The Naming of Cats
T. S. Elliott, 1939
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey—
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter—
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how could he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellyorum—
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover—
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
This popular poem opens a collection of poems introducing various feline personalities—including the mysterious Macavity and the fastidious Bustopher Jones. Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats would later be adapted by Andrew Lloyd-Webber as the long-running Broadway show Cats.
I LOVED this! It is so amusing and thought-provoking. I never knew cat-naming could be so serious! I’m a name-lover so I really enjoyed this poem. (I go so far as to naming my room lamp Penelope, and actually calling her by this name and talking to her – cough – it, I mean.)
I laughed at the part where he says “You may think at first I’m a mad as a hatter.” Are hatters really mad?
I adore the cuteness of “Munkustrap” and get such a passionate tingle for “Quaxo.” (It’s so heroic!) I’d love to name something in the house “Bombalurina,” but can’t figure out what exactly…
If you enjoyed this poem, you should read the entire collection—Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats. It’s delightful fun.
“Mad as a hatter” is an old phrase, and I was interested to discover this possible explanation. Mercury was once used in the curing of felt in hats, and the fumes breathed in by the hatters caused neurological symptoms of confused speech, distorted vision, and disturbed personality. Mercury poisoning was called “mad hatters’ disease.”