Friday, February 13, 2009
What would you say if I named my first-born Christopher Moltisanti? It's just something about the name itself that haunts me. The "Chr" that scrapes into a hiss; the "pher" that lapses into a grr; Moltisanti that sounds like a saint in molten effigy. (Kind of like the mafia initiation ritual, in which the initiate's finger is pricked and the blood smeared on the image of a saint, which is then burned.) And the alternating open and closed vowels of "Molt" i "San" "ti," if delivered slowly and arduously, sound like a carving in ancient rock.