“Feminist,” Slander, and the Art of Inventing Names
Ah, English. The beautiful disaster that happens when you throw several European languages in a blender, sprinkle in classism for flavor, then serve it with the cold side dish of pop-culture idioms. Then along came the word “feminist” and the massive glory of the internet.
The part where I rant
“Feminist” is a terrible word. By all accounts, I’m either a feminist, a male feminist, could never be a feminist, a humanist, or an idiot. It depends who you ask. I personally consider myself part of whatever movement there is to make the female occupation stereotypes equally respectable as the male occupation stereotypes, so dad isn’t considered an inferior human being for staying home to take care of the kids, mom isn’t considered an exotic b*tch for being the CEO of a software company, and people aren’t posting modernized quotes of the Malleus Maleficarum on their Bible Study blogs.
And that’s why it’s a terrible word. What does it really mean? Why do so many people feel obligated to write articles like this trying to explain “feminism” to people who are trying to explain feminism? Why does an ideology, named after a gendered-root often used en-mass to denote grace and beauty, demand gender neutral language in a fight for recognition as strength and independence? Is that supposed to be the irony?
Feminist has become so ambiguous of meaning, so subjected to claims of “this it what it really means,” so subjective to the speaker, that it has warped into a word of white noise symbolic of the uncertain chaos mentioning it in a conversation can breed.
I respect that language evolution is lazy because thinking is hard. And I don’t expect “feminist” to magically flutter off and be replaced with something referencing documented fundamentals, like “Malalaian,” because, for one, that’s far too many a’s for one word. But, by the same standards, language comprehension is also lazy. And if you ever engage in the process of communication [1], you’re probably aware how hard it is to be understood.
English can be easy. But it’s in the continual process of compensating for its flaws. The result is a slew grammar/spelling exceptions and the largest vocabulary pool in the modern world because of how very specific and precise English words are. Even native born speakers rarely master its scope, so the best we can do is make assumptions as to new words based on what words we already know [2].
Here’s the thing: Most people don’t communicate with ill intent of the listener. What if you have to put in “effort” (UGH!) to get these uneducated buffoons to understand you [3]? It’s far easier to slander the inferiors in a group of like-minded individuals than it is to confront said pond scum head on. Because there is someone who will listen. Someone who understands. There is kinship. There is a relationship. Ain’t that adorable? People *want* to be understood.
However, the listener is a person too (*le gasp*) and knowing how their concept of language works is essential. Why? Because (besides those who prefer to hear themselves parroted) people *want* to understand. And at the end of the day, if they can’t, the listener maintains the power of walking away from anyone who considers pterodactyl screeching an effective form of communication.
Most people you surround yourself with understand the connotation behind your word choices — or have the patience to interpret your BS into something more positive — because they’re often the ones feeding you the context. But step outside the bubble of the forgiving, most don’t. Calling them uneducated or stupid won’t change the fact they still don’t understand you and in their eyes, you’re the one making a fool of yourself. So use what you know they know to guide them to what you want them to know.
That’s why language exists.
The part where I try to be helpful, and still rant
If you’re a writer, entrepreneur, world builder, linguist, lawyer, or dabbled in any conlang, you’re probably more than familiar with how words influence the readers concept of a [name]. Whether this is word shape, sound, frequency, conjugation, context, formality, etc. you will make assumptions of the words you use, your readers will make assumptions of words you use, your fellow writers will silently judge you, and everyone else will make bad jokes of your shortcomings. Sad!
(Pro-tip: get Beta readers)
So how do you name a character? How do you name an ideology? How do you name a brand? How do you create a label for any [name] where it’s purpose is clear, yet catchy, doesn’t warp into subjective principles, doesn’t promote antagonism of target parties, doesn’t require your reader to pause in their reading, and is — most importantly — memorable?
Well, you think about it.
>> Cue the anxiety of finding the right name for that crime organization. Oh man, oh man —this will keep you up at night. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a writer. Maybe this is were your dreams end. Maybe you’re not a real feminist for saying “oh man” and should say “oh god” instead, but if you’re religious, that’s blasphemy and “god” wasn’t even capitalized, and if you’re an atheist, they wouldn’t call out to god, right? No, you’re getting side tracked! Focus! Focus! What is a good name for that organization…?
Slam on the breaks there! [4]
Your goal is to patch up your naming conventions to be “English.” Every language has basic construction patterns, rules, grammar, and idioms. Your target audience (which, I assume you know, right? ಠ_ಠ) can twist these up even more.
