A strip of paper I’d torn out from somewhere fell out of one of my books the other day as I took it off the shelf. On it was this quote attributed to Erica Jong (no source given): “To change one’s name is the first act of the poet and the revolutionary.” I know that, years ago, when I chose to go by Nina rather than Veneta (my given name) in my personal life, it felt like a relief, a coming out—yes, this is who I am! But I’ve kept Veneta as my professional name, largely because that’s how I originally established myself. I suppose I kept the Erica Jong quote because I was still pondering the idea of names.
I’ve known of writers who publish under one or more pseudonyms—perhaps for different genres, different audiences or a yen for anonymity or intrigue. I’ve toyed with the idea and recently went so far as to settle on a pseudonym I might adopt, then googled it to make sure it wasn’t currently in use. It was—claimed on Facebook by a woman whose photo was so dramatically different from the persona I’d imagined for myself that I dropped the idea immediately. Besides, what was I intending to write under that name? I had no idea.
While googling, I decided to try to source the Erica Jong quote by typing it into the search bar. What came up startled me. The quote now read, “To name oneself is the first act of the poet and the revolutionary.” Still no original source given but Oh! there is a difference here. I realized that I have in fact named myself as poet and, differently, as a private person. Neither is a pseudonym but both affirm my agency and, as I expressed it once in a poem, a settling down deeper into myself.