Category: Connotative personal names

Sne ’snow’ – a weather-related first name

By Birgit Eggert

The name Sne is identical to the Danish common noun sne, meaning ‘snow’. It was approved as a Danish female given name in 2007 and is therefore a relatively recent addition in Danish naming; accordingly, it had only 32 bearers as a first name in early January 2026.

Sne forms part of a broader trend in which personal names increasingly coincide with ordinary lexical items and therefore carry a semantic meaning that traditional names such as Jens, Hans, Karen, and Mette do not possess.

Although names such as Bjørn (bjørn ‘bear’), Karl (karl, originally ‘free man’, now ‘(young) man who works as a helper on a farm’) and Svend (svend, originally ‘young man, servant’, now ‘person who has trained as a craftsman and is employed in a company’) have been used in Danish naming since the Viking Age, we are not particularly accustomed to given names being identical to ordinary lexical items in the Danish language. Names such as Hans and Mette therefore have no inherent dictionary meaning in contemporary Danish, but function primarily as references to the individuals who bear them.

Most names do, however, carry a range of associated meanings—connotations—which nonetheless communicate something about the name-bearer. These may relate to age, gender, nationality, religious affiliation, and much more. There is in Denmark, for instance, likely to be an age difference between Bent and Noah, and a nationality difference between Helle and Fumiko.

When one uses a name that is identical to an ordinary lexical item, however, a dictionary meaning is carried along with it, and such a name can therefore signal additional layers of meaning—just as is the case with the winter‑related name Sne.

Names derived from words denoting weather conditions

Thus, the act of naming carries social identity attached to the chosen name, and when parents name their children, they may therefore use names as a means of social positioning through the connotations that accompany them. By selecting names that resemble words from the general vocabulary, it becomes possible to signal a message or a value embedded in the meaning of the word that the name mirrors.

A number of approved given names are identical to words denoting weather conditions. Examples include Rim (‘frost’) and Sky (’cloud’, or English sky) which are unisex names, as well as the aforementioned Sne, which is approved as a female name. These three names have come into use as girls’ names over the past thirty years, and although they are not widely used, they nonetheless form part of a broader trend observed in recent decades: an increase in the use of names that resemble words for weather phenomena, animals, and plants.

Figure 1: Diagram showing the number of bearers of the names Rim, Sky, and Sne among newborn girls. Rim and Sky also occur as boys’ names, but the number of male bearers is too small to be included in the diagram (K = female namebearer). Figure from Statistics Denmark.

A far more widespread name related to weather phenomena is Storm. It is used as both a male and a female given name in Denmark, although it is particularly common as a boys’ name. Its popularity increased from around the turn of the millennium and throughout the following decade, and it has remained a fashionable name ever since. As of 2025, it continues to appear firmly on Statistics Denmark’s top‑50 list of the most popular names for newborn boys.

Figure 2: Diagram showing the number of bearers of the name Storm. The blue line indicates its use as a boys’ name, while the green line — which only rises slightly after 2021 — indicates its use as a girls’ name (M = male namebearer; K = female namebearer). Figure from Statistics Denmark.

Names related to climate awareness

Given names for newborn children largely reflect the period in which they are bestowed, and naming fashions shift regularly. The first names that were common in the 1990s are therefore markedly different from those prevalent in the 2020s. As noted above, one increasing trend in recent years is the approval of a growing number of new given names that are identical to familiar lexical items in the wider language. This may reflect a heightened desire to position oneself socially through the connotations carried by such names.

The study from which the figures for Rim, Sky, Sne, and Storm are drawn was published in the book Klima i litteratur, sprog og medier (2025). It shows that there has been an increase in given names whose forms resemble words associated with weather phenomena, animals, and plants in their semantic content. This increase began around the turn of the millennium, but has been particularly evident since approximately 2010. Although individual names of this type are rarely especially frequent in their own right, the trend is clear when they are considered collectively as groups.

The hypothesis advanced in the study is that naming newborn children with this type of given name reflects the broader rise in public attention to climate issues in recent decades, and that this increased awareness has contributed to the perception of these natural elements as valuable and worthy of protection. The use of such names may therefore be an indication of growing climate consciousness in recent years—not necessarily because parents consciously choose ‘climate‑aware’ names for their children, but because the connotations evoked by these types of names are positive and point to something precious and valuable.

References

This is an adapted English version of Sne – et vejrrelateret pigenavn published on December 1st 2025.

What’s in a Name? Historical Socioonomastic Research in Dialect Dictionaries

A case study in Danish personal names from Feilberg’s dialect dictionary

By Peder Gammeltoft

What can a dialect dictionary tell us about how people felt about a name – and those who bore it? Quite a lot, it turns out. H. F. Feilberg’s monumental Bidrag til en ordbog over jyske almuesmål (1886–1914), a dictionary of rural Jutish dialects, is in fact far more than a lexicon. The entries are often an encyclopedia of folklore, folk poetry, and folk belief. But it also offers something rarer: an unfiltered record of social attitudes of a speech community.

