Mariella Gattini

The recent passing of Garry Marshall, the creator of many successful TV shows and feature comedies, got me thinking about what there really is in a name. Garry was born in the Bronx, New York, and over the years he turned his last name Masciarelli into Marshall, as he himself admitted years ago. Many artists, like Rita Hayworth (Margarita Carmen Cansino), Raquel Welch (Jo Raquel Tejada), Mel Brooks (Melvin Kaminsky), Woody Allen (Allan Stewart Konigsberg), Louis C.K. (Louis Székely), changed their name, too. Not a big deal, right?

The name we receive when we are born is of the outmost importance, it defines who we are, and where we come from. So why did they do it? Why did they change it, when all of them are so valuable just the way they are? What is in the name?

When I was writing my first book I pondered the idea of using a pseudonym myself. I thought long and hard about one that could hide my real origins and my real gender. I wondered, maybe not even J.K. Rowling would have had such remarkable success if she had used Jane, her first name, in her first book.

I spent the last few years thinking about it, and finally I concluded that I had just one life and just one name and identity, therefore, I decided to go for it—I added my real first and last name to my first novel, one that not only was a very hard story to tell, but also was mainly a translation of culture.

I have never questioned or objected to the fact that some needed their name changed to be accepted and integrated to the general knowledge of a society dominated by an Anglo-Saxon language. In my view, all names and cultures are valuable, interesting, and profoundly important for the general understanding of us as human beings. But I also understand that when a name is somehow considered a brand it enters another territory—that of the marketing world.

What I do question is myself, what I want, and what I expect from my work. I do want to be successful at getting to the other side of the communication, the readers, but not by paying for it with my own identity, slashing my name and origins from view. From the marketing point of view, that is not a sound decision. If your primary intention is that of selling your product you do everything necessary to get to the consumer with the least interference possible, and foreign names can be a deterrent for many, especially when those foreign names suggest strong racial and cultural differences.

I’m not against making money, especially when you are remunerated for what you do honestly, product of a strong work ethic. It’s only that I don’t see the need to publicly disintegrate myself and my family of origin, just in the name of money and “success”. The readers I’m after are reasonable people, open to engage with others at the core of the communication, where the origin of the writer is appreciated for its value of another perspective added to the general view.

For me, it’s a question of human engagement, and my writing has no meaning if I can’t be myself in the process, because being who I am adds honesty to the mutual connection.

I don’t question Garry Marshall, I love his work, especially the TV show Happy Days, and the feature comedy Overboard. I also understand that he lived in another era, and for that very same reason maybe he wouldn’t have been able to reach such level of success with his Italian paternal last name, Masciarelli. Who knows. In any case, it was his call; I respect that, and his entire body of work. It’s just that I miss him.

What I do see is that it’s my responsibility from now on to participate in a new era of acceptance of peoples’ origins and cultures, because what is in the name is more than a collection of letters. It encapsulates not only who we are today, but who we were in the past, and also that hope we have inside for a better future.

My mother wanted to call me Maria, but one of my brothers, the one I mentioned in the posting Il Sorpasso, told my mom that Maria was too common, so he took it upon himself to look for a name that had the same meaning, but was spelled differently. After much consideration he came up with Mariella, an Italian first name used mainly in the south of Italy, which translated into English literally means Little Mary. Mariella is also a last name, the name of a marine star, that of a very good pizzeria in New York City, of sandals, and of bed linens. So, from that standpoint, my first name is already embedded in the culture.

Gattini is the last name of my dear dad, who had so much hope for humanity, and who truly believed in the big dreams he had for us all. He didn’t make it, neither did my brother, but I did. That’s what is in my name.

UPDATE (July 8, 2020): At the time of the publication of this post I was not aware of the allegations against Woody Allen and Louis C.K. I never had the intention to aggrandize them in any way, or to express any allegiance to their brand.