Constructor: Rebecca Goldstein
Relative difficulty: Medium-Challenging (much more like a Saturday than a Friday)
THEME: none
Word of the Day: ANNO mundi (18A: ___ mundi) —
This is really one of the best themeless grids I've seen in a while, but the editing (i.e. cluing) continues to be ... not my thing. Puzzles continue to play way sloggier since Will's absence from the editorial chair. There's a smoothness that's missing, and I haven't felt a real Friday breeziness in what feels like ages. If I'd gotten this puzzle tomorrow, I think I would've been much happier. Today, I felt mad at the cluing for constantly, deliberately, and in puny/cheap ways, making the puzzle less enjoyable. There were some gimmes here and there (JANE EYRE, for instance, and ARYA Stark and EDIE Brickell), but otherwise it felt like every short clue was trying to be tricky or fancy or otherwise off (Other editors I know generally have a better sense of proportion about this stuff). Take the NW corner, where the short fill isn't exactly strong, but, instead of making it easily navigable (which would make it less noticeable), it's turned into total goop. The only thing I got at first pass up there was ELS (two sets of double "L"s in "Volleyball") (5D: Volleyball doubles?). Even worse—I put in APSE before ICON (?) (3D: Basilica sight) (if it hadn't been APSE it would've been NAVE). Clue feels like it was designed to make you step into that trap. No idea who the OLGA is up there, no idea what ANNO Mundi is, no idea about NOON because of the "?" clue (2D: High point?). ON ICE should've been gettable but wasn't (for me) without crosses (I had SPARE at one point) (1A: In reserve). Moved over one section and ... more of the same. No idea about BOLO (looks like BOLO is a kind of knife; I know it only as a string tie) (6D: Cousin of a machete). It's like the puzzle is all of a sudden self-conscious about being "original" with Every Single Clue. On a Friday, this is a drag, because I'm way more hung up on the short stuff (not the best stuff) when my attention should be on the exquisite longer stuff. I should probably give up on my expectation of a Friday/Saturday distinction, since I feel like it applies less and less (and this trend was starting even before Will's—hopefully temporary—departure). But I continue to want Fridays to whoosh and I continue to expect Saturdays to grind. I like the idea that there can be two sides to the themeless puzzle, friendly and cruel, and I will continue to be at least semi-mad when Friday and Saturday don't play their accustomed roles.
Further notes:
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter and Facebook]
Relative difficulty: Medium-Challenging (much more like a Saturday than a Friday)
Word of the Day: ANNO mundi (18A: ___ mundi) —
Anno Mundi (from Latin "in the year of the world"; Hebrew: לבריאת העולם), abbreviated as AM or A.M., or Year After Creation, is a calendar era based on the biblical accounts of the creation of the world and subsequent history. Two such calendar eras have seen notable use historically:
- Since the Middle Ages, the Hebrew calendar has been based on rabbinic calculations of the year of creation from the Hebrew Masoretic Text of the Bible. This calendar is used within Jewish communities for religious purposes and is one of two official calendars in Israel. In the Hebrew calendar, the day begins at sunset. The calendar's epoch, corresponding to the calculated date of the world's creation, is equivalent to sunset on the Julian proleptic calendar date 6 October 3761 BCE. The new year begins at Rosh Hashanah, in Tishrei. Anno mundi 5784 (meaning the 5,784th year since the creation of the world) began at sunset on 15 September 2023 according to the Gregorian calendar.
- The Byzantine calendar was used in the Eastern Roman Empire and many Christian Orthodox countries and Eastern Orthodox Churches and was based on the Septuagint text of the Bible. That calendar is similar to the Julian calendar except that its reference date is equivalent to 1 September 5509 BCE on the Julian proleptic calendar.
