Cyrus Michael Christopher Dancy
Weatherby George Dupree
Took Great Care Of His Mother
Though He Was Only Three
This was the first thing I thought of when I heard the Danes-Dancy baby name. Do you remember that poem from “When We Were Very Young”? It’s always entertained me; the idea of a tiny boy bossing his mummy is amusing for some reason, immediately before it becomes pathological and strange.
But moreover it reminds me of Christopher Robin and the concept of the small English schoolboy, and then I remember that this child’s parents are called Claire and Hugh, and I get all Anglophile all over again.
But enough stalling – you want to know what I think about Cyrus, right? It’s Cyrus. It’s lovely for some, it’s indelibly linked to the slightly incestuous Vanity Fair shoot for others. I know of a young Cy, actually, so it didn’t seem to me to be the old man name it might have otherwise, because my brain was already used to the idea that it’s not just an antiquated name, but one that we should associate with chubby cheeks and booties.
Look, I don’t have strong emotions about Cyrus – especially followed by Michael Christopher – other than that it’s new and I love new and it makes me very happy to hear new. And I sure as hell don’t think it’s a “wacky celebrity name”. I think it’s a lovely, kind of wasp-y, elegant man’s name that will go anywhere – onscreen or into a law firm or into a commune.
This is what we’re talking about when we discuss expanding the breadth of names we use. It’s…evolution. The next generation is going to have horrible associations with names like Dylan and Ryan and Justin – names we think of as quintessentially “ours”. Then they’re going to be all in love with names like Glenn and Bob and Rick – names we think of as our dads’ will be charming for our kids.
So cheers to Cyrus, whose parents aren’t setting a trend, exactly, but using it in the best possible way. What would we have to say if his name was Michael?