Here are some basic guidelines to consider:
1. The sound
Say it out loud. Say it in random accents. Say it over caffeinated. Say it half asleep. Say it drunk. Say it as a two year old. Say it as a parrot. Say it in every possible combination of saying it. Most importantly, say it in the most derogatory, spiteful manner you can twist your lips. Everyone who hates [name] will henceforth say it that way. If no one hates [name], you either got a Mary Sue or a [name] who’s done nothing with their minuscule existence.
Take any word with “ — ist” in it, especially as a suffix. How painfully easy it is to warp that into a slur? Add a little emphasis, and you have the whole “hiss-hiss” thing going on.
Feminist, Sexist, communist, creationist, fascist, minimalist, naturalist, racist, rapist, nihilist, terrorist, artist, and far too many others to name. So sinister. I know a man who can’t say “Ist”lam without sounding like he’s auditioning for the role of Nagini in Harry Potter. Christian is normally pronounced Chr-“ish”-jin, but the menacing alternative Chr-“ist”-ian is equally correct. Religious videos bashing “The Athiest” are basically the-bee-movie-but-with-snakes of drinking games. We haven’t even made these plural yet.
Obviously, you want a name to sound cool. But you want your name to sound like what it is without being conflated with what it is not. If a name is intended evil, an easily slurred name isn’t so bad, perhaps preferable. If [name] is intended to be positive, then make spite inconvenient. Force opposing parties to make up or use a different word.
Take “gay,” for example. It’s used as an insult, but harder to sell as a negative-sounding word, which is probably why it originally meant “happy” and still denotes flamboyant behavior. “F*ggot” is superior in cursing quality. Likewise, words can be invented or chopped and warped to make new words: Liberals became “libtards,” Spanish-black became “N*ggers,” and the 4-syllable mouthful of “Homosexuals” becomes “homos.” The actual [name], however, remains intact.
Pick your Whiner’s poison.
2. Root-word/Origin
English has Anglo-Saxon/Germanic grammar base and root words with a large pool of Norman French, Greek, and Latin vocabulary roots. Some Celtic is in there as well, along with the imported words of British Imperialism.
Take the word “thug,” for instance — an imported word. In the 1830s and British controlled India, Thugs were a group of organized robbers and murders whose modus operandi was joining and gaining the trust of travelers, then pouncing on them best location in the journey. Their name comes from the Hindi word ठग (ṭhag) which means “deceivers” and they were well respected in the criminal world of the underclass. This word has generalized over time to mean any underclass criminal, particularly those prone to violence.
As language passes through time, idioms come and go, word popularity spikes then fades, accents evolve, but vocabulary roots always remain the same. You’re going to get a lot of wrinkled foreheads — and sound like an idiot — if you give the core of English the middle finger by trying to redefine it.
Example: The word “Atheist.” Atheist is comprised of the prefix “a —” (without) and “theist” (belief in any deity). It’s comparative terms are “Monotheist” (belief in one deity), “Ditheist” (belief in two deities), “Polytheist” (belief in many deities), “Autotheist” (belief you’re the deity), “Pantheist” (everything’s the deity), “Antitheist” (against people believing in deities), “Maltheist” (belief whatever deities exist are evil), etc.
These are all great words. And yet “atheist” has often been a target of redefinition by some theists. Namely that an atheist: a) actually believes in a deity, b) believes in the theist’s deity/deties, but c) is a maltheist, d) is an antitheist, e) is an anarchists, and f) supports genocide [5]. And if (a) doesn’t apply, causing (b-f) to fall apart, then the atheist must have never been informed a given deity exists. However, this redefinition backlashes against the theist by informing the atheist they lack a basic concept of English and the communication channel shuts down.
But that brings up another point: “Atheist” has been bastardized. A lot. In fact, I’ve probably disgusted some of my readers for reminding them atheists exists. Why? Because smear campaigns work — which is why I made a point of slander-buffing your [name] above. If [name] loses its respectable-ness in any form, getting anyone to take [name] seriously and/or without default negative connotation is akin to clawing your way back from Hell. You need a slice of eternity to do it.
However, atheist is hardy word. It’s meaning hasn’t changed because it is what it means and to change its meaning is to argue with a thousand years of words. Smear campaigns against any name start to fall apart when the campaign’s premise of a name relies on imaginary definitions. At the end of the day, it reflects poorly on people who try.
