Nook of Names Pick of the Week — Elysia

With Llewellyn’s Complete Book of Names at last completed and gone forth into the big bad world, this week’s pick of the week — the lovely and evocative Elysia — is a thank you to Llewellyn’s Elysia Gallo, who, throughout the whole process of writing and editing, was so supportive, helpful and encouraging.

I have to say, I am very jealous of Elysia’s name — and I absolutely love it. As a girl’s name, it is found in the records from the seventeenth century, though it is clear that, especially in many early cases, it was mixed up with Alicia —  sometimes also Eliza.

But it is also clear that for others, the association intended was clearly Elysium…

Elysium itself is the Latin form of the Greek Êlusion.

This is the name the Ancient Greeks gave to the part of the Underworld reserved for heroes, righteous individuals selected by the Gods, and initiates of the mystery cults, particularly the Mysteries of Eleusis.

It is probable, but not certain, that Elysium and Eleusis share the same origin. And, if not, they have certainly been blurred together since ancient times.

The Eleusinian Mysteries are probably the best-known of the ancient Mystery cults; they are, indeed, the Mysteries. Centred on the small town of Eleusis in Attica, and within walking distance of Athens, the focus of the Mysteries were Demeter and Persephone, in her maiden aspect, Kore.

Unfortunately, the exact rites, rituals and beliefs of the initiated are, quite literally, a mystery. Absolute secrecy regarding practices and beliefs among initiates was a major component, and they those ancient initiates took their secrets with them to Elysium.

However, enough clues do survive, in the form of oblique references, and archaeological remains, including wall-paintings and mosaics, for scholars across the ages to have pieced together some of it.

The rites included fasting, consumption of ritual drink, the showing of special objects, the re-enactment of the myth of Demeter and Persephone, and revelation of secrets.

To reveal those secrets to a non-initiate, the penalty was death.

It is thought that the Eleusinian Mysteries date back to Mycenaean times (i.e. the second millennium BCE); in decline from the second century, they were banned by the new Christian elite in 396 CE.

The etymology of Eleusis and Elysium are as shrouded as the practices — though by passage of immense time, rather than by design.

The most obvious derivation of Eleusis is from the Greek erkhomai “to come.” Eleusis “coming,” is also a variant of the noun êlusis, which carries the prosaic meaning of “step.”

But a credible and alluring alternative explanation is that its actual origins lie with another Greek word — enêlusios “struck by lightning”; ta enêlusia was a name given to places set apart from worldly uses because they had been struck by lightning.

A further intriguing option is that the roots of Elysium actually lie with the Egyptian: jArw “rush,” a reference to sxt-jArw the “fields of rushes,” which was a similar concept to Elysium in Egyptian religion, ruled over by Osiris.

Given the long history of trade between Greece and Egypt, it is perfectly plausible that this notion would find its way into the Greek belief system.

Both Greek and Latin have adjectival forms of Elysium — Greek êlusios, Latin Elysius. They were used of Elysium and its queen, Persephone, and are often translated as “Elysian,” most famously in the expression Elysian Fields, a translation of the Latin campi Elysii.

In English today, “Elysia” is frequently used interchangeably with “Elysium.” Although its original use was quite specific, it has come into general use to mean “paradise,” passing, largely without hint of irony, into Christian language and iconography too.

As well as Elysia herself, Elysian makes a noteworthy name choice — and could also be used for a boy, as could Elysion, the usual Anglicized form of the original Greek Êlusion, which is sometimes found (mostly in poetry) as a variant spelling of Elysium.

As a name, there are a number of variant spellings, such as Elisia, Elizia and Elyzia. Elyse also wanders into the category, demonstrating the distinct blurring at the edges between Elysia with Alicia, Alice, Elise, Eliza and Lisa.

Certainly, Elysia presents an unusual, meaningful but also very contemporary alternative to those names, especially for a Pagan parent looking for a name with deep and strong Pagan roots.

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Nook’s Pick of the Grannies

There are distint signs now that the pace is gathering in the rehabilitation of names long consigned to granny (or rather great-granny status, as most grannies nowadays are called things like Carol and Susan, and true “granny names” are at least a generation further back).