While both calendars reputedly counted the number of years since the creation of the world, the primary reason for their disparity lies in which underlying biblical text is chosen (the Earth seems to have been created roughly around 5500 BCE based on the Greek Septuagint text, and about 3760 BCE based on the Hebrew Masoretic text). (wikipedia)
• • •
I was miserable solving this puzzle (because of the NW) until SILENT DISCO came along and put a big smile on my face (30A: Dance party where participants wear wireless headphones). After a few stray answers up top (only ELS, ALEXA, NO TIP, and a wrong APSE), I *finally* got traction in the middle of the grid (bizarre place for me to start). Like a true crossword stalwart I got going via an old standby: OHM (21A: Resistance). Is "resistance" involved? Is it three letters? It's OHM. There are certain (OK, very many) things I know solely from crosswords, and this is one of them. So I went OHM to HSN (Home Shopping Network) to LASSIE to EDIE to TIMOR to IMS, and then, after ALEXA and NO TIP gave me APPLY TO, I dropped in LEO. With that terminal "O" in place, I finally looked at the long Across running through all that center area I'd just filled in, and SILENT DISCO leapt right out. There were more such wonderful long revelations to come. Like when I realized that [Bugs, informally] had nothing to do with wiretapping or animated bunnies or annoying people, but literal insect-type bugs: CREEPY CRAWLIES! And COMMIT TO THE BIT—another long answer that got a "nice one" out of me. Real "D'oh!" moment when I stared down ALLOP- and could not conceive of how that could be the beginning of a "question" (26D: Question for the naysayers). ALLOP...ATHIC medicine. I'm pretty sure I even broke it into ALL and OP- and still couldn't see "ALL OPPOSED!?" Anyway, good answer there. The longer answers all glow, but CREEPY CRAWLIES, COMMIT TO THE BIT, and SILENT DISCO were definitely my favorite. All that and a SWANKY SPY SHIP! Many themelesses skimp on the marquee answers—not this one. This one GOES BANANAS.
Further notes:
- 6A: Chaise alternative (BANC) — this is a type of seating, I gather. "BANC" is Fr. for "bench." Yet another way in with the N/NW was a thicket—when short / not particularly attractive answers are really slowing you down ... I can't say that's the ideal solving experience.
- 8D: Policy in a restaurant that pays a living wage, perhaps (NO TIP) — You can have a NO-TIP policy, but the policy itself is "NO TIPS," plural. Clue should've made the answer adjectival ([Like a policy etc...])
- 16A: Fade from use (GO OBSOLETE) — so hard to parse without massive help from crosses (which, as we've established, were not helping much). GOOB is a funny answer-opener. I didn't have any idea about CABOOSES at first (4D: They bring up the rear), so no "B," so no hope at GO OBSOLETE. Needed the terminal -LETE before I had any kind of shot. [Note: GO OBSOLETE and GOES BANANAS sharing the same grid, maybe not ideal, kinda dupey, kinda same/same, but they're both such nice answers that I am inclined not to care]
- 17A: "Das ___ der Deutschen" (Germany's national anthem) (LIED) — yeeeesh, I'm not sure crossing the "D" in TEDX with the German word for "song" is the best idea, esp. when LIED is an ordinary English word. I honestly spent a few beats staring down the blank square at LIE- / TE-X; I knew that LIEB was a German word ... and then TEL-X seemed like it might be some "online" franchise ... but then I remembered TED Talks, and that TEDX was a thing, and then the "D" made total sense (recognized LIED as a real German word immediately). If you crashed and burned here ... I feel you, and I'm sorry.
- 49D: Cardigan, e.g. (KNIT) — oof. Had the "T" and wanted VEST. Then got the "K" and wanted ... KILT. Well, I didn't want it, but that's all that came to mind. But what we've got here is KNIT in noun form. OK!
- 36A: Nickname alternative to Coby, perhaps (JAKE)— really? I have no idea why people are called what they're called, so this made no sense to me. I had JACK in here at some point (from "Jacoby"?). There are so many great JAKEs out there. I had to endure some reality TV guy's name ("Below Deck"? LOL, what?); couldn't you at least throw me a nice meaty JAKE to make it up to me. A nice Gyllenhall, or detective JAKE Gittes from Chinatown, or even a JAKE from State Farm?
- 29D: They're about a foot (TOES)— I entertained and then discarded TOES as an answer because "about" means "around" (as in "encircling" or else "all around, here and there"), and if your TOES are truly about your foot, then ... ARE YOU OKAY? You should probably see a doctor. They should all be toward the front, facing forward.
See you next time.
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