Frederick Starr's Aztec Place-Names (1920) is a compact linguistic primer that dissects the construction of Nahuatl geographic names. Rather than offering a narrative, the book presents a systematic analysis: each entry lists a place-name, its meaning in brackets, and the component parts with their individual glosses. The preface frames the work as a tool for students of Aztec hieroglyphic writing, emphasizing that understanding word composition is a prerequisite. The method is borrowed from Agustín de la Rosa's Explicacion de algunos de los Nombres de la Lengua Mexicana, with meanings largely following Cecilio A. Robelo and composition rules drawn from Antonio Peñafiel.
Rules of Composition as a Structural Backbone
The book opens with seven rules of composition, attributed to Peñafiel, that govern how Nahuatl place-names are formed. These rules are not merely decorative; they are the analytical lens through which every subsequent entry is examined. Rule 1 states that geographic names commonly end in a particle indicating place, such as -co. Rule 3 notes that when such a particle is added, the noun usually drops its terminal letters or syllable—for example, Anahuac from atl (water) and nahuac (near). Rule 6 limits compounds to three elements plus the postposition. These rules are applied consistently in the entries, creating a predictable pattern that allows the reader to parse unfamiliar names. The rules themselves are concise, but their repeated application gives the book a methodical, almost algorithmic feel.
The Mechanics of Meaning: Translation and Analysis
Each entry follows a rigid template: the name in bold, its meaning in brackets, then the elements with italicized dropped parts. For instance, Teocaltzinco is broken into teocal li (temple), tzin (diminutive), and co (place), yielding “Place of the small temple.” The analysis reveals how nouns are modified: teocuitlatlan (where there is gold) derives from teotl (god) and cuitlatl (excrement), a striking etymology that Starr notes without comment. The entries vary in complexity; some, like Tepeyacac, include a cultural note—here, the apparition of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Others, like Tetlapanaloyan (a quarry), show verb-derived suffixes like -yan (place where an action occurs). The consistency of the format trains the reader to recognize patterns across dozens of names.
Pace and Pedagogical Design
The book's pace is deliberate and repetitive, reflecting its intended use as a workbook. The preface instructs the student to learn the rules, memorize the meanings, and study the analyses until able to explain any name's construction. The entries are grouped alphabetically, but there is no narrative progression; each entry is a discrete unit. This structure makes the book suitable for reference or drill, but it also means the reader must supply their own momentum. The final section, not fully excerpted, likely includes additional exercises in sight-reading. The overall effect is that of a grammar primer: dry but precise, with no wasted words. The author's voice is that of a compiler and instructor, not a storyteller.
Readers approaching Aztec Place-Names should treat it as a reference manual rather than a continuous text. The most productive way to use it is to read the rules first, then work through the entries in small batches, testing oneself on the analysis before checking the breakdown. The book rewards patience: after a few dozen entries, the patterns become intuitive, and the logic of Nahuatl compounding begins to feel natural. For those interested in Mesoamerican languages or toponymy, this slim volume offers a focused, hands-on introduction.
Starr’s careful unraveling of Nahuatl place-names felt less like scholarship than like listening to old words forget themselves, one syllable melting into the next. It reminded me, strangely, of the first pages of The Gutenberg Webster's Unabridged Dictionary: Section A and B — Inside the Classic—that same quiet patience before language, the way every letter seems to hold a tiny, forgotten geography of its own.