Constructor: August Lee-Kovach
Relative difficulty: On the easy side for a Thursday
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THEME: ALTERCATION (56A: Punny summary of the battle between editor and writer seen in 17-, 24-, 35- and 46-Across) — ordinary phrases clued as if they related to a fight about ALTERing a piece of writing (if you're wondering how "-CATION" is "punny," You Are Not Alone)
Relative difficulty: On the easy side for a Thursday
THEME: ALTERCATION (56A: Punny summary of the battle between editor and writer seen in 17-, 24-, 35- and 46-Across) — ordinary phrases clued as if they related to a fight about ALTERing a piece of writing (if you're wondering how "-CATION" is "punny," You Are Not Alone)
Theme answers:
Gonna be quick about it this morning because I'm kinda angry about this puzzle's revealer, and, you know ... don't write angry. Is that common advice? It certainly should be. Definitely don't post angry, don't tweet angry, don't reply angry. So I'm gonna try to put my objection to this puzzle plainly and then just move on. See, it's one thing for me to finish a puzzle and have no idea what the theme is. That happens from time to time. Usually, I just have to look around the grid and think about it a little, and then I see it. Once in a very blue moon, I honestly don't get it, and usually I'll just tell you so. Sometimes I'll look elsewhere on the internet to see if someone else knows. But today is a special kind of frustration Perfect Storm because I finished the puzzle and thought "... I don't get it. I mean, I see the ALTER part ... and the answers are about ALTERing manuscripts, so ... that makes sense, but ... what the hell am I supposed to do with -CATION?" I sat there and looked at the letters in "CATION." I said it out loud, trying to hear what the pun was. I said the whole word, ALTERCATION, trying desperately to hear something "punny" that I was missing. In the end I went searching for answers online. And ... it seems that the CATION does nothing. I had already discovered the "punny" part in "ALTER," and then kept looking for punniness even though there was none left to find. Fruitless searching for promised punniness—I can't think of a worse way to spend my (crossword) time, especially when it's my responsibility to know this stuff, and I'm on the clock (i.e. my window for writing this blog in the morning is pretty tight). If we're dealing with drama about periods, fumes about run-ons, exchanges about tenses, and fights about titles, then why aren't we dealing with ... something, Anything, about ALTER(ing)? Or why aren't we altering ... something. We could be altering something. I really thought we were altering something... something that sounds like "CATION." The problem is, nothing sounds like CATION. Sigh.
- PERIOD DRAMA (17A: Much ado about some punctuation?)
- RUN ON FUMES (24A: Anger over a grammatically incorrect sentence?)
- TENSE EXCHANGE (35A: Harsh words regarding the past and the present?)
- TITLE FIGHT (46A: Brawl over what to call a piece of writing?)
Thomas "Tad" Lincoln (April 4, 1853 – July 15, 1871) was the fourth and youngest son of the 16th President of the United States Abraham Lincoln and his wife Mary Todd Lincoln. // Thomas Lincoln was born on April 4, 1853, the fourth son of Abraham Lincoln and Mary Todd. His three elder brothers were Robert (1843–1926), Edward (1846–1850), and William (1850–1862). Named after his paternal grandfather Thomas Lincoln, he was soon nicknamed "Tad" by his father, for his small body and large head, and because as an infant he wiggled like a tadpole. Tad's first name has occasionally been erroneously recorded as Thaddeus. // Tad was born with a form of cleft lip and palate, which caused him speech problems throughout his life. He had a lisp and delivered his words rapidly and unintelligibly. Often only those close to Lincoln were able to understand him. For example, he called his father's bodyguard, William H. Crook, "Took," and his father "Papa Day" instead of "Papa Dear." [...] On Saturday morning, July 15, 1871, Lincoln died at the age of 18 at the Clifton House hotel in Chicago. The cause of death has been variously referred to as tuberculosis, a pleuristic attack, pneumonia, or congestive heart failure. In an obituary, John Hay affectionately referred to him as "Little Tad." (wikipedia)
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| [My question, exactly] |
Also, what is this Wednesday-type theme doing in my Thursday puzzle? I expect real trickery on Thursday, not just half-assed "pun" themes (CATION being the half of the ass that's not pulling its weight). You can tell the puzzle knows the theme is not tricky enough because it tries to lard the puzzle with difficulty via the cluing, which means that the theme feels pretty remedial and the solve ends up being a bit of a slog. Not Thursday-hard, just ... plodding. The fill is also less than great in many places: RDA EARLAP NANCE ADSALE INRE DRU AMI IFS OTOH ... I've seen worse, but I've seen better. The NE corner has a certain elegance and class with a BECOMING FLORENCE alongside FINESSE, and the opposite corner is at least interesting. TO DIE FOR is a fun phrase (as well as a great movie) and BATLIKE is weirdly entertaining. But between the inadequate revealer and the early-week theme type, I was a little disappointed today.
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| [38D: Tall and pointy, as ears] |
My big holdups today were actually quite small, in that they involved just two squares in the NE and just one in the center of the grid—dead center, in fact. I had a hell of a time parsing TENSE EXCHANGE because I had 32D: Big feller? not as AXE (you might "fell," or cut down, a tree with an AXE) but as APE (!?), which left me trying to make something out of -EEP CHANGE. In the NE, I had the Hebrew name as ARI (16A: Hebrew name meaning "my God" (ELI)). Not an exciting or interesting error, but it slowed me down a bit. Otherwise, as I say, there was nothing like the typical trickery of a Thursday puzzle on display here today, so I anticipate that people will have better-than-average solving times across the board.
Notes:
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter and Facebook]
Notes:
- 15A: One who might make a comeback? (ALUM) — an ALUM might "come back" ... to their alma mater ... for a class reunion. Pretty sure that's the intended context.
- 21A: Only city that entirely surrounds a country (ROME) — funny that that "country" is the only country with "city" in its name: VATICAN CITY. 0.19 square miles!
- 30A: Hunting cap feature (EARLAP) — I remember the first time I saw this word (in a crossword, of course) and thought "where ... where's the 'F'? What did they do with the 'F'?"
- 5D: What Alexander Graham Bell suggested as the standard telephone-answering greeting ("AHOY") — most of what I know about American history, I learned from "The Simpsons"; please enjoy this video montage of Mr. Burns answering the phone:
- 12D: First city in Europe with paved streets (1339) (FLORENCE) — FLORENCE and ROME, lah-di-dah! My daughter, a theater production manager, has a new gig coordinating the building and installation of theaters on board cruise ships, and those ships are being put together somewhere just outside ... Venice. Most of her work is actually done remotely (meetings meetings meetings), so she's in the States for now, but come January ... Italy. Not a bad perk.
- 24D: Half-baked? (RARE) — think steak.
- 14A: Hercule's creator (AGATHA)— think Christie
- 27D: Consonants articulated with the tongue against the upper teeth (DENTALS)— technical linguistics terminology! I don't mind it! Has FRICATIVE ever been in the grid? No!? And not FRICATIVES either? What's the hold-up!?
See you next time.
[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter and Facebook]