And now, may I call you by your first name?
This is how I think it should go in all circles where we are quoting or referring to what someone has said. For indeed, once we have heard or read what has come into our sensory space, we are--thus--intended audience. The spoken or written once released into the wild solicits attending, and once delighted or slogged by reaching the end of the communiqué, we are friends or enemies or bored neighbors, but more known than known about, intimates, definitely not strangers.
I was reminded of this insight recently, or it was made clearer to me when a reader castigated me for something I had written, his message proffered without so much as a salutation. I noted that and had some feelings about him and what he had written because of the omission. Did he know me so well that he could launch his salvo skipping more conventional correspondence conventions? I guess he felt he did, or he was so upset he couldn't bother, so carried away was he with writing his own message that I should "get" and proceed to my just reward.
And then this came into my inbox. An article in the _New York Review of Books_ seemed to support the notion of knowing, in the sense of being more familiar with the person as writer once we had read his or her words.
It seems impossible, at least for me, to read almost anything without being aware of the person behind it and without putting that person in relation to what he or she has written and indeed to readers of the book, to the point that I sometimes wonder, in the teeth of a literary critical tradition that has always told us the writer's personality is irrelevant to any appraisal of the work, whether one of the pleasures of literature isn't precisely this contemplation of the enigma of the person creating it.*
I find the way we usually refer to the writer or speaker, including the conspicuous absence of any reference whatsoever, disturbing and contrary to the relationship we always have now that we have read or heard another's words. We have been in the other's presence and thus now effectively introduced as two together traveling along Discourse Road at least as far as the subject matter or the relationship drives us.
My grievance is this. When academics, although not exclusive to this subculture, want to quote or comment on what another has contributed to the knowledge base or a discussion, we say, "__________ [enter person's last name] has said . . . " or contends or questions, etc. "Shakespeare [not Mr. Shakespeare or Will or William or Bill] treated such-and-such theme in _Hamlet_." Everyone knows this William Shakespeare, or The Bard, but he is and has long been his LastName, and we keep on speaking of him and his works by using just LastName. Darby is someone we think we don't know, and we say, "Darby concludes that her experiment in social constructionism demonstrates" that such-and-such-and-so-on.
Now, William Shakespeare or Willa Darby are people we do now know intimately having read their each of their words or heard them performed. (Don't get confused. Willa Darby doesn't exist even though you think she does because you were googling around just now. I am imagining her here as some kind of scientist who said/wrote something, just to make a point.) We effectively become intimates with these people, connected through the highly personal and sincere efforts of theirs to communicate something and our personal and sincere efforts in listening to a first person relate what is important to him or her. Shouldn't that count for a more personal reference if we want to tell our stories about ourselves quoting or referencing our intimates?
Mr. Shakespeare conveys a closer feeling-tone, does it not? I know he is dead, but he lives in our consciousness in the present through his great works, that is words. And Willa, she for her part is not only a respected professional but now among those I would call upon to support me and lend credibility to my thoughts or feelings on subjects of our mutual concern. I show my interest and concern for her by attending to what she has done her best to express. She likewise demonstrates her interest and concern for me by carefully devoting focused energy on a matter she thinks I and others need to know about, understand, feel.
What is the order of intimacy or familiarity you ask, because some writers and speakers command different respect. Different forms of address signal different register. There is a difference between Willa and Dr. Darby. Well, this is all fodder for another treatise which probably has already been chewed and spit out by someone. Other than the LastName convention, these denotations and nuances can be set aside, or google 'em if you like.
My point comes down to the fact that I don't like, and never have, referring to others we bring into our lives and conversations by using just a surname. Cold, impersonal, rude? Perhaps that is going a bit far. But if I felt that someone is person enough to have become one of those I would quote or reference in what I want to say, doesn't s/he deserve more than LastName? Mr. Shakespeare is respectful and suitable as a handle for polite academic discussions. Dr. Darby sounds both respectful and personal if I am referring to her and her professional work. Smith next door is really closer than my use of this his LastName. He is really Bob, and he drives me crazy. (No. Just kidding.)
You have surmised, have you not, that I have never liked it when I have heard someone refer to me by this LastName business. Perhaps more importantly, how does it sound to you? you as your last name only?
Assume you have said something and others have heard or read you and are making reference to you or what you have said in sanity or its opposite. Say this out loud inserting your last name where indicated.
_LastName_ yesterday said that the number of migrants entering Europe from Africa with the "help" of traffickers was appalling. "Something should be done by individual governments, yes, but the EU has some role to play. They had better start talking now to resolve this situation," _LastName_ said.
Alternatively, have someone read the above out loud to you. Think about it for a moment. How's that feel?
Call me the crazy and overly-sensitive one, but I hear my own last name when someone refers to me as strange, oddly distant, imperfect, something I can't quite label. As if I am not here, or there. It is a kind of out of body experience for me, although I have never had one of those. Am I dead or what? I am right here, buddy. But I am sure I was not far away when I heard or read reference to me other than by my given name. Definitely jarring, not agreeable.
Thus a proposal, which I know will be impossible to see taken up in any foreseeable future and certainly not in my lifetime: Do away with the shorthand LastName utterance when referring to someone who has spoken personally to you. Find a more friendly and persuasive and engaging way to talk about our fellow travelers.
We know so little about Shakespeare's life, and yet as we read his sonnets, or watch his plays, we develop an idea of Shakespeare, and we are aware of a continuity of "personality" behind the writing. We have the impression that if someone ever did find the full story of his life, we would immediately recognize the person we had in mind.*
Please not Shakespeare. Let that be William Shakespeare.
__________
* from _The Writer's Shadow_ by Tim Parks,
http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2015/jun/08/writers-shadow-antonio-tabucchi/
