What’s in a name

Humm the reader and scholar as Dr Frankenstein!? I quite like that, I am sure we have created a few monsters too over the years. We Humans love to make meaning don’t we? I think that’s partly why we enjoy literature to be honest, we get pleasure from the meaning making it invites us to do. ^liz

Perhaps even more interesting, though on an altogether different note, is the way in which the name Shakespeare alters our sense of what a playtext ought to contain: namely, beautiful poetry. The Juliet passage invoked above by Liz provides a case in point. None of the extant copies of Romeo and Juliet actually contain the version of the speech that has become familiar to modern audiences:

‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What’s Montague? It is nor hand nor foot,
Nor arm nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O be some other name!
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.

(Act 2, scene 1, 79-92)

This is, of course, the iconic version of this speech, more recognizable as the work of Shakespeare than perhaps any other passage in the plays. (Here, I’ve lifted the passage from Jill Levenson’s Oxford edition of the play.) But are these lines really the product of Shakespeare’s hand? For the sake of comparison, here are the Q1, Q2, and F1 versions of this speech. Q1 reads,

Tis but thy name that is mine enemie.
Whats Mountague? It is nor hand nor foote,
Nor arme, nor face, nor any other part.
Whats in a name? That which we call a Rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet:
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo cald,
Retaine the diuine perfection he owes:
Without that title Romeo part thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee,
Take all I haue.

And Q2,

Tis but thy name that is my enemie:
Thou art thy selfe, though not a Mountague,
Whats Mountague? it is nor hand nor foote,
Nor arme nor face, o be some other name
Belonging to a man.
Whats in a name that which we call a rose,
By any other word would smell as sweete,
So Romeo would wene he not Romeo cald,
Retaine that deare perfection which he owes,
Without that tytle, Romeo doffe thy name,
And for thy name which is no part of thee,
Take all my selfe.

And, finally, F1,

‘Tis but thy name that is my Enemy:
Thou art thy selfe, though not a Mountague,
What’s Mountague? it is nor hand nor foote,
Nor arme, nor face, O be some other name
Belonging to a man.
What? in a names that which we call a Rose,
By any other word would smell as sweete,
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo cal’d,
Retaine that deare perfection which he owes,
Without that title Romeo, doffe thy name,
And for thy name which is not part of thee,
Take all my selfe.

Notably, it is only by combining the various instantiations of this passage that editors achieve the balance and symmetry that has become associated with Shakespeare’s verse. Ironically, this means that Shakespeare actually had very little to do with Juliet’s famous lines. Perhaps, then, we would be better off, as teachers and students of the Bard, underlining the collaborative nature of the theatre and of theatre studies and allowing the liveliness of performance (both textual and physical) to eclipse the notion of authorial intention as the locus of meaning? That is, perhaps Shakespeare’s name ought to carry less clout?

Yes I know two replies is a bit OTT but I got thinking about what you wrote about Wittgenstein saying “The limits of my language means the limits of my world”. This is something I am going to discuss in relation to The Tempest in next week’s blog. As I understand this quotation (Which I may misunderstand out of context) I am not sure I quite agree that if we cannot name or articulate something we cannot do it or feel it or experience it… but I will enjoy thinking about the conundrum. ^liz

There is another line from that play about man being author of himself which is a slightly similar idea. I have often thought in relation to this that the way we think about ourselves has a lot to do with the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves.

I never thought about the power of creating user names but it’s true indeed lots of people create quite unique personalities for themselves on line often giving that self a new name.

Finally I’d like to thank my mother and father for the conformist and ordinary ‘Elizabeth’ they gave me. ^liz

I suppose Andrew, that the distinction is between what Shakespeare has Juliet think and what we assume Shakespeare thought. We may consider Juliet’s assumption that names can be easily changed, naive – as you say, in the play she cannot simply have Romeo ‘doff his name’ and become an acceptable and accepted partner for her. But the fact that names are theoretically arbitrary does not mean they are in practice. I think Juliet misses an essential difference between a rose and a person. ^liz

“in Romeo And Juliet Shakespeare suggests that names are theoretically arbitrary”

Hmm… not sure about that. He gives the speech to a 13 year old girl but doesn’t the action of the play demonstrate that she is wrong and that names do matter? As Wittgenstein said “The limits of my language means the limits of my world”; I don’t know the Brian Friel play but I think Shakespeare would agree with him that the knowable world is the nameable world so if you rename it you redefine it.

This is fascinating stuff. You can also relate this to characters who deliberately change name in order to have ownership over a disguise, the obvious examples being Aliena, Rosalind and Cesario.

Although Hamlet isn’t renamed, he does object to being relabelled as Claudius’ son.

Puck has more than one name: he’s also known as Robin Goodfellow because he’s a somewhat shady character.

Perdita has a very apt name that somehow defines her character. At least until she’s found!