The trend’s roots actually go back to the seventies and eighties, when the first batch of “Victorian” names started to come back into use. Principal among them have been Emily, Emma, Isabella and Olivia, on both sides of the Atlantic.

In Britain, too, this was the era when names which are only now really capturing the hearts of Americans, such as Alice, Amelia, Beatrice/Beatrix, Charlotte, Matilda and Eleanor (with its pet-form Ellie actually more popular than Eleanor herself), also returned to bask in the sun of popularity.

These could be classed the great-great-granny names; the names borne by the women who went on to name their daughters Lily and Grace, Florence and Evelyn.

This generation began to make a come-back in the nineties.

Some like Lily and Grace are already now thoroughly acclimatized. Some, like Florence, Daisy, Poppy and Ruby, are already considered mainstream in the UK, and are so talked about in the US, it can only be a matter of not very much time before they’re top 100 there too. Others, like Edith, Olive and Maud, are regaining attention.

But there’s a whole Devon cream tea shop’s worth of other delicious and tempting options, and these are the ones I think deserve to be brought back down from the attic.

Agatha — I deliberated quite some time about whether to include Agatha, as she’s never actually been very common at all. However, perhaps largely down to Aunt Agatha in the Jeeves stories, she has acquired a distinctly granny edge, and there certainly were more Agathas around in 1910 than 2010! She’s a name I’ll feature on her own some time, as, personally, I love her, and there’s so much to say about her, but I just couldn’t neglect her here, because of my life-long love of all things Agatha Christie…

Agnes — a staple not just of the Victorians and the early twentieth century, Agnes was one of the most popular girls’ names of the medieval and early modern period too. She was under a cloud in the eighteenth century, and again in the twentieth. She is so rich in history, mythology and allusions that she has a post of her own, scheduled for St Agnes’ Eve. But it would be a travesty to not give her a mention here, especially as celeb baby Agnes Lark might well have been the catalyst she needed to spark interest again.

Annie — actually truly belongs  to the great-great granny era, being most in decline since 1881 (when she was ranked 8th). The musical and film arrested her decline in the late seventies and early eighties, but unlike her siblings, she then went back into decline. Her fate may have changed, but at present she still seems to be dithering in the low 300s. Although treated as a pet-form of Ann/Anne, there’s no reason not to consider her a name in her own right, as she’s been used as such so long, and is actually a bit closer to the original Hebrew Hannah, sharing two syllables, rather than just the one.

Blanche — never all that common; like Annie, it hovered in the fifties in the late nineteenth century. Short, elegant, with a long and distinguished history back to medieval times, Blanche makes a worthy alternative to those one-syllable names which are now growing tired, like Claire, Brooke, and Paige.

Doris — in America, one of the darlings of the twenties. This pretty Greek name is definitely ready for revival.

Elsie — already back on the radar and rising, sweet Elsie — usually considered a Scottish short-form of Elizabeth — is also an English surname and essentially the modern form of the Old English Ælfsige “elf-victory.” It’s a must for revival in the UK, slipping comfortably into that established group of friends, Sophie, Evie, Maisie, Ellie, Millie, Katie, Gracie, and Rosie, etc…

Ethel — Ethel’s take up in Victorian times was as a short-form of the numerous girls’ names which featured it as a first element, particularly Etheldred/Etheldreda and Ethelinda. But it is essentially the modern English form of the Old English æthel “noble,” and its German cognate Athalia was used as a name in its own right in medieval times, becoming the English Adela and French Adele. As the name of Lily Allen’s new baby, there are indications are that people are starting to see Ethel — for so long almost the quintessential great-granny name — in a new light. After all, it does combine those softest and most romantic sounds: eth and el…

Freda — Use in the last couple of centuries originated, like Ethel, as a short form of longer names, particularly Winifred and Alfreda. However, also like Ethel, it stands up as a name in its own right, with frithu  meaning “peace” in Old English. Its Norse cognate is found as a name in medieval times: Friða. It survived in Scandinavia as Frida. The Germanic Frieda has also long been used as a variant. Freda is also found in the name of a lwa (divinity) of Haitian Voodoo —   Erzulie Fréda — though in her case, Fréda is probably West African in origin.

