A Journey Through Names: A Review of The Names by D. M. Knapp
Isn’t there something magical about names? Those little collections of letters can shape identity, evoke emotion, and tell stories of their own. When I stumbled upon The Names by D. M. Knapp, I was immediately drawn to the intricate exploration of how a name can carry the weight of family legacy and personal expectations. Set against the backdrop of England in 1987, this novel intertwines a mother’s hopes and fears with the harrowing complexities of familial relationships, all through the lens of the characters’ names.
At the heart of the narrative is Cora, a mother navigating the tumultuous waters of her marriage to Gordon, a beloved local doctor whose public persona starkly contrasts with the darker side of his temperament at home. My heart ached for Cora as she pushed the pram to the registry office to register her newborn son, feeling the constricting pressure of naming him after his father. The opening lines depict her watching “the letters form, each one emerging like some magical and extraordinary thing.” But this magic soon gives way to the burdens of identity, especially as Cora grapples with her distaste for “GORdon” and the reality that she must channel her child’s potential into a name that weighs more like a shackle than a gift.
One of the novel’s most poignant moments comes when Maia, Cora’s 9-year-old daughter, proposes the name "Bear." This suggestion encapsulates the essence of what Cora desires for her son—qualities of strength, kindness, and bravery. Knapp’s writing shines here, beautifully capturing Cora’s internal struggle as she contemplates what each name could mean for her son. The contrast between soft, nurturing "Bear" and the oppressive "Gordon" provides an emotional punch that resonated deeply with me.
Knapp employs a unique narrative structure that shifts between seven-year intervals, challenging yet enriching the reading experience. At times, I found myself momentarily disoriented, wondering where I was in the timeline. However, the device ultimately serves to emphasize the cyclical nature of familial patterns—how the past can echo into the present. Each character, though altered by time, carries memories and scars that shape their interactions in new dimensions of their lives. This layering creates a rich tapestry of interconnected stories, reminiscent of the BBC’s documentary series Seven-Up, which explores how our lives pivot around pivotal moments and names.
The illustrations interspersed throughout the narrative, from a bear face to a bottle of gin, further enhance the poignancy of Cora’s journey. They root the story in tactile memories, much like how names can evoke vivid recollections. I particularly appreciated how these visual motifs offer a playful yet insightful commentary on the themes of identity and transformation.
As I closed the final pages of The Names, I found myself contemplating not just the characters’ journeys but also my own relationship with names—how they can encapsulate the essence of who we are and who we aspire to be. This book speaks to anyone who has grappled with the legacies of their family name or sought to redefine themselves apart from it.
With its compelling themes and rich character development, The Names is a beautifully introspective read that will resonate particularly with those who enjoy books that delve into family dynamics and the complexities of personal identity. Whether you’re a parent, a name enthusiast, or someone simply navigating the intricacies of human relationships, Knapp’s novel invites you to reflect on the power of names and the stories we all carry. Happy reading!