Pity the fool with a nonsense name
‘If there is one thing I dislike,’ said P.G. Wodehouse, ‘it is the man who tries to air his grievances when I wish to air mine.’ His grievance was conversational, mine is nominative: I pity those with made-up names. There was a time when names came from a modest catalogue: the Bible, aunts and uncles of fond memory, a wider culture that worshipped the royals. Maturity involves a conservative deference to tradition. One learns to presume that norms have more value than drawbacks: dress in an ordinary style, have the manners people expect – and bear a name that connects you to others. Beware any job that requires new clothes,
