Names: and Their Meaning; A Book for the Curious — A Reader’s Guide

From Surnames to Silk: The Range of Naming

The excerpts reveal a book that roams widely across categories of names. Wagner treats personal surnames, sobriquets, and pseudonyms alongside place names and even the names of manufactured goods. In the section on lace, for instance, he explains that Valenciennes is named after the French town where it is made, while Colbertine honors M. Colbert, superintendent of Louis XIV's lace factories. He also notes that lace itself derives from the Latin laques, 'a noose or snare.' This blend of geography, history, and linguistics is typical: Wagner moves from the etymology of a word to the story behind its application, often in a single paragraph. Readers should expect similar leaps between domains—from biblical names to trade goods—without a single unifying argument beyond the fact that all are names.

Pseudonyms as Puzzles and Personal History

Wagner devotes considerable space to literary pseudonyms, treating them as deliberate constructions rather than random choices. He explains that Voltaire's name is an anagram of 'Arovet L.I.' (for le jeune), and that 'Barry Cornwall' is an imperfect anagram of Bryan Waller Procter. He recounts how Charles Lamb, signing his first essay for the London Magazine, whimsically borrowed the name of a 'gay, light-hearted foreigner' he remembered from the South Sea House—thus becoming Elia. Dickens's 'Boz' originated from a childhood mispronunciation of 'Moses' (from The Vicar of Wakefield), and Ouida from an infantile version of Louise. These anecdotes do more than entertain; they illustrate Wagner's method of tracing a name back to a specific, often trivial, personal moment. The cumulative effect is to show that even famous pseudonyms are contingent, accidental, and deeply human.

The Author's Voice: Self-Deprecating and Earnest

Wagner's prose is marked by a careful balance of modesty and enthusiasm. He admits his chosen title is 'far from satisfactory' and blames 'the poverty of the English language' for any lack of clarity. He describes philology as 'the most seductive' of sciences and etymology as possessing 'a fascination for all, when once the attention has been arrested by it.' This is not the language of a dry academic but of a popularizer who wants to share his own delight. At the same time, he is precise about his scope: he will not examine dictionary words, because 'several excellent works already exist on this subject.' Instead, he focuses exclusively on names. Readers should note that Wagner's voice is both humble and confident—he knows his material but never lectures. This tone makes the book feel like a guided tour by a knowledgeable, slightly self-deprecating companion.

What the Excerpts Leave Unsaid

The provided excerpts cover only the introduction, the section on lace, and part of the pseudonyms chapter. They do not show Wagner's treatment of place names, surnames, or class names, all of which are promised in the introduction. The book's full structure remains unclear: does it proceed systematically by category, or does it meander? The excerpts suggest a preference for anecdote over taxonomy, but without the middle chapters, one cannot be sure. Readers should approach the work as a collection of discrete entries rather than a continuous narrative. Wagner's claim that the book is 'for the curious' is borne out by the excerpts' variety, but the absence of a table of contents in the sample means the reader must discover the organization by browsing. The work is best used as a reference to dip into, not a treatise to read straight through.

Wagner's Names: and Their Meaning rewards the reader who treats it as a cabinet of curiosities rather than a systematic encyclopedia. The excerpts show a writer who values a good story over exhaustive coverage, and who trusts his audience to share his fascination with the accidental origins of the words we use every day. To get the most from this book, read it in short sessions, following whatever thread catches your interest—whether that be the lace of Valenciennes or the pseudonym of Voltaire. The index, if present, will be your best guide.

Wagner’s little book never pretends to know all the answers—it merely traces the quiet threads of meaning through names, leaving gaps for the curious to fill. That same patient humility marks the Scott, Greenwood Catalogue of Special Technical Works, January 1905 — Edition Insights, a tradesman’s record of useful knowledge, offered plainly, content to be consulted rather than adored. Both sit comfortably beside me, whispering of a world where knowing a little, fondly, was enough.