In phonaesthetics, the English compound noun cellar door has been cited as an example of a word or phrase which is beautiful purely in terms of its sound (euphony), without regard for semantics (i.e., meaning). It has been variously presented either as merely one beautiful instance of many, or as the most beautiful in the English language; as the author's personal choice, that of an eminent scholar's, or of a foreigner who does not speak the language. The original instance of this observation has not been discovered, although it was made as early as 1903.
Meaning and aesthetic qualities
In the United States, houses are often built with a door or pair of shutters between the outside of a building and its cellar. In Britain, Ireland and Canada, a cellar door is often located within a house and opens onto a flight of stairs leading to the cellar. Outside doors are more common to pubs and restaurants.
From the nineteenth century, many American houses on large plots had slanted trapdoors abutting the side and opening onto a flight of steps leading down into the cellar. By the mid-twentieth century this rustic feature was a rarity; in 1953, William Chapman White wrote in the New York Herald Tribune:
The modern small home or apartment has ... deprived today's child of ... the pleasant summer afternoon activity of sliding down cellar doors. Just what happened to the slanted cellar door in this efficient age isn't clear; although cellars have remained, nothing has disappeared more quietly from modern life than these cellar doors.
Linguist Geoffrey Nunberg suggests the use of such a semantically banal term to illustrate the idea of beauty appeals to aesthetes as "an occasion to display a capacity to discern beauty in the names of prosaic things".
In 1991, Jacques Barzun wrote:
I discovered its illusory character when many years ago a Japanese friend with whom I often discussed literature told me that to him and some of his English-speaking friends the most beautiful word in our language was 'cellardoor'. It was not beautiful to me and I wondered where its evocative power lay for the Japanese. Was it because they find l and r difficult to pronounce, and the word thus acquires remoteness and enchantment? I asked, and learned also that Tatsuo Sakuma, my friend, had never seen an American cellar door, either inside a house or outside â€" the usual two flaps on a sloping ledge. No doubt that lack of visual familiarity added to the word’s appeal. He also enjoyed going to restaurants and hearing the waiter ask if he would like salad or roast vegetables, because again the phrase 'salad or' could be heard. I concluded that its charmlessness to speakers of English lay simply in its meaning. It has the l and r sounds and d and long o dear to the analysts of verse music, but it is prosaic. Compare it with 'celandine', where the image of the flower at once makes the sound lovely.
Use in literature
Author J. R. R. Tolkien is often given credit for the idea that cellar door is an especially beautiful phrase. An excerpt from Tolkien's 1955 lecture "English and Welsh" reads in part:
Most English-speaking people ... will admit that cellar door is 'beautiful', especially if dissociated from its sense (and from its spelling). More beautiful than, say, sky, and far more beautiful than beautiful. Well then, in Welsh for me cellar doors are extraordinarily frequent, and moving to the higher dimension, the words in which there is pleasure in the contemplation of the association of form and sense are abundant.
However, an earlier instance can be found in the 1903 novel Gee-Boy by the Shakespeare scholar Cyrus Lauron Hooper:
He was laughed at by a friend, but logic was his as well as sentiment; an Italian savant maintained that the most beautiful combination of English sounds was cellar-door; no association of ideas here to help out! sensuous impression merely! the cellar-door is purely American.
William Dean Howells in the March 1905 issue of Harper's Magazine attributes to a "courtly Spaniard" the quote, "Your language too has soft and beautiful words, but they are not always appreciated. What could be more musical than your word cellar-door?"
In 2014, Geoff Nunberg speculated that the choice of cellar door might have arisen from Philip Wingate and Henry W. Petrie's 1894 hit song "I Don't Want to Play in Your Yard", which contains the lyric, "You'll be sorry when you see me sliding down our cellar door", after which "'slide down my cellar door' became a kind of catchphrase to suggest innocent friendship".
A story told by syndicated columnists Frank Colby in 1949 and L. M. Boyd in 1979 holds that cellar door was Edgar Allan Poe's favorite phrase, and that the refrain Nevermore in "The Raven" was chosen as "the closest word to 'cellar door' he could think of." This may derive from a 1914 essay by Alma Blount:
Poe, who studied sound effects carefully, says that he chose 'Nevermore' as the refrain for The Raven largely because the word contains the most sonorous vowel, o, and the most 'producible' consonant, r. An amusing story is told of an Italian lady who knew not a word of English, but who, when she heard the word cellar-door, was convinced that English must be a most musical language. If the word were not in our minds hopelessly attached to a humble significance, we, too, might be charmed by its combination of spirant, liquids, and vowels.
In 1919, with Prohibition in the United States about to come into force, Cartoons magazine jocularly invoked the idea when predicting the rise of speakeasies hidden in basements:
That eastern professor who said, one time that cellar-door was the most beautiful word in English was speaking oracularly. ... if cellar-door is not the most beautiful word it is probably, now that THE GREAT DROUTH [sic] is upon us, the most popular.
The rhythmic or musical quality of the phrase was referenced by H. L. Mencken in 1920, by professor David Allen Robertson in 1921, and by critic George Jean Nathan in 1935. In 1932, poet Wilfred J. Funk publicized Funk & Wagnalls dictionary with a top ten list of beautiful words, which did not include cellar door. Writers were polled afterwards for their own candidates, and three included cellar door: Hendrik Willem van Loon, Dorothy Parker, and Albert Payson Terhune. The Baltimore Sun responded:
Three poets who were questioned as to their preferences agreed that the measure of a word and its associations are far more important in judging its beauty than the mere sound ...Although Baltimore writers showed wide disagreement in their preferences, none could make out why [writers] in New York think 'cellar-door' should be ranked at the top.
The teenage protagonist of Norman Mailer's 1967 novel Why Are We in Vietnam? attributes the observation to "a committee of Language Hump-type professors ... back in 1936 ". Richard Lederer in Crazy English claims that H. L. Mencken had claimed in a 1940s poll that cellar door had been favored by a student from China.
In the 2001 film Donnie Darko, the phrase cellar door is discussed in one scene, and an actual cellar door figures into the plot in a later scene. The remark is attributed to "a famous linguist" in the dialogue script of the film. When asked about the origin of the phrase, writer-director Richard Kelly inaccurately suggested Edgar Allan Poe as the possible source.
Alternative spellings
Some proper names have used alternative spellings of cellar door that preserve the sound of the phrase without the original meaning. Columnist Maxine Martz wrote in 1988 about one Margaret Masters, who heard about cellar door at Drake University, and later named her baby sister Sellador. C. S. Lewis wrote in 1963, "I was astonished when someone first showed that by writing cellar door as Selladore one produces an enchanting proper name."
See also
- Celador
- Cellador
Notes
References
Further reading
- Powney, Harriet (25 May 2012). "What's the loveliest word in the English language?". The Guardian.Â
External links
- Discussion arising from Barrett's "cellar door" article on the American Dialect Society mailing list