Gertrude — My grandmother had the unusual name of Gayther — but was almost universally known as Gertie, the usual nick-name of Gertrude. For a time it was also treated as the archetypal name of a student of my alma mater, Girton College, Cambridge (the shared initial “ger” sound, no doubt). It was also borne by another of my historic heroines, the archaeologist Gertrude Bell. With the strong meaning of “spear-strength,” Gertrude was hugely popular for a time in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and has a distinctly “no-nonsense” air about her. But she does shorten to the gentle Trudy, tom-boyish Gerry and contemporary Tru, as well as the as well that ever-cheerful Gertie…

Gladys — up there with Ethel, Gladys (Gwladys in the original Welsh) is another name that I think only needs a nudge for people to start to think, “why not?” Either the Welsh form of Claudia, or an elaboration of gwlad “country.” After all, there are a number of names ending in, or prominently featuring the “is” sound, such as Alexis, Alice, Allison, Genesis, Melissa, Marissa, Iris, Isis, Paris, Carys, and Cerys, etc. Nor is Gladys actually all that far away from Madison and Addison when you think about it…

Ida — Ida is another that was at her most popular in the late nineteenth century and is long overdue reconsideration; she’s already making steady progress in the UK, and since the very similar Ada is clearly on the up in the US, why not Ida too? Ida was found in Britain in medieval times, though in the Victorian period it was most associated with the nymph of the mountain which shared her name, who was said to have raised the infant Zeus. There’s a whole lot more to Ida, and I intend to feature her as a pick of the week, but she certainly deserves a mention here.

Irene — As the usual English form of the Greek Eirene “peace”, Irene is mostly pronounced with two-syllables, but three is not unknown. With two fresh dramatisations of the Sherlock Holmes takes around at the moment — the big screen Robert Downey, Jr version and the sparkling and clever British television one staring Benedict Cumberbatch — the character of Irene Adler will no doubt be working her magic on how people perceive Irene.

Mabel — The bells should be ringing loudly for Mabel. Roll it around the tongue — “May bell”. How pretty is that? Already rediscovered in certain British circles (ranking 386 in 2010), she vanished in America from the top 1000 in 1960 and has yet to resurface. Mabel originated in the Middle Ages as a shorter form of Amabel.

Mildred — I’ve always had a soft spot of the charming Mildred, an Old English gem meaning “mild/gentle counsel.” Featured as a Witch of the Week here.

Nellie — traditional pet-form of Eleanor, but also used of Helen and Ellen. For a long time Nellie fell under the cloud about the popular song, but it is breaking away now and with that popular “-ie” ending, and those letter “l”s, Nellie has a lot of personality.

Olga — one of my first ever name loves. One of the Russian names that came into fashion in the late nineteenth century, Olga is not actually Russian in origin at all; it is the Russian form of Scandinavian Helga “holy.” Olga was never particularly common, peaking in the US in 1916 in 130th spot.

Opal — a nineteenth century adoption of the name of the precious stone, which derives ultimately from the Sanskrit upala “stone.”  It peaked in the US in 81st place in 1911, and dwindled into obscurity by 1900. Believed by the ancients to be the tears of joy wept by Zeus following his victory over the Titans, in more recent centuries black opals in particular have gained an association with witches.

Pearl — at first used as a nickname — like Daisy — for girls called Margaret, Pearl was in independent use by the mid nineteenth century. It actually peaked by 1890, but remained in the top 100 until 1927. It is just starting to show signs of renewed interest, but there’s still a long way to go.

Phyllis — another pretty “-is” name which has been too long neglected now. It derives from Greek phullon “leaf” (with phullis itself meaning “salad.”).

Vera — Vera is another name of Russian origin, meaning “faith,” though it is identical to the Latin vera, the feminine form of verus “true,” which is the source of the vera of the wonderful Aloe vera. Another of my personal heroines is the British writer and pacificst Vera Brittain. Vera was never particularly common in the US, but has recently started to show signs that its fortunes are changing.

