Last name

   In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, a man’s last name was probably the term by which he was most often addressed. Such usage has largely given way in modern times to use of his first name. It was always much rarer for a woman to be addressed by her last name, but it could happen. In Barnaby Rudge, by Charles Dickens, Miss Miggs is domestic servant to the Vardens before she becomes female turnkey at the Bridewell. While still a servant Dickens says of her: ‘Miss Miggs: or as she was called, in conformity with those prejudices of Society which lop and top from poor handmaidens all such genteel excrescences - Miggs.’ Servants of an even lower rank were addressed by their first names, or by suitable replacements for their first names if their own were considered to be too fanciful. This situation changed as the twentieth century wore on, In Memento Mori, by Muriel Spark, occurs: ‘“Did you have a nice evening at the pictures, Taylor?” said Charmian. “I am not Taylor,” said Dame Lettie, “and in any case, you always called Taylor ‘Jean’ during her last twenty or so years in your service.”’ In Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë says of Lowood Institution: ‘the girls here were all called by their surnames, as boys are elsewhere.’ This vocative usage emphasized the unsentimental atmosphere that prevailed there.

   In certain professional situations, however, women might choose to adopt the same vocative habit as their male colleagues. Thus in Tennessee Williams’s Eight Mortal Ladies Possessed we have: ‘I’ve heard nothing but Home out of you for ten years running. Doesn’t this Home have a Christian name to be called by you? What’s it mean? I don’t know what to imagine.’ ‘Oh, mama, there’s nothing for you to imagine,’ said Elphinstone. ‘We are two unmarried professional women and unmarried professional women address each other by surnames. It’s a professional woman’s practice in Manhattan, that’s all there is to it, mama.’

   Professional use to a woman is also found in Dover One, by Joyce Porter. where a woman policesergeant addresses a woman police constable by her last name. Nurse is a Neighbour, by Joanna Jones, has the central character using her last name to herself in an inner dialogue, while The Taste of Too Much, by Clifford Hanley, has a young man who adopts a tough attitude generally to his girlfriend addressing her as ‘Jackson’ instead of Alice.

   Women sometimes use a man’s last name when addressing him. In George Eliot’s Adam Bede a wife does so to her husband, as does a wife in Edna Ferber’s Showboat Another wife who does this to her husband is in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, by Anthony Powell, but this couple have a curious relationship that ends in a separation by the end of the novel. Unconditional Surrender, by Evelyn Waugh, has a titled lady addressing the owner of a restaurant by his last name. Waugh comments that ‘there was also an odd dilution of odd-looking men who called the proprietor “Mr Ruben”…’

   These are clearly social upstarts who are not familiar with correct vocative usage. The Liberty Man, by Gillian Free-man, has a headmistress addressing an expupil by his last name, but this would be strange in modern times. The ex-pupil today would expect his first name to be used, even if the teacher was obliged to be reminded of it. The Jewel in the Crown, by Paul Scott, has a woman who is careful to call the soldiers she invites to her home for tea ‘Mr’ + last name, since ‘she knew that private soldiers hated to be called by their surnames alone if the person talking to them was a woman’. This remark would still hold true, but a woman today in a similar situation would probably use first names rather than the formal ‘mister’. At a time when long-standing male friends called one another by their last names, the wives of such friends usually went to the more polite ‘Mr’ form. There is some evidence, in novels such as The Limits of Love, by Frederic Raphael and Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, mentioned above, that if the men concerned were in the artistic world, painters, writers, musicians, then the wives might address their husbands’ friends by last name only. On the change from last name to first name usage amongst male equals, see also the quote from The Affair, by C.P.Snow under First name.

   Professional colleagues at one time signalled their membership of the same profession by the use of last names, and were very exact about it. In The Affair, for example, a Cambridge don is the subject of an enquiry. The barristers present address him as ‘Dr Howard’, but we are told that ‘Crawford had been punctilious throughout in calling Howard by his surname alone, as though he were still a colleague.’ As for barristers themselves. Henry Cecil has this in Brothers in Law. ‘“D’you think Mr Grimes would mind?” asked Roger. “Grimes, not Mr Grimes,” said Henry. “I meant to tell you about that before. Once you’re called you call everyone at the Bar by his surname.”’ Such last name usage could be friendly in itself, though friendliness could be emphasized by adding a phrase like ‘my dear fellow’ after the last name.

   Many novels have male pupils being addressed by last name, both by fellow male students and by male teachers. Public school-boys, especially, would at one time have been horrified to hear their first names being used (see also quotes under First name). In The Old Boys, by William Trevor, men who adopted last name usage fifty years previously continue to address one another in that way. In military and quasi-military environments such as the police force, a superior officer, then as now, would usually address a man of lower rank by his last name. Male servants were similarly addressed by their employers. It would have been unthinkable for Bertie Wooster to address his man as anything but Jeeves. Jeeves had probably almost forgotten that his parents, or his creator P.G.Wodehouse at least, actually gave him the first name Reginald.

   But for that matter, how often is Sherlock Holmes addressed as Sherlock in all the stories about his adventures? He and his old friend Dr Watson were always Holmes and Watson to each other, and few casual readers would know that the doctor was named John. At one point, Holmes comments on vocative usage, though not to Watson. In The Mazarin Stone the villainous Count Syvius says to him: ‘Two can play at that game, Holmes.’ ‘It is a small point, Count Syvius,’ says the great man, to whom it is obviously not a small point, ‘but perhaps you would kindly give me my prefix when you address me.’

   In nearly all situations where a strict hierarchy does not exist, and where a boy or man does not formally acknowledge that some men who speak to him are his superiors, the use of a last name on its own tends to be felt as aggressive or insulting. Two men who are beginning to quarrel in The Limits of Love, by Frederic Raphael, say: ‘“You think too much about yourself, Halloran, that’s your trouble.” “Halloran,” Stan said. “Back to that, are we?”’ Lucky Jim, by Kingsley Amis, has: ‘Look here, Dickinson, or whatever your name is,’ Bertrand began. Equally aggressive is the ‘Look here, Starfield’ which begins a speech in Under the Net, by Iris Murdoch. A Kind of Loving, by Stan Barstow, has: ‘You say much more, Lewis, an’ ‘I’ll wrap a bunch o’ fives round your bloody neck.’ Later in the same novel occurs: ‘“How long have you known my daughter?” she says now, like a duchess asking a gardener for his references. I nearly expect her to say “Brown”, but she doesn’t call me by name all evening.’ Room at the Top, by John Braine. has an office boss, who usually addresses his employees by their first names, say: ‘Well, Lampton, we’ll get our money’s worth out of you before you go…’ Braine comments: ‘The tone was supposed to be one of mock severity, but it came out vicious.’ Use of one another’s last names by working-class boys and men, who normally use first names, can either be aggressive or joking. In normal social intercourse, however, last name usage to women is now very rare indeed, while its use amongst males has lessened to a dramatic extent on all sides.

   Telephone enquiries made in the late 1980s to staff common rooms of several English public schools, for instance, reveal that first names are commonly used amongst the students, while staff addressing them are likely to switch to first names as the students progress through the school. Members of the legal profession also use first names in modern times when they meet socially. The general change to first name usage has at least solved the problem of addressing men whose last name happens to be Love, Dear, Darling and the like, though such names may still, no doubt, sometimes be heard being yelled across the parade ground.