“What’s in a name?”
This is a question Shakespere brings up in Romeo and Juliet, although in the play Juliet’s monologue is about how a name really doesn’t mean anything.
She states, “that which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet,” which essentially means a rose is a rose not because we call it a rose but simply because it is one.
So to Juliet, a name doesn’t mean anything objectively– and perhaps that’s true.
However, as beautifully depicted in Anna Panunto’s “My Name Is Giaconda,” a name can be incredibly powerful if we as individuals embrace it.
Like in Romeo and Juliet, if Romeo felt attached to his family name of Montague he almost assuredly wouldn’t have ever considered running off with Juliet, who was a member of a rival family.
But clearly in the play, Shakespeare wants us to see names as something unimportant and trivial.
In Anna’s piece, she seems to be doing the opposite: she’s asking us to consider the importance of a name.
But there can also be pain in a name depending on one’s perception
“My Name Is Giaconda” is a semi-autobiographical piece that forces us to face the reality that maybe there is more to a name than Shakespeare would have had us think.
A name has untapped potential just on its own– as Juliet remarks about a rose.
A rose is a rose regardless of its name just as a Montague is a person regardless of its name and Giaconda is the same.
It really depends on how one chooses to interpret the name and external circumstances in which the name is given or perceived.
So in Anna’s case, her mother wanted to name her Giaconda– a much less traditional Italian name– but due to family tradition in the 20th century, names were passed down through generations, and well, since Giaconda was such an untraditional name it wouldn’t have been appropriate to use.
As stated in Anna’s piece: “The name Giaconda would create an ancestral war like knives to baby skin.
Not only would it have been inappropriate, but it would have even caused potential conflict like the names Montague and Capulett in Romeo and Juliet.
But to truly unleash the power of a name, we must embrace it.
We must accept the name and be empowered by it.
Which is exactly what happened 54 years after being given the name Anna Maria by her mother.
Read through her piece– maybe even a few times– and then let me know your thoughts in the comments.
Do you think there’s potential power in a name?
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IO MI CHIAMO GIACONDA ( MY NAME IS GIACONDA)
written by
Anna Panunto
It whispered to me ever so tentatively in my awakened dreams. Almost like a Sufi mystic… I saw the name in colorful fragments almost like tiny pieces of heaven. It told me that a name… is not just letters to a word. Every letter to a given name breathes life to it. The name is intimately connected to the soul. It even has a sound that reverberates to the universe and it can cut through all earthly noise.
Mama knew my name but she kept it a secret. A few weeks before I was born, she would gently massage her ever growing belly every night and only when no one was watching, would she sing a sweet lullaby named, Giaconda mia. It would lull both our souls to sleep. Giaconda… Giaconda my little treasure, twinkle with the stars … my Giaconda… mama loves you…twinkle, twinkle. Please forgive me my precious angel, but I must name you Anna-Maria instead. The name Giaconda would create an ancestral war like knives to baby skin. It would set my world on fire; so, I must relinquish your name. I will bury all of its letters inside my heart. A secret funeral. I promise to visit you one day, Giaconda… Tonight is the last night that I call you this secret name.
And so, the funeral took place on my baptism as I was named after two mothers. There was a mystical cloud that appeared in the church that morning and then there was a sudden thunder.
Until… alas… 54 years later! The name summoned me like in a ghost lore. It was translucent yet lifelike. It even had a voice, Giaconda… dove stai? The voice was exhausted but not defeated. It was soft but not feeble. It was genderless in the most exquisite way. Its frequency was powerful but not dark. The voice had been floating in between worlds for over five decades. Yet a miracle happened and it finally manifested itself to claim its consciousness.
Now gloriously awakened both the voice and I begin the mission – the claiming of the name with the almighty sword. First, the voice must visit its womb. It entered mama’s sleep but she mercilessly ignored it. The voice witnessed how mama’s womb has aged so grotesquely. The hollow pear shaped organ is no longer. And its dry desert-like cavity is no longer the glorious shape of a triangle. Giaconda cried like a newborn. The nostalgic birth. Then, it made its plea to the archangel Gabriel. Gabriel instantaneously brought news of a miraculous re-birth to the world.
Mama continued denying its existence in her sleep but started feeling desperate and so she frantically called upon my given name … Anna-Maria, Anna-Maria, Anna-Maria vienne qui… per lamore de dio. She fervently prays to the given name that is no more and asks the two saints Anna and Maria for a miracle. Her prayer is not heard for the angels have muted her voice.
Giaconda manifests into a flower and begins to bloom into a Semper Augustus tulip. This vision finally brings mama to her knees and for the first time in her earthy existence, mama surrenders and floods the ground beneath her with bloodshed tears.
Giaconda whispers in
between mama’s tears, “ Why have you forsaken me, mama?” I have always been here kissing you with every brushstroke. My colors fuse and blend everywhere I travel… I sent you kisses in your sleep every single night… but you chose not to see me. Mama remains silent.
Again I must implore, “Why have you forsaken me, mama?” For 54 years, I have been the wind to the birds and the almighty sword to the women. You were bestowed this gift of naming. My name means…
And mama finally speaks… “Your name means the joyful one. Giaconda… perdonami…. “
Mama, I am beyond the 16th century oil painting. “ Yes, you are figlia mia ”. Mama, I am beyond the Four act opera by Ponchielli. “ Yes you are figlia mia ”. And I am even more exquisite than the wine. “ Yes you are figlia mia ”.
Giaconda, “ No vineyard, opera house, or painter shall replace the animus of your anima. You have come this sacred night to finally claim your name. Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me figlia mia”…
Yes, mama… you are forgiven.
IO
MI
CHIAMO
GIACONDA.
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