Next week, I’ll take a look at the Grandpas…

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The Ultimate British Sibset — the children of Queen Victoria

Last Friday, I speculated on the names of the first child of William and Kate, and, inevitably, Victoria was high on the list.

It is a little ironic that Victoria would now be considered a very traditional and conventional choice for a royal baby.

That wasn’t true when Victoria was named; Victoria — Latin for “victory” — was a rare name in Britain at the time, although it had been in use since the sixteenth century, one of the names plucked from Classical Antiquity. For to the Romans, Victoria was the personification of victory, and worshipped as a Goddess.

Why did Victoria receive such a name? Because that’s what her mother was called. She was Marie Louise Viktoria of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfield.

It wasn’t actually Queen Victoria’s first name, either. That was Alexandrina, after Tsar Alexander I of Russia.

Something else that is mildly ironic is the fact that since Victoria died, only one member of the royal family has received a name which had not been previously borne by a prince or princess of England or the United Kingdom — and that is Andrew. Yet Victoria herself actually made quite a point of breaking with tradition in the naming of her own children.

And her family makes a most interesting sibset.

Oldest of Queen Vicky’s children, born in 1840, was the Princess Royal, Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa. Victoria was not just in honor of the Queen, but also the Queen’s mother, who was one of the little princess’s godmothers — the others being Adelaide, the wife of Victoria’s uncle, King William IV, and Mary, Duchess of Gloucester, one of the daughters of King George III. Louisa was the name of Prince Albert’s mother. Princess Victoria married Kaiser Friedrich III in 1858, and was the mother of Kaiser Wilhelm II. She died aged only 48, in 1888.

Second was Albert Edward, born in 1841, who ruled as King Edward VII. In naming the heir to the throne such, Victoria caused quite a stir at the prospect of a future King Albert. That had, indeed, been Victoria’s wish; Edward himself chose to rule as Edward upon his succession. He was named after his father, Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, and Victoria’s father, Edward, Duke of Kent, who had died when she was only a baby.

The third child was the tragic Princess Alice, later Grand Duchess of Hesse, whose full name was Alice Maud Mary. Alice, like Albert, had never been borne by a member of the Royal Family before. It is said it was suggested by the Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne, who was close to Victoria. Likewise Maud was also a break with tradition, demonstrating Victoria’s medieval tastes, though it was a nod to one of Princess Alice’s godparents, Princess Sophia Matilda of Gloucester (Maud, as most folk know, being a medieval form of Matilda). She was born in 1843, and died in 1878, aged just 35, of diptheria, a month after her four year old daughter had also died of the disease.

Her family was particularly ill-fated; her two-year-old son had died a few years earlier after a fall from a window, while two of her daughters died in the Russian Revolution. Alix (later the Tsarina Alexandra) was famously shot with her family in a basement in 1917. Elizabeth, who married Grand Duke Sergei of Russia, was brutally murdered in 1918 along with other members of the imperial family. They were thrown down a mineshaft, grenades thrown in after them, and left to die.

Fourth of Queen Victoria’s children was Alfred Ernest Albert, later Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. Known as Affie, he was the second British prince to be called Alfred since the time of King Alfred; the first was one of the younger sons of King George III. He had died in infancy. Ernest was another new name in the British royal family — an import from Germany. It was the name of Prince Albert’s brother. Alfred was born in 1844, and died in 1900.

Queen Victoria’s fifth child was Princess Helena, later Princess Christian of Schleswig-Holstein. Born in 1846, her full name was Helena Augusta Victoria. Helena was another new name for the royal family; she was named after one of her godparents, Hélène, Duchess of Orleans. Augusta was likewise in honor of a godparent, Augusta, Duchess of Cambridge. Princess Helena lived to quite a good age, dying in 1923 at the age of 77.

Sixth of Queen Victoria’s progeny was Princess Louise, later Duchess of Argyll. Born in 1848, her full, correct name was Louisa Caroline Alberta. Though baptised Louisa, she was always known as Louise. Caroline had been the name of King George IV’s estranged wife, and Alberta was, of course, in honor of her father. She lived to the ripe old age of 91, dying in Kensington Palace in 1939.

