“Il tour mondiale della signora Carter. Ma chi diavolo è, vi starete chiedendo se, come me, vi siete persi alcuni dettagli della vita privata di una delle popstar più famose a livello internazionale? Agli ignoranti (in materia) come me, basterà un solo nome: Beyoncé … Ma era proprio necessario farsi chiamare con il cognome del marito?”

“Mrs Carter’s World Tour Show. But who the devil is she? you’re probably asking yourself if, like me, you missed out on some details of the private life of one the worldwide most famous pop stars? For the ignorant (on the subject) like me, just a name will suffice: Beyoncé … But was it really necessary to use her husband’s surname?”

This is the opening paragraph of an article I found a few days ago in the newspaper Corriere della Sera. I’m not going to discuss Beyoncé’s decision to use her husband’s surname, I’m just using this example as an opportunity to write about the Italian surname system. Since the early Seventies Italian women have kept their surname after marrying. This law also applied to women married at the time that it was passed, in fact I remember very well the day my mother received a letter from the Italian Embassy (we were leaving abroad at the time) to go and change her passport. After over ten years of marriage under the surname Cricorian (my father’s Armenian family surname) it was quite a shock for her, and she had to relearn to sign documents using her maiden surname. However, the discomfort didn’t last long.

Growing up in the years after this law had been passed I knew that I would be Serena Cricorian for the rest of my life, and the idea of changing my surname if or when I got married would feel like loosing part of my identity. This sentiment is perfectly exemplified by some of those who left comments to the newspaper article. Here is a small selection:

“Il cognome indica la nostra identità, le nostre origini. Sposarsi non vuol dire diventare proprietà di un uomo che ti mette su il suo nome come fossi la sua matita personale LOL”

“Our surname shows our identity, our origins. To get married does not mean to become property of a man, who puts his name on you as if you were his personal pencil LOL”

“Sarà perché è proprio della nostra cultura mantenere il proprio cognome, ma a me sembra grottesco che una donna che si sposa, divorzia, si risposa… cambi cognome in continuazione. Ti crei una tua identità con il cognome “da signorina”, e per me è bello continuare a mantenerla indipendentemente dal fatto che ti sposi. Mi capita spesso, magari seguendo lo sport, di trovare un’atleta che conoscevo con un nome e che ora si chiama in un altro modo. Insomma, a me fa brutto, in particolare in una società in cui (che lo vogliamo o no) il matrimonio è un istituto ormai molto precario. Almeno un cognome dovrebbe essere per sempre.”

“It may be because it’s typical of our culture to keep one’s surname, but to me it seems grotesque that a woman who gets married, then divorces, then remarries … would change her surname all the time. You build your own identity with your ‘maiden surname’, and to me it’s beautiful to keep [this identity] independent of the fact that you get married. I often happen, perhaps when following sports, to find an athlete who I knew by one name and now she has another. To conclude, it upsets me, particularly in a society in which (whether we like it or not) marriage is now a very precarious institution. At least your surname should stay the same for ever.”

“Io mi tengo il mio cognome, e uso quello di mio marito, come hanno già scritto molte, solo ed esclusivamente quando parlo in nome dei miei figli, per non generare confusione, dato che ovviamente hanno il cognome di mio marito. Però questo mi dà fastidio, perché per forza il cognome del padre, dopo che io li ho avuti in pancia 9 mesi e con gran dolore me li sono partorita io? A me spiace molto che il mio cognome, che tra l’altro mi piace parecchio, vada perso. Quando ero piccola, essendo femmina col cognome di mio padre, ero convintissima che se avessi avuto un fratello questo avrebbe portato il cognome di mia madre. Il senso innato della giustizia che hanno i bambini…”

“I keep my surname, and use my husband’s, as already stated by many readers, only and exclusively when I speak for my children, in order not to create confusion, since, obviously, they have my husband’s surname. However, this annoys me, that the father’s surname is obligatory, after I carried them in my belly for 9 months and gave birth to them with great pain. I’m very sad that my surname, which I really like, will be lost. When I was a child, being a girl with my father’s surname, I was firmly convinced that if I had a brother, he would take my mother’s surname. A child’s inbuilt sense of justice …”

“Trovo davvero triste che ancora oggi le donne debbano prendere il cognome del marito per dimostrare chissà quali cose…Non ne vedo la necessità. Sembrerebbe quantomeno strano che il marito facesse il contrario…e questo la dice lunga.”

“I find it really sad that even today women should take their husband’s surname to prove who knows what… I don’t see the necessity for it. It would seem equally strange if the husband did the opposite (took his wife’s surname) … and this says a lot.”

“…e poi scusate, ma se gli uomini usassero il cognome delle mogli, che effetto vi farebbe?”

“…and excuse me, but if men used their wife’s surname, how would you feel?”

Obviously, keeping our surname doesn’t mean we have achieved equality with men, far from it:

“Come hanno già scritto in tanti: nel resto del mondo c’è l’abitudine di prendere il cognome del marito. Eppure, le donne sono molto più emancipate rispetto a quelle italiane. In Italia più di 50% delle donne non lavora e il fatto di aver mantenuto il cognome da nubile, in che cosa migliora il loro stato di emancipazione personale?”

“As many have already written: in the rest of the world there is the habit of taking their husband’s surname. However, women are much more emancipated compared to the Italians. In Italy more than 50% of women don’t work, and how does the fact of keeping their maiden name improves their personal emancipation?”

Yes, being able to keep our maiden name doesn’t really improve our social status, but it’s part of my own identity, of who I am and have always been, and I would never give it up. In fact I’ll never forget my sense of outrage when, shortly after Geoff and I got married, my aunt, who has lived in England since the late 40’s, sent me a card addressed to Mrs Geoff Chamberlain! Ma che cavolo!