An online review of the book - "Why Shouldn't I Call My Son Clint?" -
"Like a tiny piece of personalised music, each of us has a name that, like all sounds, evokes some small and subconscious response from those we meet. This collective reaction, over the years of our existence, can gently trickle down and influence whom we become. This book is a must-read if you are faced with one of the following scenarios..... 1. You've either fallen pregnant - or knocked-up your girlfriend - and are trying desperately to arrive at a baby name that won't destroy the child's life. 2. You work with an idiot and you wonder how they became an idiot. 3. Your parents didn't have access to this book and they mysteriously called you Nigel, Colleen, Sharon or Kingston. And you wonder why people seem to treat you differently."
In New Zealand a few years ago there was a highly publicised account of the school teacher who did something about one of his pupils called Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii. He went to court and got a direction form the magistrate that her name was to be changed to something more manageable. The contemporary cartoon in the Auckland paper showed a man, Mr Az, standing in the dock in court. He was asked by counsel to tell the court his given name. He replied "Guilty".
Then there was the well known case in New York of the two black brothers. One had been christened Winner. The other was named Loser. (Loser went on to find well-paid employment. Winner ended up in the slammer.)
Nigel Lawson's daughter was named Nigella. Imagine if Salman Rushdie had done something similar with his daughter?