Naming and Information

 On Tuesday, we discussed at length the role that names and naming play in our immersion in a piece of media. More specifically, the relationship between two very different viewpoints-

​One, that every person, place, and thing possesses a true name that holds power with it. Name a thing, and you can control it. There are a few issues with this point of view, though it can work if done properly. It presupposes the existence of some primordial language- or languages- that the true names are spoken in. This fundamentally changes the role of language, from something that humans use as subcreators and masters of their world, to something inhuman which is simply harnessed by humans. Language as an inhuman phenomenon raises some questions, given that we rarely see things other than humans use language. It can still work, however, depending on how ancient you want the world to be. 

​On the other hand, there is a viewpoint that names are just arbitrary sounds, thrown together by humans to reflect something. I do not think Tolkien would appreciate this viewpoint either. Within his works, there are numerous examples of language and names holding special power over someone or something. The Black Speech of Mordor, for example, so corrupted the Mouth of Sauron that his mouth was physically disgusting, as well as the words which came from it. Clearly, we can see that names do hold some power- but not purely in their status as names, but rather the power deriving from something the name is attached to. 

​Within Tolkien’s work, names are used to reflect the relationship between a linguistic group which speaks a language and the thing they are naming. Often times when a name is uttered, it has a specific meaning in mind that it is being used to evoke. This is often historical, but can refer to great feats and aspects of that thing as well. Gandalf’s list of names given in Book IV Chapter V is a great example of this. When Frodo and Sam meet Faramir and they discuss Gandalf, Faramir calls Gandalf by the name Mithrandir, which Frodo is taken aback by, having only ever personally called him by one name. Faramir replies: 

‘Mithrandir we called him in elf-fashion,’ said Faramir, ‘and he was content. Many are my names in many countries, he said. Mithrandir among the Elves, Tharkûn to the Dwarves; Olórin I was in my youth in the West that is forgotten, in the South Incánus, in the North Gandalf; to the East I go not.’

​This type of “direct” worldbuilding allows us to analyze these names and what they mean for the people who call him by these names. 

The name Mithrandir is rather straightforward, being of Elvish origin. It is comprised of Mith, meaning “grey”, and Randir, meaning “wanderer”. 

Tharkûn, then, is extremely unclear in specific etymology. As it comes from the Dwarvish language, who famously keep their language a secret to outsiders, we know nothing of its morphology other than that it has the meaning of Grey-man. 

Olórin has a meaning associated with dreams or the mind, denoting his demeanor and expertise.

Incánus, then, has a slightly less clear origin, given that he is called that in the South, which generally has less information available due to its less civilized nature. It is suggested, however, that it comes from the words of the Haradrim Inkā-nūs, meaning North Spy. This shows both the close-minded nature of the people of the South as well as the general infrequency with which he visits.

Gandalf, then, means “Staff-Elf” and is so named from Old Norse. As a result, it does not have any strictly in-universe etymology given, but rather the people of the North have given him a name which happens to match the etymology of the “real world”. This one is of particular interest to me. Not only because it is the primary name people know him by, but that in-universe, we have spottier information than even the name from the South. Knowing how Tolkien essentially localized the text of the Lord of the Rings rather than presenting names exactly as they would appear, it is possible that “Gandalf”, too, is a localized name.

All of these names are two-way mirrors into both the conception of Gandalf by these people groups as well as what we can learn about the people groups from the names. The extremely plain names of the Elves and Dwarves, for example, speak to the frequency with which Gandalf would appear to them, and how he generally fit in to some extent. Likewise, from the outside looking in, it tells us how to perceive the Elves and Dwarves somewhat. Given that we are intended to view the Elves and Dwarves as distinctly “not like us” in some respect, the fact that they would have a plain name for a wizard places him and them firmly in the same world of our conception. 

The name Olórin, then, betrays Gandalf’s origin as a maia. Not only is it definitively more ethereal in feel, but it has a distinct name that does not simply characterize him as being “like a man” in some way. Thus, the name places the people who named him as being more like him in some respect.

The fundamental difference between names like these, which place both the named and namers firmly within a “built world” and names which we use in ours is a clear origin. There is a tendency in fantasy for names to have clear etymologies, while in our language, they typically do not. It is possible that someone knew the etymologies of names we use at some point, but most have been lost. There is a clear break in our world between names with clear origins and those without. “Germany”, for example, is first attested as the name of a people living around the Rhine in the first century B.C.. It cannot be placed further back than that, already existing as a name. Of course, there are other names we do know the origins of. America, for instance, coming from the name Amerigo Vespucci, who was an early explorer of the New World. 

This is a trade-off faced by everyone who goes to build a world, in the sense Tolkien would be satisfied with- between explanation and believability, between known facts and mystery. Every author must solve this problem in a way that is suited for their world.

Of course Tolkien, as a philologist, would find it incredibly unsatisfying to simply leave etymologies unknown- where’s the fun in that? Instead, he leaves massive chunks of his geography as proverbial question marks on his map. Other authors handle this differently. In total, though, it is just interesting to see this conundrum of worldbuilding come up upon the analysis of names, given its omnipresence in works such as this.

-BTS