A ten-year-old girl named Harriet has been denied a passport because her name does not appear on the list of approved Icelandic names. 
 
 Had her parents chosen Hjörný, Haddý, Hekla, Hrafnhildur or Hörn she would have been approved, but the name Harriet is not on the list and cannot be added to it, according to the country's strict naming laws. 
 
 "They have deprived our daughter of freedom of movement," the girl's mother, Kristín Cardew, told visir.is. "It is in violation of the United Nations' Convention on the Rights of the Child." 
 
 Cardew and her husband, Tristan, who was born in Britain, have four children: Lilja, Belinda, Harriet and Duncan. But Duncan and Harriet's names appear in the National Registry as /drengur/, which means boy, and /stúlka/, which means girl, because neither name has been approved by a body called the Icelandic Naming Committee. 
 
 Until now, this is also how their names have appeared in their passports. But when Cardew went to renew Harriet's passport, she was told that the document could not be issued because her daughter's name was "illegal". 
 
 Icelandic law says that unless both parents are foreign, all children born in the country must have their name submitted to the National Registry within six months of birth, The Guardian reports. If the chosen name does not appear on the official list of 1,853 female and 1,712 male names, parents must ask for approval from the Naming Committee. 
 
 Around 100 applications are received each year from parents hoping to give their child an unrecognised name. Of those, approximately half are rejected under a 1996 act which aims to preserve the Icelandic language. 
 
 The complexity of naming conventions in the country is that new names must be able to be conjugated so as not to "conflict with the linguistic structure of Iceland". Harriet was turned down because it could not be properly given nominative, accusative, and genitive cases, the Guardian says. 
 
 Jón Gnarr, the former mayor of Reykjavik, described the country's naming laws as "unfair, stupid [and] against creativity". · 

 A British father and Icelandic mother have launched an appeal against a government decision not to renew their 10-year-old daughter's passport because she has an "ineligible" Christian name. 
 
 The couple, from Kópavogur, have for years travelled with their children Harriet and Duncan using passports featuring the names "Girl" and "Boy" because neither of their names are recognised by the country's strict National Registry of permissible names. 
 
 But when they came to renew Harriet's passport ahead of a planned family holiday to France, authorities decided to enforce a law banning the issue of any official document to people who do not have an "approved Icelandic name". 
 
 Parents in Iceland must choose from a list of 1,853 female and 1,712 male sanctioned names when naming their children. If they intend to opt for something more adventurous they must apply for permission from the Icelandic Naming Committee . 
 
 The list was created under a 1996 act intended to preserve the Icelandic language. Names are only approved if they can be conjugated in Icelandic, and must be "written in accordance with the ordinary rules of Icelandic orthography", according to the law. 
 
 Those wishing to name their children by names not on the list must appeal, and prove that the names fit this strict criteria. 
 
 Some have enjoyed success recently. Last year a woman called Blær – whose name translates to "Light Breeze" – won the right to be officially known by her given name, as opposed to "Girl". 
 
 However, Harriet was rejected on the grounds that "It can't be conjugated in Icelandic," said Tristan Cardew, the children's father. 
 
 Thankfully, the possibility that the row would cause the family to miss their holiday to France were averted after the parents successfully applied for an emergency UK passport from the British embassy. 

 You can be Aagot, Arney or Ásfríður; Baldey, Bebba or Brá. Dögg, Dimmblá, Etna and Eybjört are fine; likewise Frigg, Glódís, Hörn and Ingunn. Jórlaug works OK, as do Obba, Sigurfljóð, Úranía and – should you choose – Vagna. 
 
 But you cannot, as a girl in Iceland, be called Harriet. 
 
 "The whole situation," said Tristan Cardew, with very British understatement, "is really rather silly." 
 
 With his Icelandic wife Kristin, Cardew is appealing against a decision by the National Registry in Reykjavik not to renew their 10-year-old daughter Harriet's passport on the grounds that it does not recognise her first name. 
 
