Exotic Anglo-Saxon names - a gift that is turning out to be more than irritating
"Oooo-aard! Ooooo-aaaaaarrrd! Ooooo-aaaaaarrrrd!" bellows a man in his late teens at the Asterix theme park in Paris.
Howard, a tattooed man with a nose stud, finally hears the shout. He turns to wave to his to pal just before he boards the ride for the water splash.
Oooo-aard is just
one of 400,000 young French people growing up with an "American" forename, a gift that for some is turning out to be an irritation or even a curse.
Inspired by US supermodels and TV serials, tens of thousands of parents in the 1980s and 1990s named their child Cindy, Brandon, Jennifer, Bruce, Steven, Kevin, Samantha, Kelly, Sandy and other names which are common in "Anglo-Saxon" countries but exotic-sounding in French.
If the idea was to make the child stand out as Californian and chic, the outcome has often turned out to be cruelly different. Today, to have an American first name in France is often considered cheesy or laughable.
Worse, to many, it's an instant telltale of being a "beauf," the shorthand word for "beau-frere," or brother-in-law. In French folklore, brothers-in-law are stereotyped as crass, racist and borderline criminal, live in rundown apartment blocks and nurture a fondness for 4WD cars. The female equivalent has a perma-tan and bling jewellery and is glued to her mobile phone.
"On my housing estate, there's a totally crap family with terrific first names," says Marianna, a woman in her thirties. "The dad's called Johnny and the kids are called Bryan, Jordan, Dylan and Kimberley, and they're all social cases."
Le Parisien daily reported last week that one in 10 of people who apply to legally change their names have American forenames, the result of stigma in schools and job market.
Nicolas Gueguen, a professor of behavioural science at the University of Southern Britanny, recounts that in 2002 he carried out a study among primary school teachers.
He put forward two test papers answered by 9- and 10-year-olds. The two papers were identical except for the names: "Kevin" got on average a 10 per cent lower mark than "Pierre".
The vogue for American names has popped as fast as it came. In 2009, only 500 babies were named Kevin, compared with 15,000 in 1991.
Old-fashioned names dominated last year, headed by Lucas, Enzo, Nathan and Mathis for boys and Emma, Lea, Clara and Chloe for girls, according to Stephanie Rapoport, author of an annual survey of the most popular names.
She also noted a sharply rising trend for composite names, such as Maxendre (combining Maxime and Alexandre) and Evael, which joins Eva and Mael, an old Breton name. But, one wonders, what will these children think of their names 20 years from now?
