Research Question - Alaskan Inuit Names
Cross-posting from tumblr.
Asking in the hopes that one of my northerly friends might know something about this…
I’ve recently been trying to research Alaskan Inuit culture for an OC in my fanfic and (perhaps not surprisingly) there’s a bit of a dearth of information out there. In particular I’m trying to find out about naming conventions so that I can name her in a culturally representative way.
From what I’ve been able to figure out (which is piecing it together a little), modern Inuit names conform to the First Name/(Middle Name)/Surname western structure due to government requirements (for birth certificates, I think?), however the “surname” isn’t one shared by members of the same family group but one chosen specifically for that child, often to honour an older family member. Can anyone confirm or deny?
My character is tentatively named Bridget Aguta* - is this appropriate? If not, can anyone suggest something more appropriate? Many thanks in advance.
[For context, I guess - the character is an Alaskan slayer in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer verse. Buffy is going to travel with her to the north pole due to her expertise in those kinds of conditions, so if you have any related advice or resources - including books, documentaries whatever - fire away!]
*Aguta, according to the web, meaning “gatherer of the dead”, though I have only been able to find one source for this.
***
And a snippet esp for LJ..
A nearby hedge rustles, catching Buffy’s attention back to the present, and without thinking she reaches for her waistband before remembering she’s in her pajamas, and stake-less. It doesn’t matter - something small, round and surprisingly speedy zips past her bare feet to the flower beds. Silently, she steps forward before crouching down for a closer look in the dim pre-dawn light. It’s a hedgehog, snuffling around the damp earth for a snack. Buffy watches, mindlessly enchanted by the whiffling nose, the dainty paws.
After only a few moments it seems to become aware of being watched, and its industry comes to an abrupt halt. Some small change, a shifting breeze or creak of knee, must have given her away, and now the little creature is frozen, waiting: fight or flight. It’s a reaction Buffy’s used to inspiring.
“Boo,” she tells it, and quick as lightning it curls up into a prickly little ball. Reaching out, she gives it a gentle prod, then, curious, rolls it over. The hedgehog is turned so tightly in on itself it’s presenting nothing but spines to the world. A sudden pang of envy sidles out of the shadows, but on its heels comes the question, somewhat disconnected, of whether all that rolling up ever gets tiring; if it gets in the way of actually going someplace. Whatever important place a hedgehog would have to go.
*
Giles rises with the sun, and Buffy tells him then, “I’ll take the mission.”
“Indeed?” he asks calmly. “I thought you had retired from active service.”
She licks her lips - taste of scotch, fresh air and sleeplessness. “Well unretire me, because I’m going to the North Pole.”