Greenwood Press.
Saucier, Corinne L.1962. Folk Tales from French Louisiana. New York: Exposition Press.
West, John O. 1989. Mexican-American Folklore. Little Rock, AR: August House.