 Since the registry does not recognise the name of Harriet's 12-year-old brother Duncan either, the two children have until this year travelled on passports identifying them as Stúlka and Drengur Cardew: Girl and Boy Cardew. 
 
 "But this time, the authorities have decided to apply the letter of the law," Cardew, a British-born cook who moved to Iceland 14 years ago, told the Guardian. "And that says no official document will be issued to people who do not bear an approved Icelandic name." 
 
 The Cardews could get round Harriet's problem by giving her an Icelandic middle name. Photograph: Tristan Cardew 
 
 The impasse meant the family, from Kópavogur, risked missing their holiday in France next week until they applied to the British embassy for an emergency UK passport, which should now allow them to leave. 
 
 Names matter in Iceland, a country of barely 320,000 people whose phone book lists subscribers by their first name for the very sensible reason that the vast majority of Icelandic surnames simply record the fact that you are your father's (or mother's) son or daughter. Jón Einarsson's offspring, for example, might be Ólafur Jónsson and Sigríður Jónsdóttir. 
 
 The law dictates that the names of children born in Iceland must – unless both parents are foreign – be submitted to the National Registry within six months of birth. If it is not on a recognised list of 1,853 female and 1,712 male names, the parents must seek the approval of a body called the Icelandic Naming Committee. 
 
 For the 5,000 or so children born in Iceland each year, the committee reportedly receives about 100 applications and rejects about half under a 1996 act aimed mainly at preserving the language of the sagas. 
 
 Among its requirements are that given names must be "capable of having Icelandic grammatical endings", may not "conflict with the linguistic structure of Iceland", and should be are "written in accordance with the ordinary rules of Icelandic orthography". 
 
 What this means in practice, according to the Reykjavik Grapevine is that names containing letters that do not officially exist in Iceland's 32-letter alphabet, such as "c", are out. 
 
 Jón Gnarr, the former mayor of Reykjavik, called Iceland’s naming law 'unfair, stupid [and] against creativity'. Photograph: Halldor Kolbeins/AFP/Getty Images 
 
 Similarly, names unable to accommodate the endings required by the nominative, accusative, genitive and dative cases used in Icelandic are also routinely turned down. "That was the problem with Harriet," said Cardew. "It can't be conjugated in Icelandic." 
 
 The country's naming laws have come under increasing fire in recent years: last year Blær – "Light Breeze" – Bjarkardóttir Rúnarsdottir won the right to be officially known by her given name, as opposed to "Girl", when a court ruled that denying her was a violation of the Icelandic constitution. The former mayor of Reykjavik, Jón Gnarr, has also called Iceland's naming law "unfair, stupid [and] against creativity". 
 
 The Cardews could get round Harriet's problem by giving her an Icelandic middle name. 
 
 "But it's a bit late for that, and way too silly," said Cardew. "Are they saying they don't want us here?"
– You might see why a government would be reluctant to hand Adolf Hitler a passport, but what's so bad about Harriet? A couple living in Iceland say the government has refused to issue their 10-year-old daughter and 12-year-old son new passports because their names, Harriet and Duncan, aren't on an approved list and are thus "illegal," the Week reports. "The whole situation is really rather silly," dad Tristan Cardew tells the Guardian. Officials say "no official document will be issued to people who do not bear an approved Icelandic name." On the list of 3,565 approved names: Ásfríður, Eybjört, Sigurfljóð, and Úranía. The children's previous passports were simply labeled Stúlka and Drengur Cardew, or Girl and Boy Cardew. "But this time, the authorities have decided to apply the letter of the law," Cardew says. Naming kids in Iceland is a serious business. Though Tristan is British, his wife is Icelandic, and unless both parents are foreign-born, a child's name much be selected from the approved list—it's a bid to preserve the language. The only other option is to ask the Icelandic Naming Committee for the green light, which it grants about 50% of the time. The issue with Harriet: "It can't be conjugated in Icelandic," says dad. The Telegraph notes the Cardews have launched an appeal but in the meantime, they've applied to the British embassy for emergency passports. (Last year, 15-year-old "Blaer" won approval for her name.)