The Seventh child was Prince Arthur, later Duke of Connaught and Strathearn. He was born in 1850, and also lived to be 91, dying in 1942. His full name was Arthur William Patrick Albert. Arthur was very much a choice in line with Victorian fashion, and its love of all things Arthurian. He wasn’t the first prince to bear the name — but it had been a long time since the last: Arthur, Prince of Wales, the oldest son of King Henry VII, who died aged 15 in 1502. One of the Duke of Connaught’s godparents, however, was the Duke of Wellington, whose name was, surprise surprise — Arthur. He also shared the prince’s birthday. The choice of William was in honor of both King William IV and another of Prince Arthur’s godparents, Wilhelm, then Crown Prince of Prussia, and later Kaiser Wilhelm I (he later became the Princess Royal’s father-in-law). No British prince had ever been called Patrick before, and its choice was in homage to Ireland — it was no coincidence Prince Arthur was made Duke of Connaught.

Prince Leopold was the penultimate child; later made Duke of Albany, his full name was Leopold George Duncan Albert. Leopold, another new name in the royal family tree, was in honor of the King of Belgium, whose first wife was Princess Charlotte of Wales, daughter and heiress of King George IV, whose death in childbirth led to King George’s unmarried sons scrambling to marry and produce a new heir to the throne (which led to Queen Victoria’s birth). Leopold also happened to be the uncle of both Victoria and Albert; Victoria’s mother was his sister, and Albert’s father was his brother.  George was actually in honor of his godfather, King George V of Hanover, grandson of King George III. Leopold received the name Duncan in the same way Arthur acquired Patrick; the Dukedom of Albany had once been borne by heirs to the throne of Scotland. Leopold had the shortest life of all Victoria’s children; he was a haemophiliac and may also have epilepsy. He died in 1884, aged 30.

The youngest of Queen Victoria’s children was Beatrice Mary Victoria Feodore, later Princess Henry of Battenberg. Beatrice was yet another name new to the royal family — as was Feodore. Mary was once more in honor of Mary, Duchess of Cambridge, and Feodore was after Victoria’s older half-sister, Anna Feodora of Leiningen. Feodore is one way in which the Russian form of Theodora is transliterated into the Latin alphabet from the Cyrillic. Beatrice was born in 1859, and lived to be 87. She was the last of Victoria’s children to die, passing on in 1944.

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Les Prénoms Provençaux

For the last month, I have been in France — for much of that time, in Provence.

It is a region with a much deserved reputation for spectacular scenery and picturesque villages. In the region where we stayed, these clung as though by magic to impossibly steep hillsides gazing idly down dramatic gorges, draped in pines, evergreen oaks, olives and vines.

It is also an exceedingly historic region, always set a bit apart from the rest of France. Once, the people didn’t even spoke French, but Provençal, a dialect of Occitan — a language closer to Catalan than to French — although Provençal is sometimes used to refer to Occitan in general, and the langue d’Oc of medieval troubadours.

Unsurprisingly, it has a whole collection of names and variants of names unique to the region.

And it was in Provence that names like Isabella and Eleanor first arose.

During our stay, I kept my ears open, but was disappointed that, by and large, the names I encountered — particularly among the children — were little different to the rest of France. The fashion in France at present is for names of foreign origin, and the favored region for more unusual native monikers is Brittany.

But we did encounter some, especially among my own generation.

I love the fact so many Provençal girls names end in -o; it makes a refreshing change, and is very contemporary.

Here is a selection of my personal favorites. Some, like Zouè, are relatively recent — others, like Azalaïs, are medieval.

GIRLS:

• Agato — Agatha
• Aïs — diminutive of ANAÏS and/or ALAÏS
• Alaïs — Alice (features in Kate Mosse’s 2005 novel Labyrinth); ultimately from Adelaide
• Alienor — Eleanor
• Anaïs — in Provence, used as a form of Anne or Agnes — not actually found prior to the nineteenth century
• Anetoun — a double diminutive form of Ano (Anne)
• Azalaïs — Adelaide (Alice)
• Babeleto — diminutive of Eisabèu/Isabèu (Elizabeth/Isabella)
  
