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In the fictional kingdom of Westeros, created in George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Fire and Ice series and depicted on HBO’s Game of Thrones, illegitimate children of noble houses take certain surnames depending on which of the kingdom’s nine regions they are raised in.
Thus, fan favorite Jon Snow takes his surname from the cold of the North, while royals raised in the southern deserts of Dorne take the surname Sand. In that respect, the Westerosian practice of acknowledging illegitimate royals resembles the occasional English practice of naming illegitimate sons of kings “Fitzroy,” meaning “son of the king.” That includes Henry Fitzroy, the only illegitimate son that King Henry VIII acknowledged, and James FitzJames, named the First Duke of Berwick by his father, the Stuart-era King James II.
But what if the same practice of naming illegitimate children applied in the United States? Leaving aside the fact that America lacks actual aristocrats, and ignoring the rights of Americans to name their children as they see fit, who would be the Snows of Arkansas or the Sands of Wyoming? A thread on Reddit.com tossed out some ideas, and we’ve come up with a few of our own possible naming schemes.
1. Food. In May 2015, social media company Foursquare created a map showing the foods most disproportionately popular in each state. Since food is central to culture, that list of foods might lend itself to names for illegitimate aristocrats from each state. Thus, a noble bastard out of Louisiana might be Jon Crawfish, but in North Dakota, he’d be Jon Bison. In Florida, he’d be Jon Conch (for conch fritters), but in Nevada, he’d be Jon Bottle (for Las Vegas bottle service). And in Maine, of course, he’d be Jon Lobster. In fact, such names, while not common, aren’t unheard of. The 15 billion records on Ancestry include 797 records for the surname Crawfish; 11,106 for Bison; 10,294 for Conch; and 41,355 records for Bottle; but only 370 for Lobster.
2. Occupations. Economists have mapped uniquely popular occupations for each state as well. So, while “Game of Thrones” features a fierce illegitimate noblewoman from Dorne named Ellaria Sand, an illegitimate noblewoman in California under this scheme would be named Ellaria Actor. In Delaware, she’d be Ellaria Chemist. In Oregon, she’d be Ellaria Logger, and in Indiana, she’d be Ellaria Boilermaker. In Minnesota, she’d be Ellaria Packer (for slaughterers and meat packers).
Giving illegitimate royals those names might make sense since so many actual surnames are based on occupations, such as Miller and Baker. Ancestry has 20,541 records for the surname Actor; 270 for Chemist; 5,252 for Logger; 41 for Boilermaker; and a whopping 649,171 records for Packer, a name that originally referred to the occupation of wool packing or wool wholesaling.
3. Natural disasters. If each state has a food or an occupation that’s uniquely popular, many also have natural disasters that are linked to that state, as The New York Times recently mapped out. Since illegitimacy remains a stigma in Westeros (even though most forms of discrimination based on legitimacy have been declared unconstitutional in the United States), the calamity of illegitimacy might be reflected by the calamity of a local natural disaster.
Thus, in Hawaii, where slow-moving volcanic flow can engulf a village, an illegitimate aristocrat might take the name Lava. In Washington State, where the May 18, 1980, eruption of Mt. Saint Helens killed 57 people, they might take the surname Lahar, the scientific name for the volcanic mudslide that destroyed the area around mountain. In Oklahoma, the heart of Tornado Alley, they might be named Funnel, while in North Carolina, one of the states most threatened by hurricanes, they might take the name Storm. In California, they might be called Quake.
All of those names, while largely uncommon, do actually exist. Ancestry has 7,861 records for individuals named Lava; 3,907 for Lahar; 9,241 for Funnel; 2,197 for Quake; and 425,211 for Storm, a name that actually derives from the Nordic nickname for a man with a blustery temperament.
4. Commemorative Quarters. Since this exercise involves a fictional United States, perhaps it makes sense to democratically devise surnames for illegitimate aristocrats in each state. The closest we’ve come to that may be the process used to pick the commemorative quarters that the U.S. Mint coined from 1999 to 2008. In 33 states, governors picked the final design for the coins based on input from advisory groups and regular citizens. In 17 states, citizens directly chose the final image to represent their state by voting online, via telephone, or by mail.
Under this scheme, illegitimate royals in Nevada might be named “Mustang” for the three horses Nevadans picked to display on that state’s quarter. The same lot in Washington State might be named “Salmon” for the leaping fish they chose for their 25-cent piece. In Idaho, they could be “Falcon,” for the peregrine falcon the state chose. In Georgia, no surprise, they might be called “Peach.” And again, Ancestry has records for all of those names: a search for Mustang brings up 3,332 records; Peach yields 361,304; and Falcon 211,764 (the surname was actually first applied to falconers or to someone who embodied the speed and courage of a falcon). Salmon is the most popular at 960,500, as the name is actually a fairly common derivation of the biblical name Solomon.
How many records can you find for your actual surname? Ancestry will give you a free 14-day trial you can use to find out!
— Sandie Angulo Chen