TITLE

5 a: the distinguishing name of a written, printed, or filmed production b: a similar distinguishing name of a musical composition or a work of art
6: a descriptive name : appellation

When I went to the Frist last week, there was a photograph of one of Abraham Lincoln's assassination conspirators. The title of the work was what made me stop to look twice at the image. Before knowing the title, I liked the work. It had a grittiness and edge to it that was not common in the posed portraiture that dominates photographs from this period and that made it stand out from the work around it. While I wouldn't say that I liked the work any less after reading the title, but I did feel differently about it. The title changed my experience of the image. Before knowing the title, I read the insolence in the young man's stance one way. After knowing the title, the same body language had different connotations to me. In this case, the title was "a descriptive name" but sometimes the title has an even more profound impact when it's not descriptive.

One of the striking things to me about studying the book of Ruth this fall was the title. If you read the book of Ruth through several times without knowing the title of the story, I wonder what you might name it. I don't think I would have named it after Ruth. She's certainly a key player in the story, but she doesn't call attention to herself and therefore tends to fade into the background. I think this is noteworthy because the authors (both the human author and the Author) of the story want you to pay special attention to Ruth.

I think the title of something - whether it's a book, an album or a work of art - frames your experience as the reader/listener/viewer. This makes me wonder whether those who select the titles do so with great deliberation or on a whim. I think a close analogy to this is naming your children. In a way, the name you give your child frames her experience of life. Not because the name necessarily describes your child but because it is so much a part of her existence that she can't escape it.

I looked up the meanings for the names of each of my daughters before naming them, but only with the last child (K) was the meaning of the name the reason we chose the name we did and spelled it the way we did. B doesn't really like the meaning of her name, so we've altered the meaning to fit her better, since she doesn't go by her full name anyway. I think it makes her feel better to think of a meaning for her name that suits her better.

I used to not like my name. I think this was due in part to the fact that I did not have a middle name. There's no way to turn my name into a cute diminutive, so I was stuck with the name my parents gave me. It means "small, wise one" and I like that now. I'm not sure I am fully living up to the name, but it's a good goal to work towards. It frames my experience of life nicely, like a well-titled work of art.