What’s in a name?

Rather than attempt to untangle the mysteries of gender or lack of gender in The Female Man, I have decided to post this week on the use of names in postmodern literature.  I am interested in knowing if an attribute of postmodern literature is the symbolic (and often overtly so) naming of characters.  The prosecution offers the the generic women in The Female Man as Exhibit A:  Spossisa (“three times divorced”), Eglantissa (“thinks only of clothes”), Aphrodissa (“cannot keep her eyes open because of her false eyelashes”), Clarissa (“will commit suicide”), Lucrissa (“strained forehead shows that she’s making more money than her husband”), Wailissa (“engaged in a game of ain’t-it-awful”), Lamentissa (Wailissa’s partner for the “ain’t-it-awful” game), Travailissa (“usually only works”), Saccharissa (“naughty” and “playing a round of His Little Girl across the bar with the host”), Amicissa (“the Good Sport”), Ludicrissa (“too plain to be invited”), Amphibissa (“never invited…for obvious reasons”), Domicissa (“never opens her mouth in public”), Dulcississa (“whose standard line is, ‘Oh, you’re so wonderful!’”). . .(34)

 

According to my trusty 1995 Webster’s New World Dictionary, here are the meanings of words similar in spelling:

spouse = husband or wife

eglantine = a European rose with sweet-scented leaves and pink flowers

aphrodisiac = arousing sexual desire

clarity (?) = clearness

lucre = riches; money

wail = to make a long, loud, sad cry, as in grief or pain

lament = to mourn

travail = very hard work OR intense pain; agony

saccharine = of or like sugar OR too sweet

amicable (?) = friendly; peaceable

OR amiss (?) = astray OR improper

ludicrous = causing laughter because absurd or ridiculous

amphibious = [living a double life] that can live or operate on land or water

domestic = of the home or family OR tame; said of animals

dulcet = soothing or pleasant to hear

Some of the connections seem rather blatant and, in The Female Man, seem to clearly reinforce the existence of female stereotypes [Aphrodissa, for example, attempts to arouse sexual desire with the stereotypical girl-maker, that is, make-up (the pinnacle of which may be the false eyelashes, associated clearly with a female eye-batting approach to winning a male’s attention)]; however, some I find surprisingly intriguing (Domicissa, for example, who never speaks in public, matching with the “tame” meaning for domestic, and even furthermore, tame in a way to be “said of animals,” perhaps indicating that Domicissa falls into an animal-like silence in public – due to repeated male domination?)

 

As Exhibits B and C in the symbolic name trial, I offer the names from Crying [Oedipa, of course, (with an Oedipus correlation), but also “Mucho” Maas (“much more”), Dr. Hilarius, San Narciso [name of a place, but comparable to narcissism – self-love – or Narcissus, Manny Di Presso (manic depression?), Metzger’s “actor/lawyer friend,” and the list goes on…] and from Lathe (the obvious George Orr – noticeably similar to George Orwell).

Is it an attribute of postmodernism to make heavy symbolic use of character names, or does it just happen to work out in these cases?  Also, is the symbolism/meaning/comparison always so blatant, or are these authors trying to ridicule a "need" (of their readers) to make such obvious connections?  Lastly, are the meanings of the names as obvious as we/I think they are, or is there more to them?