Let us take a look at the entries in which Per or Peder, the Danish forms of Peter, occur. Across several pages, Feilberg (II.797ff) documents a rich constellation of compounds, proverbs, rhymes, and expressions that reveal how Jutish speakers used this common name to encode social judgments, sexual humor, and folk wisdom.

The personal name Peter, with its variants Peder, Per and Peer, is taken to be the most popular Danish male personal name for the last 1000 years, owing to the strong biblical significance. The name itself derives from Greek petros (Πέτρος), meaning ‘rock, stone’, siginifying solidity and stability. However, the name Peter’s very popularity seemingly brought an air of ordinariness, which made it available for typecasting.

The Clueless Everyman and a Guide of People

In Feilberg, Peder Tot (or Tåt) designated a weak, characterless person – as one saying put it, someone who does neither good nor bad. Peder Tratte marked a fool; Peder Gante a simpleton, just to mention a few. In these compounds, Peder becomes a Jutish synonym for an everyman – a blank slate onto which the speech community projected mediocrity, indecision, and haplessness.

 The name also attached to non-human referents in ways that complicate any simple reading. For instance, Peder Smut and Peder i gjærdet were terms used of the bird wren, that tiny brown bird beloved in European folklore for its cleverness despite its size. And Peders pig (”Peter’s arrow, stick”) designated three stars in Orion’s belt – signifying a means of guidance like Saint Peter’s staff for Christians and the belt of Orion for travellers.

These associations suggest something more than mockery. Here, Peder is the name of the familiar, the domestic, the small but persistent – a symbol of everyday rural life rather than heroic endeavor.

Theater of the Obscene

Yet the dictionary also preserves a contrasting dimension. In children’s rhymes, figures such as Peder Ronnevæder and Peder Ronølbok appear repeatedly. To the uninitiated, these look like nonsense words – playful sound-patterns for young voices. But dialect knowledge reveals their bawdy meaning: Jutish ronne means ‘to fuck’, whereas rontle means ‘to whore, fuck’. Peder Ronnevæder is literally “Peder the fucking ram”, although the meaning stated in Feilberg (III.78) is just “a ram, male among the sheep”. Similarly, the literal meaning of Peder Ronølbok is “Peder the whoring buck” (Feilberg III.79). Here Peder becomes a vehicle for robust, sexual farmyard humor – linked to virile male animals in explicitly carnal terms. The rhymes were passed down; the dialect word faded; the dirty joke was preserved in innocence.

Bearing the name of Peder myself – and of Jutish descent – I was myself subjected to teasing with a rhyme of Peder Ronnevæder that went like this:

Pej’er, Pe’ væj’er, Pe’ ronnevæj’er
Fløw op i æ væj’er o en stur støk’ læj’er
Æ læj’er fløw væk, å Pej’er fåll ni’er
Pej’er, Pe’ væj’er, Pe’ ronnevæj’er.

Translation:
Peter, Peter the ram, Peter the fucking ram / Flew up in the air on a large piece of leather / The leather blew away, and Peter fell down / Peter, Peter the ram, Peter the fucking ram.

As a kid I did not know what the meaning of the rhyme was, but I could see in the smirks of the adults that I was somehow made fun of and that it was naughty in some way. It wasn’t until I actually encountered the entry in Feilberg, that it dawned on me that the rhyme was a veiled verse on fornication.

Questionable Characters

Peder could also be morally suspect. The children’s rhymes preserve a Peder who steals: one verse tells of Peder who “stole a cat on Christmas Eve” (han stål æn kat, julənat), roasted and ate it. Another, more audaciously, has Peder fly up into the sky and steal a sausage from Our Lord himself (stål æn pøls fra Våhær)—and when God came with a knife, Peder had already swallowed the evidence. These are comic thefts, to be sure, but they cast Peder as the petty pilferer, the cunning rogue.

More sinister is the tale of Peder Nittengryn (“Peter Nineteen-grains”) embodies a different vice: miserliness. Feilberg records that the Aalborg merchant “Little Per” sold only nineteen grains for a shilling during a famine in Norway and thus earned the name. Here Peder is the exploiter – the man who profits from others’ hunger.

What Dialect Dictionaries Preserve

The methodological lesson here is significant. Folklore collections, not constrained by Victorian propriety and focused on narrative genres, often captured scattered, incidental, sometimes obscene material. Feilberg, documented this by including proverbial expressions, children’s rhymes, and figurative compounds that might otherwise have been passed over in embarrassed silence.

The result is an unexpectedly rich source for socioonomastics – the study of social attitudes toward names. Dictionary entries for words containing personal names capture how naming practices are intersected with social judgment, sexual humor, folk astronomy, and the texture of rural life. They preserve long-forgotten attitudes and associations that more formal documentation often missed.