I was recently asked by a ChinesePod user why my given name was only one character whereas every Chinese he knew had two characters as a given name. This got me thinking: what is in a Chinese name? What do the styles or pattern if you will tell about the person, where he comes from and the time he was born in? Come to think of it, Chinese names are fascinating specimen with rich cultural and political implications, perhaps more than names in many other languages.

1. One character vs. two characters

My full name is 朱琦/Zhūqí, (surname 朱, given name 琦). This pattern of single character given names are known as 单名(dānmíng). It is a hallmark of people born in the early 1980′s. In fact, historically most Chinese had two character given names, 双名(shuāngmíng). Having a single character name was rather rare and something that only mavericks such as master Tang dynasty poet 李白(Lǐ Bái) and or the de facto founder of modern Chinese literature 鲁迅(Lǔ Xǔn) gave themselves as pen names. So what happened to subvert tradition? Well, a few very significant events from the end of the Cultural Revolution,  start of Opening Up and Reform and the one-child policy. China was a new country, a new heaven and new earth. My parents, along side tens of millions of other Chinese young parents were filled with a new energy, a new hope. Giving your kid a single character name was a powerful demonstration of budding Chinese individualism and creativity. I don’t have any hard stats to support my claim, but I have always had half as many classmates and friends with single character names as those with two. And a few members of the single character clan became quite famous in China and abroad: 姚明/Yáo Míng, 刘翔Liú Xiáng and 韩寒/Hán Hán.

2. Slogan style names

“建国/Jiànguó/build the nation”, “国庆/Guóqìng/ National Day”, “抗美/Kàngměi/ fight the US”, “援朝/Yuáncháo/help North Korea”… these sound like once terrifying slogans and now amusing statements on T-shirts. But they are also real names that a generation of Chinese have, and not as pen names. These slogans were the reigning doctrines in China throughout the 1950′s to the 1960′s. In my own family, there is an uncle “建国/Jiànguó”, an auntie “抗美/Kàngměi”. These names are both inherently political and apolitical. Although I have never asked, but I doubt my Buick driving auntie “fight America” harbors any ill intentions towards her namesake country.

3. Social class names

In China, traditional working class names usually are a direct reflection of the parents’ hope for their children: “根发/gēnfā/prosper the root(family)”, “招娣/zhāodì/ to bring a little brother”. A few decades ago when a big part of China was not fully literate, thinking of names with elegant sound and meaning was a privileged feat.  But as illiteracy is gradually eradicated, the social gap in names is also narrowing. People with junior high school education can easily pick out an elegant name for their baby based on media references which I will elaborate on in the fifth point.

4. The military gentry names

I feel partial to this because I come from a military family. Both sides of my grandparents joined the PLA in their early youth and remained lifelong service men and women. And the early PLA members had a glorious tradition of dedicating themselves to the revolutionary effort at the expense of personal life, so much so that they did not quite bother to put thoughts into naming their children (that’s my dad’s theory). Browse these name and see if you can find a common thread: 朱小荣/Zhū xiǎoróng，朱小铎/Zhū xiǎoduó，朱小临/Zhū xiǎolín，朱小敏/Zhū xiǎomǐng，朱小虹/Zhūxiǎohóng，张晓兵/Zhāng xiǎobīng，张晓军/Zhāng xiǎojūn ，张晓琳/Zhāng xiǎolíng，张晓菲/Zhāng xiǎofēi. (The Zhu family is my dad’s side; the Zhang family is my mom’s.) Both sets of my grandparents and many of their comrades named their children with military uniformity. Surname+xiao+a character was the standard.  The largest variation was using this 晓 instead of 小 as in big and small.

5. The Taiwan soap opera names

The 1950′s throughout 1970′s were disastrous for China all round, including names. After political slogans and an afterthought xiao+names dominated the society, creativity was unleashed in the early 80′s as aforementioned. Soon after, cultural influence from Taiwan and Hongkong took the mainland  by storm. A generation came of age on Taiwan films, TV and novels. The most influential figure was a writer named 琼瑶/Qióng Yáo, the Danielle Steele in the Chinese speaking world. Her novels of passionate romance set in the early 1900′s or 70′s Taiwan intoxicated young women and men. She also deftly names her characters in an ethereal way (or later as they’d be known in a Qiong Yao way). These names often involve characters such as “梦/mèng/dream ” “云/yún/cloud” “雨/yǔ /rain” and “烟/yān/smoke”. They sound like names of immortals living on cloud nine. And those are the names that many parents gave to their kids in the late 1980′s to early 1990′s. Suddenly, one character names became like acid wash jeans and leg warmers, cool at first tacky the second glance. That’s why some of my compatriots changed names after they started reading Qiong Yao novels. One of my friends changed her her single character name into 姿雨/Zīyǔ, a signature Qiong Yao style name.

I had the pleasure of trying to pick a name for my son last Christmas. After much pondering and debate, I settled with 朱子轩／Zhū Zǐxuān. 子/zǐ as in 孔子／Kǒngzǐ/Confucius;  轩/xuān refers to a small room where ancient literatis retreated and be inspired in. I like chose these characters because they are minimal and gentle. And I especially like the character Zi, having it in the middle of your name gives it a very classic touch for some reason. I guess many parents concur with me because each time I take my son to get his immunization shots, I see a slew of Zi+xx names displayed on the board. Ah, what a name!