Ansel, a distilled form of the medieval Germanic Anselm, carries in its sturdy syllables the promise of “divine protection,” the ancient root ans evoking the old gods while helm whispers of the sheltering helm of a knight; yet, when this name rolls off the tongue—whether with the mellow French ahn-sel, the crisply Teutonic ahn-zel, or the easy American an-suhl—it feels more like a shaft of light than a suit of armor. Listeners often think first of Ansel Adams, whose black-and-white landscapes turned granite and sky into cathedral aisles, or of modern actor Ansel Elgort, whose youthful verve lends the name fresh luster, and behind them stands Saint Anselm, the brilliant medieval philosopher-monk who married faith to reason with the elegance of a Florentine architect joining marble to daylight. In Italy today, nonni might still murmur the variant Anselmo, but sleek little Ansel fits just as gracefully on a Brooklyn playground as in a sun-drenched Umbrian piazza, its vowels rising like a swallow over terracotta roofs. Quietly unfussy yet artistically charged, it offers parents a canvas of mountain air and Renaissance grace—an appellation that protects, inspires, and, like a well-pulled espresso, leaves a lingering warmth on the heart.
| Ansel Adams - | 
| Ansel Elgort - | 
| Ansel Franklin Hall - | 
| Ansel Elkins - |