• Bergido — Birgitte
• Bielo — diminutive of Gabrielo (Gabrielle)
• Bregido — Bridget
• Celino — Celine
• Chantaloun — diminutive of French Chantal
• Clareto, Claroun — diminutives of Claro
• Claro — Clare/Claire
• Cloutildou — Clotilda
• Delaïdo — diminutive of Adelaïdo (Adelaide)
• Eliso — diminutive of French Élisabeth (Elizabeth)
• Estefano — Stephanie
• Fanfan — probably a diminutive of ESTEFANO. Made fairly well-known (at least in France) by the 1952 film Fanfan la tulipe (remade in 2003) — in which Fanfan is a man — and Alexandre Jardin’s 1985 novel Fanfan, filmed in 1993.
• Fino — diminutive of Delfino (Delphine) and/or JÒUSEFINO
• Flour — Flora/Fleur
• Glaudio — Claudia
• Ioulando — Yolande
• Janetoun — double diminutive of Jano (Jane/Jeanne)
• Jòusefino — Josephine (the name of our villa’s housekeeper!)
• Jóuselet — variant/diminutive of JÒUSEFINO
• Laïdo — diminutive of DELAÏDO
• Lali, Lalìo — diminutives of Eulalìo (Eulalia/Eulalie)
• Laloun — diminutive of LALI
• Lìo — diminutive of names ending in -lìo, such as Eulalìo (Eulalia/Eulalie), Natalìo (Natalie), Rosalìo (Rosalie)
• Lisoun — diminutive of ELISO
• Lodi, Loudi — diminutive of Eloudìo (Elodie)
• Madaloun — diminutive of Madaleno (Madeline)
• Magali, Magari — probably Magaret, but possibly a variant of Madaleno (Madeline — from the original Magdalene)
• Maïoun — diminutive of Marìo (Mary/Marie)
• Marioun — diminutive of Marìo (Mary/Marie)
• Melio — Emilia
• Mirèio — coined by the poet Frederic Mistral for his poem Mirèio (1859). From the Occitan mirar “to admire.”
• Naïs — diminutive of ANAÏS
• Ninoun — pet-form of Catarino (Katherine)
• Rieto — pet-form of Enrieto (Henrietta)
• Roso – Rose
• Soufio – Sophia/Sophie
• Soulanjo – Solange
• Talìo — diminutive of Natalìo (Natalie)
• Teldou, Tildeto — diminutives of names containing –tild– or –teld-, like CLOUTILDOU
• Vitòri – Victoria
• Valorì — Valeria/Valerie
• Zeto, Zetou — diminutives of JÒUSEFINO
• Zouè — Zoe

BOYS:

• Amiel – said to be the Provençal form of French Emile
• Audouard – Edward
• Bartoumiéu – Bartholomew
• Berenguié — Berenger
• Calendau — from the Latin kalends, used of the first day of a month and, in Provence, for Christmas Day.  The hero of Mistral’s poem Calendau (1867)
• Charle — Charles
• Charloun — diminutive of CHARLE
• Ciprianet — diminutive of Ciprian (Cyprian)
  
• Dàvi — David
• Deri — diminutive of Frederi/Federi (Frederick)
• Dovi — dimunituve of Ludovi (Ludovick/Louis)
• Estève, Estiène – Stephen
• Gabrieù – Gabriel
• Glaude, Glàudi — Claude, Claudius
• Jaufret — Geoffrey
• Jaume — James
  
• Jòrgi — George
• Lu — Luke
• Luquet — pet-form of LU
• Maïus — curious name of uncertain origin. In use in Provence since at least the late nineteenth century. Possibly conceived as a masculine form of MAÏOUN.
• Mas — Max
• Miquèu – Michael
• Oulivié — Oliver
• Pascau – Pascal
• Pèire — Peter/Pierre
• Pierroun — diminutive of French Pierre
• Rafèu – Raphael
• Roubin — Robin (yes, the English Robin — one of the foreign names embraced by the French in the twentieth century)
• Savié — probably Xavier, but possibly Savior (best known as a name in the Spanish form Salvador)
• Silvan — Silvanus
• Simoun — Simon
• Teoudor – Theodore
• Titoù – Either Titus or a diminutive of Batit (Baptist)
• Titoun — diminutive of TITOÙ
• Toumas — Thomas
• Ugue, Ugues — Hugh
• Vincèn – Vincent
• Vitour – Victor
• Zavié — variant of SAVIÉ
• Zé — diminutive of Joùseù (Joseph)

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Baltic Babies

It is twenty years ago today that the United States recognized the independence of the Baltic States of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia from the former USSR.

