I’ll admit it honestly: I’ve speculated endlessly about the name of Baudet’s son. Weeks, maybe months. I even calculated, based on an interview in May, when his wife Davide ‘walked every day’ as it used to be called. Count frame. And then just wait.
Would they choose a French name? Antoine, Baptiste, Napoleon? Something from ancient times: Virgil, Ovid, Apollo, Atlas, Hermes, Zeus? Something Nibelungen-esque: Siegfried, Rheingold, Lohengrin? Or something from our Dutch Middle Ages: Elckerlyck, Walewijn, Egidius (Crying on the stairs, in a few years: ‘Egidius, where bestu stayed? You still have to clean up your tin soldiers!)
What did it really matter to me, I wondered meanwhile annoyed. I don’t know Baudet personally at all, and hope to keep it that way. I am usually not interested in famous Dutch people. Then why am I worrying about the name of Baudet’s baby? (Just something old Dutch reading board? Wim, Teun, Gijs?)
Maybe it’s because he’s the first prominent weird right-wing politician to procreate? Wilders has no children, Pim Fortuyn didn’t have them either, nor did Hans Janmaat, I thought (oh yes, the center party! That was still peanuts, actually). But Baudet has announced that he wants to start a large family.
Such an army of owlets from Minerva grows up of course, no, well not The Boys from Brazil think that’s lame. We keep the courage in it. Who knows, those little children (whom I wish all the best, let me put that first) may have a harmonizing influence on their father’s worldview, although unfortunately there are quite a few historical examples to the contrary.
Well, and then the little guy was finally there. “Tell me!” I yelled at my screen. ‘What is his name? Thor? Walewijn? Cesar? Homer?’ And what do you think? Baudet kept that name silent for another 10 days. Ten torturous days! (Castor? Pollux? Remus?!)
We now know. Lancelot. Quite a beautiful name. I know a nice boy with that name. He is called Lance. His sister Guinevere goes through life as Gwin. That’s the problem with those pompous names: it’s just not doable to address a silly baby with them, and then a pet name sneaks in.
Then your name is Abigael or Hadewych, Nebuchadnezzar or Diederik-Jan, but they just call you Binkie, Koko, DJ, Kiek, Puk, Jet, Foppie, Wiske, Boelie, Muis, Maupie, Broer, Lijn 11 or Sjimmie and that’s how you stay the rest of your life.
Lance, so. Great name. Or Lot, of course, but his father will put a stop to that.