When we read, we get to know characters at least partly through their names. And of course, names are important in getting to know real-life people, too. That’s why it’s so interesting when fictional characters aren’t specifically named in a story – at least, not at first. Sometimes, the author chooses not to name a character at all (e.g. the narrators of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, or Beryl Bainbridge’s Harriet Said). Other times, the author gives a nickname or title to a character. And if the story is written well, we get to know the character, almost as though that character had been given a name.

For instance, in Patricia Wentworth’s Grey Mask, Charles Moray returns to England after a four-year absence. He’s shocked to discover that his family home has been taken over by a group of thieves led by a shadowy figure called Grey Mask. Worse, he finds that his former fiancée, Margaret Langton, may be in league with the group. On the advice of a friend, Moray seeks help from Maude Silver. He soon learns that things are not quite as they seem, and before long, he’s drawn into the case of a wealthy heiress who is in grave danger if Grey Mask and his gang have their way. Moray learns, too, that his involvement puts him in danger as well.

Agatha Christie’s The Murder on the Links begins as Captain Hastings is en route by train from Paris to London. Along the way, he meets a fellow passenger who calls herself Cinderella. No sooner does Hastings return than he and Hercule Poirot are called back to France by an urgent letter from a man named Paul Renauld. Renauld claims that his life is in danger and asks for Poirot’s help. By the time Poirot and Hastings get to Renauld’s home, though, it’s too late: Renauld’s been murdered. Now, Poirot and Hastings are caught up in a murder investigation, and it turns out that Cinderella plays a role in it all. It’s interesting, too, that even after Hastings learns Cinderella’s real name, he still uses the name by which he best knows her.

Liam McIlvanney’s The Quaker takes place in 1969 Glasgow.  Everyone’s upset about the deaths of three women who’ve all been murdered by a man people are calling The Quaker. The police haven’t gotten very far on the case, and the media and public are fed up. They want answers, and they want the killer caught. With leads dying out, there are only a few men left on the ‘Quaker Squad,’ and Detective Inspector Duncan McCormack is seconded to Glasgow to work with them. As you can imagine, they are none too happy about an outsider and, at first, they do everything they can to make life hard for him. Gradually, though, as McCormack shows what he can do (and that he’s not there to get rid of them), the other members of the squad start working with him a little more willingly. In the end, they find out who ‘The Quaker’ is.

In Will Ferguson’s The Finder, three people’s lives intersect in the search for a man known as the Finder. He has an uncanny ability to find things that people thought were lost forever and then re-sell them at a high price. Anyone who recognizes him ends up paying the ultimate price. One of the people caught up in the search for the Finder is Japanese Police Inspector Atsushi Shimada. Another is Interpol agent Gladys ‘Gaddy’ Rhodes, who is officially tasked with finding the elusive Finder, and bringing him to justice. There are also travel journalist Thomas Rafferty, and a New Zealand girl named Catherine. It’s an odd collection of people, but the Finder has, in his way, impacted them all. Interestingly, nobody knows his real name or what he looks like. He makes very sure of that.

And then there’s Nick Davies’ El Flamingo. In it, failed Hollywood actor Lou Galloway decides he’s had enough of the LA scene, and travels to a small town in Mexico. He’s walking from a bar to the cheap hotel he’s staying in when he’s waylaid by a man – obviously a chauffeur – who’s mistaken him for someone else. Before he can do anything about it, he’s whisked away to a luxurious home owned by wealthy crime boss Diego Flores. It seems that Flores believes that Galloway is an elusive, but famous, hired assassin called El Flamingo. Flores wants Galloway to get rid of Colombian politician Juan Moreno, who’s getting in the way of Flores’ business interests. Flores also wants Galloway to keep an eye on his beautiful wife, Maria-Carla, whom he suspects is having an affair. Galloway knows that if he refuses, he’ll likely be killed. So, he agrees, and takes on the persona of El Flamingo. He doesn’t know anything about this man, not even his real name. But he does his best to ‘become’ that person. He and Maria-Carla travel to Colombia, where they soon are embroiled in a web of illegal trade, criminal groups, and murder.

There are plenty of other novels, too, where we really don’t know characters’ names (at least for most of a book). They’re given a nickname of some kind that can sometimes be as informative about that character as anything else. I’ve only mentioned a few here. Over to you.

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Steve Miller’s The Joker.