Words like feminist, not so much. The root words don’t quite match the dictionary definition, allowing ample room for redefinition. Perhaps the more gendered-word bias ones being: all women *must* be a feminist (because they are women), and men can’t be a feminist (because they are a men). English literature’s history of depicting women and effeminate men as inferiors also lumps it into the same “shrug off by the patriarchy” it’s trying to fight against. Is this stupid? Yes. But asylum guards don’t have to listen to the complaints of the inmates.
>> Counterpoint: One slur of feminist is feminazi. However, these have different roots (ie: “feminine + ist” vs. “feminine + nazi”), thus they reflect different ideologies. At a bare minimum, a feminazi can never be more than a subcategory of feminist (ie: some fascists are Nazis, but not all fascists are nazis), thus it’s a poor means of slander and places “feminist” in a more respectable light. Subgroups are not a feature of English as much as basic logic. That’s even harder to argue with.
Words like thug are more interesting. And no, the denouncement has little to do with Thugs being criminals. Thugs were a (loose) mesh between conartists and highwaymen — equally terrible things. However, the latter words are “English” and not victims of imported colonial classism, so they’re easier to romanticize as “rich people criminals” while thug got smashed down into “poor people criminals.” The flip-side example is that many English words with French and Latin roots often seem superior than Germanic roots because Normans were once the ruling aristocracy, Latin was the language of the educated, and Germanic words were for peasants[6].
So, if you do use root words in your name make sure they’re working in your favor. The more concrete the meaning, the more “English,” the better.
Unless of course, you want to pull xenophobic strings. “Obama,” for example, isn’t an “English” name. It’s either a Luo (Kenyan ethnic group) or Japanese surname. However, add in Arabic forenames, a history with a terrorist named “Osama,” and general spite, name derivatives like “Obamacare” are far too scandalous for comfort.
Okay, we’ve had enough of psychology of scary bad words. Onto readership.
3. The spelling
There is the passive “rule” of naming characters where you want to avoid names that start with the same letter because it makes it harder to tell them apart (eg: Mark and Mitch). Heaven forbid you trod the unclean ground of 3+ (eg: Mark and Martin). Gender differences (eg: Mark and May) and different language names (eg: Marcus and Mariko) stretches this “rule,” so you can probably get away with it.
But here we have comparative/context names. Even on their own, however, spelling is still important.
No, names like Humuhumunukunukuapua’a or Xzzf’prr’lugh aren’t clever, or readable, or anything a reader will remember as anything but “that word.” One is Hawaiian for Hawaii’s state fish and the other is pronounced “The cat walked across my keyboard.”
Yes, a word can look exotic or use foreign names, but not everyone will arrive at the same conclusion of pronunciation. They will use what words they do know — similar to comparative/context names above and patterns they recognize — to read the word you have given and not gloss over as white noise. And even above, Hawaii is an Anglicized version of the more accurate: Həvai’i. English doesn’t have exact spelling for Hawaiian sounds.
How about an embarrassing example?
Once upon a time, I named something Wriget. It’s an organization app for writers currently on hiatus until I finally publish the parasite [7]. Wriget is a spoof off “writing” + “gadgets” and is intended to be pronounced Rai-jet. I did consider other spellings, however, they all had their shortcomings. Wridget is too close to widget. Wrigget and Wrigit are basically Riggot, which is far too wrong. Wryget doesn’t look like English. Wrighet is…desperate. So I willy-nilly went with Wriget. Most people who see it pronounce it Wridget, because I forgot to account for words like frigid and privet are valid near-rhymes. So it makes a nice conversation starter instead. #fightme
Likewise, there is a lesser known rule of basic human psychology: the ability to identify visual quantity without thinking crumbles around 4. You can read Malala, but chances are you went cross-eyed and tripped your tongue when you read “Malalaian.” If a name doesn’t have a history or root word in English to single out (example: Alexandrian, Constantinople), a word with 4+ syllables might due better at two words or include a hyphen somewhere. Even longer English words though, you recognize not because you see all the letters, but because the word is rare and you recognize something else.
Which brings us to:
4. The shape
Once upon a time, I also decided to give all the 100+ characters in my story one-syllable names. Why? Because I could. (ง •̀ω•́)ง✧
^^(Don’t do that. Don’t ever do that.)
Unless you’re designing a logo, studying calligraphy, or dabbled in the art of speed reading, you probably haven’t given much thought to the “shape” of a word. It has some similarities to spelling, like how length and letter choices are relevant, but its not the same thing.
The basics idea is this:
[mountain, plain, valley]*length = word shape
But of course a picture would do better here:
Some names are more mountain-like than others, like California and William. Some names are more valley-like, such as Egypt and Maggie. Some names are exclusively plain-like, such as France and Summer. Most words are a mesh between them, and you end with blobs, like Wright and Bridget.
