Tags
Black Company, Malazan Book of the Fallen, military fantasy, military fiction, military scifi, Monday Blogs, Nick names, Nicknames
When I was a kid, all the cool people at school had nicknames. Most were just shortened versions of their first names: Mike, Steve, Tom, Nick, Liz, etc. I was so jealous. Looking back, I can’t explain what made these humdrum nicknames appealing. Maybe it was the casual nature of a one-syllable name that said: “I’m too cool for my whole name.”
The nicknames I desperately envied hinted at a persona, usually one that oozed toughness or cool out of its hard consonants. I tried to think of one and settled for Spike, like Arthur “Fonzie” Fonzarelli’s teenage cousin. It didn’t occur to me that calling a scrawny, goody two-shoes by a nickname like that was the height of sarcasm. Worse, it was the name of Snoopy’s tumbleweed-riding cousin with the sad hat and droopy mustache. It didn’t matter because nobody agreed to call me Spike. Later I learned that the really cool nicknames, those with meaning and permanence, were those earned and given by others. Some are complementary, and others less desirable than the ordinary moniker.
When I was in college, it didn’t take long for me to earn a nickname: Woody. I was so proud, I would even introduce myself this way. Of course, it was a joke on me that I didn’t understand, and that made it all the more perfect and difficult to shake. Some older guys in my dorm, mostly transfer students mixed in with us freshmen for some reason, nicknamed me after the famous character from the TV show, Cheers, played by Woody Harrelson. My country kid gullibility and naivety made this an easy nickname for them to coin, I’m sure. I had never even seen the show; I just knew it was popular. Woody Harrelson would go on to star in roles as tough guys, but at the time he was famous for playing this ignorant, amiable hayseed. And that’s what I was, I confess.
Nicknames are common in military fiction, and this applies to some of my favorite scifi and fantasy series, too. They are like badges or medals, something coveted by the uninitiated. From a reader’s point of view, the nicknames instantly revealed that these characters had earned a place of respect and importance, even among some of the lowest ranking soldiers. I wanted them to live long enough to earn nicknames, and many of them didn’t. My first exposure to this was in Glen Cook’s Black Company. It was told from the point of view of a mercenary company’s chief medic, Croaker. The nicknames given by the company were replacements for names people left behind when fleeing their pasts. Real names held power, for those with magical abilities, so the nicknames provided security as well. Some included Goblin, Silent, Raven, and Darling. Later I would see the same in Steven Erikson’s Malazan Book of the Fallen, clearly influenced by the former, and many other works in the genre.
What was behind the appeal of nicknames in these favorite fictional worlds? I think they spoke of camaraderie and respect, of shared losses and victories, of belonging. Some were derogatory and darkly humorous. All were worn with pride.
Now I look back on that college nickname and wonder if there was something more than humor behind it. But, please, don’t call me Woody.
Have you earned a nickname you’re willing to share in a comment? I’d love to hear its story.