The Love Dimple (minicast)

Welcome to another mini-podcast of A Way with Words. I’m Martha Barnette. My co-host Grant Barrett is away getting ready for his high school reunion. He said something about going over to the mental gym to do some linguistic lunges. I’m not sure I want a picture of that.

But anyway, I’m digging through the mailbag and I just found this thought-provoking question from a listener named Joel. My word, he writes, is philtrum. It’s the slight depression on everyone’s upper lip. Is there a common word for it in any language? Well, Joel, you’re right. That word for that little dent in your upper lip is indeed philtrum. That’s spelled P-H-I-L-T-R-U-M, philtrum.

Now, the history of the word philtrum goes all the way back to ancient Greece, where that part of the body was called the philtron. But the roots of this word go back even earlier, because originally the word philtron meant love potion. And in fact, that’s one of many descendants of a Greek word for love, philos. So you get a philosopher who’s a lover of wisdom, you get a philodendron that’s a tree-loving vine, and Philadelphia is the city of brotherly love.

But why, you might ask, would the Greeks apply a word that means love potion to that fleshy dent in your upper lip? There are a couple of theories. One is that the Greeks regarded that part of the

Body as an erogenous zone, and therefore a good place to dab a few drops of love potion. Or it could be that the Greeks saw a resemblance between the shape of that little indentation and the vial in which one might carry an aphrodisiac.

And Joel, yes, we do see the word philtrum or one like it in several languages, including French and Italian and Dutch, but if you prefer, you could use the German word for that sexy little dimple.

It’s Operlittenrinne, which means something like the gutter over one’s lip.

Now, Joel, I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to think that the word philtrum is a whole lot more romantic.

And by the way, Talmudic tradition offers a lovely legend to explain why we have these little things in the first place.

The story goes that just before a baby is born, it knows all the secrets of heaven.

But then all of a sudden an angel taps the baby’s upper lip and poof, the baby forgets everything.

And the philtrum appears as a reminder that it’s up to us to spend the rest of our lives accumulating that wisdom anew.

One more thing, the proper plural form of philtrum is philtra, that’s with an A on the end.

I’m just telling you that in case you ever need to talk about more than one.

Say you’re writing something like, slowly they swayed on the dance floor, they’re quivering philtra moving ever closer.

Or not.

And anyway, if you haven’t had your fill of philtra in anatomical terms, then you should get yourself the new book by Charles Hodson.

It’s called Carnal Knowledge, a Naval Gazer’s Dictionary of Anatomy, Etymology, and Trivia.

Charles’ book is a lot of fun.

In it, he explains not only the origin of philtrum, he’ll tell you exactly where your tragus is.

That’s T-R-A-G-U-S, tragus.

It’s a word with a wonderful etymology.

So check it out at Charles’s website.

That’s poddictionary.com.

And hey, while you’re nosing around online, why don’t you stop by the A Way with Words discussion forum, where fellow word lovers are batting around some hot linguistic topics.

Our address is waywordradio.org.

That’s Wayword, as in way with words.

And do keep sending us your questions and thoughts about language.

Our address is words@waywordradio.org.

Or call us anytime.

The number’s 1-877-929-9673.

Anyway, now you have the unfiltered scoop about Filtra.

Just another reminder that when you have a question about language, sometimes the answer’s right there under your nose.

Talk with you soon.

I’m Martha Barnette.

Support for A Way with Words comes from ThinkMap, maker of the Visual Thesaurus, an interactive dictionary and thesaurus.

The Visual Thesaurus brings language to life.

Learn more at visualthesaurus.com.

I’m Billy.