Seems like a good opportunity to take a look at what people are calling their babies in the Baltics!

Lithuanian and Latvian are closely related languages — both belong to the Baltic family. Linguists regard Lithuanian as the modern language which most closely resembles Proto-Indo-European.

Estonian, meanwhile, is a Finnic language, related — oddly enough — to Finnish.

Lithuania’s top ten in 2010 was as follows:

Girls:

1. Emilija — Emilia/Emily
2. Gabija — Lithuanian Goddess of fire
3. Ugnė — ‘fire’
4. Austėja — Lithuanian Goddess of bees
5. Urtė — uncertain. Possibly Lithuanian form of Urd — the Norse Goddess of fate (itself from Old Norse urðr ‘fate’ and ‘uncanny’, though there are numerous other suggestions
6. Kamilė — Camilla
   
7. Gabrielė — Gabriella/Gabrielle
8. Goda — probably arose as a short form of names beginning God-; now is interpreted as deriving from old Lithuanian words meaning ‘dream’ and ‘glory’.
9. Rugilė — from rugys ‘rye’
10. Miglė — from migla ‘mist’.

Boys:

1. Matas — short form of Motiejus — Matthew; matas also means ‘measure’
2. Lukas — Luke
3. Dovydas — David
4. Nojus — Noah
5. Kajus — Gaius
6. Jokūbas — Jacob
7. Dominykas — Dominic
8. Augustas — Augustus
9. Mantas — of uncertain origin; possibly simply mantas ‘treasure’, or from manta ‘property’, ‘goods’, or mantus ‘friendly’, ‘clever’, ‘beautiful’
10. Gustas — either Lithuanian form of Gustav, or a short form of AUGUSTAS. Also gustas ‘taste’ and ‘desire’.

Latvia’s looks like this:

Girls:

1. Sofija — Sophia/Sophie
2. Alise — Alice
3. Viktorija — Victoria
4. Anastasija — Anastasia
5. Marta — Martha
6. Anna — Anna/Ann(e)
7. Evelīna — Evelina/Evelyn
8. Emīilija — Emilia/Emily
9. Laura
10. Katrīna — Katherine

Boys:

1. Roberts — Robert
2. Gustavs — Gustav
3. Markuss — Mark/Marcus
4. Maksims — Maxim/Maximus
5. Daniels — Daniel
6. Artjoms — Artemius ‘belonging to (the Goddess) Artemis; the name of a saint venerated in the Eastern Orthodox Church. The Russian form is Artyom (it is also the source of the boy’s name Artemis, made famous by Artemis Fowl)
7. Aleksanders — Alexander
8. Ričards — Richard
9. Ralfs — Ralph
10. Artūrs — Arthur

And lastly, but not leastly, Estonia. Rather harder to pin down, but apparently, these were the most popular names in June 2011:

Girls:

1. Laura
2. Mia
3. Sofia — Sophie/Sophia
4. Maria — Maria/Mary
5. Alisa — Alice
6. Milana — could be an adoption of the Slavic Milana, feminine of Milan < mil ‘gracious,’ ‘dear’ and ‘beloved’, or an Estonian take on Melanie, or even Magdalene (Malin is a Finnish name derived from the last).
7. Aleksandra — Alexandra
8. Kertu — Gertrude
9. Annabel
10. Darja — Daria

Boys:

1. Oliver — Oliver
2. Rasmus — Erasmus
3. Maksim — Maxim/Maximus
4. Romet — modern name of uncertain meaning; possibly deriving from rõõmu ‘joy’
5. Daniel
6. Daniil — Daniel
7. Henri — Henry
8. Karl — Charles/Karl
9. Sander — Alexander
10. Markus — Mark/Marcus

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