What’s in a (detective’s) name?

In Jennings Goes To School by Anthony Buckeridge, Jennings and his friend, Derbyshire, are trying to think of a name for the detective hero of the story they want to write:

 

“First of all,” said Derbyshire, licking his pencil, “we’ve got to think of a name for the detective.”

“It ought to be something out of the ordinary,” said Jennings.

“What about Mr Nehemiah Bultitude? Or Mr Theophilus Goodbody if you like.”

“Oh, don’t be daft,” said Jennings.  “You can’t have detectives called things like that.  Anyone called Theophilus Goodbody would have to be a clergyman; they always are.  And if a chap’s a farmer, his name’s always Hayseed or Barleycorn, or if he’s a schoolmaster he’s Dr Whackem or something like that.  You’ve only got to look in the library and you’ll see all Dicken’s characters have name that suit them, like Pecksniff and Cheeryble and Cruncher and they live at places called Eatanswill.”

“But what I can’t see,” objected Derbyshire, “is how anyone knows what they’re going to be like before they’re born.  According to that, if you’ve got a name like Fuzziwig you could never be as bald as a coot however hard you tried and if your name’s Marlinspike Mainbrace, f’instance, you’ve just got to be a sailor, even if you don’t want to be.”

“Well, what sort of name do you have to be born with so’s you can be a great detective?”

The work of research yielded the information that, unless your surname consisted of a single syllable and your parents had been generous enough to give you a two-syllabled first name, you could never hope to succeed in the world of crime-detection.  Sherlock Holmes, Sexton Blake, Nelson Lee, Dixon Hawke, Falcon Swift, Ferrers Locke – all the best detectives were most careful to have the correct number of syllables to their names.

“What about Egbert Snope?” suggested Derbyshire.  “That sticks to the rules all right.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t sound right,” objected Jennings.

 

And there you have it; the name has to sound right and if it has the right number of syllables, that’s an added bonus.  The two boys eventually come up with “Flixton Slick – Super Sleuth” a perfect 1950’s name for the sort of character they create (this is the era of Paul Temple).  Hercule Poriot breaks the rules, but not if he’s called M. Poriot, as he often is.  Jane Marple?  Yep.  Lord Peter Wimsey?  Almost, especially if you think of “Lord” as a first name. Frank and Joe Hardy?  On the money.  Some detectives are individualistic enough to have a two syllabled first name and a single syllabled surname, like Father Brown, Nero Wolfe and Phillip Trent, but Douglas Adam’s Dick Gently and Terry Pratchett’s Sam Vimes stick to the pattern, as does John Rebus.

I first read Jennings Goes To School when I was about eight.  Thinking about Jack Haldean, it’s amazing how some things stay with you....