How to Name Yourself
Mine didn’t quite translate when I came to the U.S.
My name is weird. How weird? It’s “Haukur Örn Hauksson.” Yeah. Literally translated, it means “Hawk Eagle Son of Hawk.” I love my parents dearly, but they can be a little bit eccentric sometimes, like when they explained their inspiration was for me to have a “Native American name.”
This is interesting, because I’m not Native American, I’m actually from Iceland, that cold, brutal, volcanic island in the North where Vikings wrestle polar bears, eat sour ram testicles, and have an unorthodox naming culture. See, Icelanders don’t actually have a last name in the traditional sense. Our last names are our father’s name plus “Son” as in “son of,” or “Dóttir” as in “daughter of.” I am Hauksson, my sister is Hauksdóttir.
A family unit thus often all have different last names. In my experience, Americans find this fairly incomprehensible. And in case you were wondering about the weird symbols, we do have a few extra letters, and yes, it’s a little bit complicated.
In fact, Icelandic is a very stubborn language, and has basically refused to change for over 1,000 years. It’s hard to teach…
