This is the fifth collected volume from the team directed by Parker for Oxford's Lexicon of Greek Personal Names. This time the subject is change, that is to say that personal names are treated not as material with a more or less perennial stability, anchored in their soil and environment or even the family that transmits them from generation to generation, and characteristic of some historical period, but rather from the point of view of their mutability and the historical, political or social change that they embody. The introduction, at once rich, clear and nuanced, opens with a form of taxonomy of change: Parker rightly distinguishes two degrees (individual vs collective) and a structural form (the idionym is progressively accompanied by a patronym when the formulation of identity needs to become more precise) that are brought about by contact with cultural otherness, whether it results from growing Romanisation or Christianisation; changes can also be simply internal: the fruit, often, of the evolution of tastes and fashions. The issue of the so-called ‘irrational’ compounds (O. Masson, Onomastica Graeca Selecta, ed. C. Dobias and L. Dubois [1990], p. 88: ‘intraduisibles’; p. 404: ‘irrationnels’; and OGS 3 [2000], p. 226: ‘irrationnels’ or ‘combinaisons arbitraires de radicaux’) is finally presented (Old Names, New Associations). As leader on the (forthcoming online) LGPN-Ling project of etymological and semantic analysis of personal names, I intend to discuss this in more detail in a dedicated paper: in fact, even though the onomastic material is only correlated to language rather than being strictly linguistic, the notion itself of ‘irrational’ seems inappropriate even for those compounds that do not have their correspondent in the lexicon. Above all, the idea taken up by Parker of assemblages of elements in which ‘the semantic force was ignored’ lacks nuance just for once. Certainly, there is a small batch of compound names that seem ‘untranslatable’ (such as Λυσί-κριτος, see Chapter 7, p. 154, S. Lambert's quotation of Fick-Bechtel, GPN 2, p. ix, looking like unsyntactic Verb+Verbal Adj.), and Masson was probably right in trying to explain those, very few among the 20,000 names already analysed in LGPN-Ling, as made of elements borrowed from the two families, maternal and paternal, of the newborn child.
There follow eleven contributions. The main interest of T. Meissner on pre-alphabetical onomastics (around 2000 attested spellings of personal names) lies in the exchanges highlighted in Knossos between names in Linear A and in Linear B (Hellenisation, of -i-nouns by the -i-jo suffix: ma-di → ma-di-jo; of reduplicated names, by thematisation: di-de-ru → di-de-ro) and between Knossos, Pylos and Anatolia (names in -da-ro perhaps continued in that of Homeric Trojans like Πάνδαρος, without an equivalence with -δαλος being totally excluded): the question then arises as to the possible identity of a substratum at least between Minoan Crete and mainland Greece. Meissner also highlights the weak continuum with alphabetic onomastics (only 12% of Mycenaean names have an alphabetic correspondent, and 75% are simple rather than compound names).
M. Hatzopoulos provides a remarkable working tool: the three onomastica of Aigeai (98 citizens) and Pella (228), to which is added, for comparison, Beroia (331), where the names of persons, arranged alphabetically and dated, are classified according to four categories: Greek epichoric, Panhellenic, Foreign, Unclassifiable. From the synthesis offered ‘emerge the onomastic profiles of the three cities’ (p. 51), characterised above all by the difference in ratio, according to the cities, between epichoric and Panhellenic names (twice as many as the former in Aigeai and Beroia compared to Pella), even if it is true that the latter label can cover names that are particularly popular in Macedonia, such as Ἀλέξανδρος. The first two cities show local, unique (Δρύκαλος, Κλησιθήρα) or typical (Ἀδαῖος, Κατάνικος) names, notable absences (Ἀλέξανδρος, in Aigeai) and the rarity of theophoric names, unlike Pella (names derived from the appellative Ἀδαῖος ‘mother’ could reflect the otherwise mostly Boeotian cult of Demeter and the Mother of Gods), whose more standardised and cosmopolitan onomastics correspond to the larger size of the city.
D. Knoepfler surveys eight centuries of Thespian onomastics (fifth century bc–third century ad) through a choice of name catalogues, to highlight, as expected since Robert (OMS VI, 695), the progressive standardisation: rare and ancient names (Καφισοθράσε¯ς, Εὐμάριχος compounds and especially hypocoristic and derived names, such as Ὀδρίο¯ν or Φόσο¯ν) through the Classical and continuing into the Hellenistic period (Λόμβαξ, Γρέχας), before the dissolution of the Koinon by the Senate (171 bc). The imperial period is characterised, as elsewhere, by various adaptations of the Latin onomastic formula and the fashion for mythological names and derivatives in -ικός, -ᾶς and -ιανός.
J. Curbera's innovative essay is on the names of the satyrs (120 examples mainly on Attic vases): according to him, they were inspired by an old tradition of popular folklore and were names of masked parades, in which the performed roles inspired generic names that are both descriptive (Βρίκων, Αἴθων, Πόρις), sometimes resulting from the simple conversion of -ος appellatives used metaphorically (Κισσός, Σκίρτος), and often expressive (two-syllable and sonorous names: Βυβᾶς, Πόσθων). The second part consists of the semantic analysis of 37 of these names, often converted into personal names (as Σιλανό-δοτος, ‘Enfant de la foire’, i.e. conceived in the festive season), sometimes opaque at first sight, such as the compound Κάδωρος (‘keeper of the wine-jar’), Μολκός (probably to be corrected into Μολγός, i.e. βόειος ἀσκός) or Σύβας (λάγνος, ‘lecherous’ Hsch.).
