What’s in a name

Sonnet 30: When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unus’d to flow,
For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,
And moan th’ expense of many a vanish’d sight;
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor’d, and sorrows end.

In 1937, the Soviet Writers’ Union instructed its members to sign a manifesto supporting the death penalty for General Yona Yakir and Marshal Mikhail Tukhachevsky, who were accused of conspiracy. During the Union’s congress, when Pasternak refused to sign this manifesto, everyone thought he would be arrested. When he stood up to speak at the congress, he only said “30” and 2,000 people stood up and recited Sonnet 30. This story is told by George Steiner here, because knowing a poem by heart is a form of resistance (like in Fahrenheit 451). During the years when Mandelstam was imprisoned (he died during this time), his wife, Nadezhda, memorized and taught others everything he had written so that after Stalin’s death, she could finally publish it.

Nadezhda (Надежда) is the Slavic and original form of my name. It means “hope.”

This is a powerful story about literary resistance in the Soviet era. The name Nadezhda is particularly meaningful in this context – the concept of hope was especially significant during the dark periods of Soviet repression. Nadezhda Mandelstam’s act of preserving her husband’s poetry through memorization became one of the most famous examples of maintaining cultural memory under totalitarianism. Her memoir “Hope Against Hope” is considered one of the most important accounts of life during the Stalinist period.

Nadezhda (Надежда) holds deep cultural and spiritual significance in Slavic culture, particularly in Russian tradition. Let me elaborate:

In religious context, Nadezhda is one of the three theological virtues celebrated in Orthodox Christianity, alongside Vera (Faith) and Lyubov (Love). This trinity is so important that there’s a feast day (September 30) celebrating Saint Sofia and her three daughters named after these virtues. The story of their martyrdom has made these names particularly meaningful in Orthodox Slavic culture.

The concept of hope (nadezhda) appears frequently in Russian literature and poetry. For example, in Pushkin’s works, hope is often portrayed as a light in darkness, reflecting the Russian cultural understanding of hope as a sustaining force during difficult times. This resonates deeply with how the name was embodied by Nadezhda Mandelstam.

In everyday Russian culture, the name is often shortened to Nadya (Надя), which maintains its warm, positive associations while being more informal. The name was particularly popular during the Soviet era, perhaps as a reflection of people’s need for hope during challenging times.

Interestingly, in Slavic naming traditions, names were often chosen for their protective or aspirational qualities. Giving a child the name Nadezhda was seen as bestowing them with the quality of hope itself, making them both a bearer and symbol of hope for their family and community.

There’s also a fascinating linguistic aspect: the word nadezhda is related to the Old Church Slavonic word “надѣяти” (nadeyati), meaning “to lay upon, to rely on.” This etymology suggests that hope in Slavic culture isn’t just about optimism for the future, but about having something solid to rely on – a more grounded, resilient kind of hope.

Or, quoting Nick Cave in Faith, Hope and Carnage, ‘Hope is optimism with a broken heart’.