What’s in a Neapolitan Nickname?

One of my earliest recollections of my father’s town in southern Italy was at nine-years old. The town of approximately 12,000 inhabitants is called Mugnano del Cardinale and it is surrounded by the Irpini Mountains, located just 45 miles from Naples.  

 

While my father worked in the US, he felt that it was important for his children to remain in close contact with their Italian heritage. My brother, sister and I would go off to Italy and spend our entire summers with our nonna, zii, zia, and cugini. It is also where I heard a multitude of colorful and unusual nicknames; and from these monikers I started to learn the Neapolitan dialect.

 

Awarding monikers to individuals can happen anywhere but this is especially true for residents living in small towns.  Nonetheless, southern Italians appear to have an innate quality for creating these appellations as they are in making a delicious puttanesca sauce on a Sunday morning.  If a resident in a town has a distinct physical characteristic he or she may be given a nickname. This means if the person has red hair, or is tall or short, this may lead to a nickname.

 

As a consequence, at about twelve years old I distinctly remember another occasion during the celebration of one of the town’s saints, Santa Filomena that my cousin introduced me to his friend, chiattone meaning chubby or corpulent, used as a term of endearment.  He was never offended when anyone called him this or what sounded like chiatton— in the Neapolitan dialect vowels are rarely pronounced at the end of a word.

 

Another, category that is influenced by the practice of naming in Mugnano del Cardinale is the flora and fauna group because the town relies primarily on an agrarian economy. For instance, I noticed many of the nicknames were created by fruits or vegetables to describe a person’s physical characteristic.  One particular individual that I recall had a distinct physical feature, and thus the Neapolitan noun capomelone or melon-head was used when referring to this individual.

 

Other names I remember hearing to describe someone’s facial features were, capopecora sheep-head or capopuorco pig-head. In the past, one would also bestow the nickname of capocitrulo (cucumber-head), to signify an individual’s limited intelligence or simplemindedness.  I have been told that some mother-in-laws in the past would term their new son-in-laws capocitrulo —provided that they did not feel their son-in-law was suited for their daughter.

 

Today, from what I have been told when visiting, few including mother-in-laws, use the word in Naples or in the surrounding areas anymore.  Additional monikers in the vegetable category used as nicknames by Neapolitans are: cucuzziello =zucchini, puparulo =peppers, pumbarlo =tomatoes, fusulo =beans, scarola =escarole, patanaro =potato. I recall one family was given the nickname famiglia patanaro because they would eat potatoes every day. Potato salad, potatoes with pasta, potatoes and eggs, potato croquets, potato and zucchini and many more combinations were involved using potatoes.

 

At the same time, a relative could have the same first and last name as his/her cousin, aunt, or grandparent living in the same town.  To avoid any confusion, when addressing this person, family members and/or friends may give a moniker to an individual in order to distinguish between which John or Paul is being mentioned.  

 

Sobriquets in the Neapolitan dialect can sound very odd for a little boy from New York City who was not familiar with the colloquial usage and who lived in a household where American English was predominantly spoken.  As the years past, and as I developed a better understanding of the Neapolitan dialect, I realized my first exposure to the pronunciation of words and particular vowel and consonant sounds was through these nicknames. 

 

As one is introduced to the sounds of letters and listens to the particularities of a language, this may lead to fluency. In fact, even before my earliest memory, I probably heard Italian spoken even as an infant. I would argue therefore, that once I had some cognitive development with the language especially as a small boy, through the various sounds of these nicknames, I developed a foundation for the Neapolitan dialect and can communicate even today in my father’s native language.

 

 As an educator and member of the American Society of Geolinguistics, an organization that is dedicated to onomastic research, I try to read the most current studies pertaining to language acquisition in infants and adolescents.  Janet Werker, a professor of psychology at the University of British Columbia explained in a New York Times article, “babies are exposed to the rhythms and sounds of language, and newborns have been shown to prefer languages rhythmically similar to the one they’ve heard during fetal development.” In addition, psychologist and linguist Thierry Nazzi, concurs with the idea that if infants are exposed to various modulations of a language it becomes much easier for children to become bilingual.

 

He declares, “Indeed, it was found that newborns can discriminate foreign languages, if and only, if they belong to different rhythmic classes, and even when the confounding factor of intonation is eliminated.” Hence, the study of nicknaming in this case, through the Neapolitan dialect may be an interesting way to expose and motivate children to the sounds and syntax of another language. Who knew nicknames would have such an impact on a little boy.