T. Corsten carefully looks at the individual ‘passive’ change of name for the slave, who generally receives, for various reasons (papyri even attest to a form of indifference to the name given, which can be changed at will), a new name from his master, sometimes in the form of the ethnic of his native country, without there being a specific category of slave names. For the free man, on the other hand, the change of name corresponds to another type of status change (such as for Τισίας, acquiring the name Στησίχορος as poet) and most often illustrates his desire for Hellenisation (Hasdrubal became Kleitomachos, once at the head of the Academy of Athens, late second century bc) or Romanisation (Διοκλῆς became the emperor Diocletianus, and Ἀπολλώνιος became a Roman citizen under the name of Gaios Ioulios Apolinarios, without even keeping his original name as a cognomen).
Lambert focuses on one compound name without lexical correspondent, Δημοκράτης, in Attica, looking at the evolution of its connotations according to the political context. He examines the different types of syntactical link between -κράτης and the first element to test Debrunner's translation proposals: ‘possessing (the) power of/over/through the people’ (‘ΔΗΜΟΚΡΑΤΙΑ’, in Festschrift für Édouard Tièche [1947], p. 13, reprinted in K.-H. Kinzl [ed], Demokratia. Wege zur Demokratie bei den Griechen [1995], p. 57). Unlike Ἀριστοκράτης, the name appears to be connoted sometimes negatively, except specifically in Athens, where it is most often used: a passage from Hypereides’ speech against Philippides (F21.2) testifies to its early programmatic value, which also emerges from its anteriority in relation to the abstract noun δημοκρατία.
The following two papers deal with (ex)changes due to intercultural contacts. D. Dana studies the interactions between Greek and Thracian names (role of chronological marker of the base -ζελμις, quite widespread in the Hellenistic period but relayed in the imperial period by -ζενις and -τραλις while the stock of Thracian names tends to decrease: in the Roman army mostly Βιθυς/Bithus, Διζας/Diza, Μουκαπορις/Mucapor and Μουκατραλις/Mucatralis). Expansion of Lallnamen and hypocoristic or derivatives made of Greek suffixes, compounds built on the names of the Thracian Istros, Strymon or Nestos rivers, and mythological names (Ῥῆσος, Ὀρφεύς, creation of Πολτύδωρος and special case of Μέντης) testify to the desire for rapprochement of the two communities in contact, although the popularity of the name Ἕλλην among the Thracians of the imperial period indicates their recognition of the dominant culture. C. Schuler suggests a periodisation of the onomastic history of Lycia: the indigenous names, in the majority until the third century bc, even among members of the elite, who more rarely bore Persian names (Artapates, Pharnakes), gradually gave way to Greek names (c. 200 bc–ad 50). However, names of both origins were maintained without stigma for generations, except for Lycians who had emigrated, while among women, as expected, Lycian names predominated. Elements of Roman onomastics then appear, in conjunction with changes both in the types of Greek names and in the stock of indigenous names, which, strikingly, continue to be exploited by the elite until the end (c. ad 50–300).
Romanisation and finally Christianisation are the subjects of the three last papers. J.-S. Balzat provides a socio-onomastic analysis of ‘The Diffusion of Roman Names and Naming Practices in Greek Poleis (2nd c. bc – 3rd c. ad)’ in Athens and in the rest of the Greek world. Before Caesar's dictatorship, citizens of the poleis mainly adopted nomina nuda. It seems they were people connected with – or simply originated from – the Roman diaspora settled in the cities. As expected, the main change came later, once Roman naming practices began to acquire a new socio-political capital, under the Empire: ‘Onomastics was only one facet of a more profound political conversion to Roman rule’ (p. 231). Generous grants of Roman citizenship can be observed in particular under Claudius, but Romanisation is also reflected in the choice of ‘new’ Greek names, such as in the family of the Roman senator Herodes Atticus, where not only Ἡρωδιανός, but even Ἀττικός (label of excellence due to the fashion for Atticism) reflects Roman influence. There are stimulating remarks on the fact that Roman naming practices were not only an elite phenomenon and on the reasons why Greeks could see those as a threat (Ap. Ty. Ep. 71–2). A. Rizakis focuses on the cultural and legal implications of the adoption of Roman names by the Greeks: he starts by reasserting the fact that until the end of the Republican era Roman citizenship was incompatible with any other. There are useful illustrations of the attempts, after Sulla, to make tria nomina and the Greek patronymic formula compatible. Depending on the city and the context, the new citizen used the Roman nomenclature for prestige, but with his Greek name as a cognomen, or rather the claim of his original identity made him designate himself by his Greek name alone. The patronym may be integrated between the nomen gentilicium and the cognomen or after the individual name that took its place. Reciprocally, the adoption by Romans of Greek names is not unattested (ὁ ἐπικαλούμενος Δημήτριος). The institutional Romanisation of all free citizens (ad 212) accelerated the process of homogenisation. Finally, S. Destephen studies the impact of Christianisation (from the Apostle Paul's journeys in the first century to the imperial edicts of the sixth century ad, imposing Christianity) on local names of Asia Minor in Late Antiquity. With the exception of a few feminine programmatic names (Δόμνα, Κύριλλα), the names borne by the first Christians are typically Greek (although the frequency of Αὐξάνων is quite unexpected) and even theophoric (borrowed from the gods Asclepios, Men, Artemis). The simplified Roman onomastic formula with two elements finally loses the nomen gentilicium (in the fifth century) when the patronymic formula becomes the norm again. The new religion only influenced names from that time on, and first of all in ecclesiastical circles. Ancient pagan names (Γεώργιος, Στέφανος), even theophoric ones (Θεόδωρος), were given by reference to martyrs, and even regional names may acquire wide popularity under the influence of famous saints (as Nikolaos, whose cult, at first Lycian, spread all over Europe).