Whether or not you factor the first letter into the “shape” of your [name] is a personal preference as — assuming you go with proper noun capitalization — every capital letter would end up a mountain. I’m personally more inclined to ignore first letters unless the word is short. Ditto with last or near-last letters. The idea here is how the word is as a whole.
How does this help with anything? Well, this one relies heavier on context the name is in.
Consider the previous generic advice of “don’t give your characters names that start with the same letter.” Marcus and Mason are both plains, thus harder to tell apart than the alternative: Mark (mountain/shorter) and Mayson (valley/longer). Some names, such as Leo (plain) and Lotus (mountain), you may even want to have first letters being the same for plot reasons.
Any name can likewise have its spelling tweaked to make it more easily distinguishable from its surroundings — so long as its readable, of course.
English has very specific letter sequences which contribute to word shape. Recognizing these as default like this makes reading far easier and faster because you don’t have to individually see each letter. For example, usually g’s are the letters causing blobs in the middle of words, so “wriget” looks far less English than “wright,” despite one letter difference. Likewise, “patytern” (blob) makes your eyes crossed, while “patitern” (mountain) fairs far better as it shares the shape of the very English “pattern” (mountain). Both, however, would be pronounced the same.
In Conclusion…
I enjoy words and languages. Really. I make them up all the time and dabble in German and Japanese puns. So I’m not saying “learn English and keep it that way” in any sense of superiority. English is still a monstrosity, I’m still getting the hang of it myself, and if you do want to use foreign/invented words, feel free. But do so with care. English is a language that builds on itself. If you are writing English, it’s also the language your readers will instinctively understand instead of dismissing it as something “exotic.” The same applies to any language you choose to write in.
Words shape how we think. The stories we tell with them build the concepts behind those words, what makes them unique, what makes them the words they are. And at the end of the day, we’re all primitive idiots — cautious and wary of things we don’t understand, while clinging to and forgiving of that which we consider our own in the few milliseconds of a simple glance. Use it to your advantage.
[1] This is where you have thoughts and experiences you want to give to someone who doesn’t have them, so you make a series of complex sounds, movements, and/or visual representations in hopes they might have the same thoughts and experiences as you.
[2] A simple story:
Alice: Are you a feminist?
Bob’s brain: feminist => “feminine” (female, women) + “ — ist” (the practice of an ideology) => I am not a woman?
Bob: No.
Alice: But don’t you support women’s rights?
^^ This is also where appending “male” to “male feminists” comes from. If a word is understood to be gendered, like nurse (“female”) or engineer (“male”), it’s natural to want to append gendered negators/an exception clarification to counter the stereotype. Yes, a male nurse is a nurse. A female engineer is an engineer. But it’s not obvious enough, English is a cat-in-the-door of gendered languages, and that’s a whole other rant.
This, unfortunately, is also where “men can’t be feminists,” female anatomical pride, and misandry bait mentality spawns. People *do* have gender identities. They will categorize each other and themselves accordingly and, per standard of social creatures, most back away when they assume they don’t belong.
[3] The exception: If you sabotage communication attempts of a party to establish you have no desire to share/understand their experiences. This is not a sustainable relationship, which is why it’s very effect at making people “go away” (extreme cases, commit suicide — but who cares, right?).
[4] For clarification sake:
No, you don’t have to ensure everyone on planet English magically concludes your choice of semantics. You’re going to confuse some people. You’re going to offend some people. You’re going to have people pronounce it wrong. You’re going to having language perversion over time. You’re going to have Jim Carrey tally up the letters of your name choices into 23. You’re going to have high school students in English class writing analytical essays about how you naming one organization “Lily” and another “Leo” makes your story a metaphor for the struggle against the patriarchy even though you meant one sells drugs and the other poaches shape shifting cats (ie: “The Art of BS: A Memoir of High School, and Life After”).
The problem occurs when you have to challenge en-mass because your word wasn’t clear of begin with.
[5] Based off Christian books and movie’s depictions of atheists I grew up around. Obviously, this is subjective and the only group with a monopoly of jerks are “jerks.” That’s why we have a word for it. #everyoneidontlikeishitler
[6] Fun fact: This is also why English names for meat are different than names for the animal — and often why English has two words for a lot of things. Peasants lived with animals. Rich people ate them. Peasants rarely saw meat. Rich people rarely saw where it came from.
[7] “Blood Mark: The Liar,” available sometime 2017.
