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Inquisitor 1500

This time I’m going to point you at a puzzle already on the site, rather than a new one.  It’s my first Independent magazine puzzle from 8 October 1988, no. 5 in the series that reached 1500 this weekend.  That is close on 30 years ago (you can probably hypothesise what we’ll be doing come September next year), and I have racked up 140 of them since then.  They came quite frequently in the early days, but we’ve now settled down to about four a year.  You will have to solve the clues in the article with the puzzle to determine whether or not I have a hand in today’s extravaganza – after all, there’s a bottle of champagne at stake.  Though, really, who do you think they might ask…

There are now three barred puzzles in the UK weekend papers, and I certainly still think of them as different.  This harks back to the early days of the IQ puzzle when it was made clear that it was to be less of a challenge than The Listener.  That may not be the case these days – I’ve had one or two IQs that felt quite tricky, and the one currently being completed elsewhere in this iPad should join them, I think.  Nonetheless there remains some value in having a graduated approach to the form, and somewhere in the back of my mind the feeling remains that the IQ should be at the easier end of things.  You’ll be able to test that in August, when I have a Listener puzzle and another IQ a fortnight apart.

I contribute to all three weekend puzzle series and I used to have a sense of whether a puzzle idea was Listener, IQ or EV.  This is a different concept from difficulty, though they’re related; however, if an idea cleaves to one or other outlet I will tweak things to change how hard the puzzle is.  In the last couple of years this has become much more fluid, particularly around themes: I seem these days to have to consider that the IQ really shouldn’t have two consecutive puzzles based on 18th century Hungarian sculptors, so one should be directed to EV, or perhaps The Magpie.  The question then becomes how to make that theme feel more EV-ish or Magpovian.  Perhaps all this tinkering is merely a personal thing and we should end up somewhere near Bernstein on music: there are good puzzles and bad puzzles, and difficulty (and some of the other things we argue about) may not be so heavily-weighted a factor.

One thing you are missing from the article below the puzzle is the set of setter vignettes: single sentence descriptions of the participants. Marjorie and I produced separate versions of mine, with somewhat unsettlingly little overlap.  And then I lost the email, along with several years’ worth of its associates, so I can’t tell you what I was.

Ah.  Perhaps that’s too big a hint.

Well, you still have four other clues to solve to get your hands on the champers.  But if you do win, do have a toast to the next 1500.

For the next few weeks, you should see a Toughie on Tuesday 25 July, a Hellphire puzzle in the Crossword Club come August (which may prompt some more backward-looking musings in a fortnight), a Phi Listener on 5 August (you could also cast a glance at that day’s Jumbo), and once you’ve sampled The Times on 12 and 18 August as well, we’re back to the Inquisitor come 19 August.  

Winter strikes

This is another interstitial blog mainly to mention that a setter’s blog for my recent Enigmatic Variations puzzle Outrageous Simile is now on the site.

But also to comment, as all good Englishmen must, on the weather – this week has seen the worst storm of the winter so far.  On Thursday I rode in on a train that stopped frequently on the shoreline part of the journey; there’d be a slow move forward, and you’d here a small rock become dislodged and roll away from the tracks (it helped being in the front carriage), and then someone would fling 23 buckets of water at the carriage, and it would all repeat.  All in the pitch dark, of course, first thing in the morning.

As soon as I decently could, I made for home again, and worked remotely.  The trains did sort of run all day though with substantial delays at times, but I wasn’t taking any chances in terms of getting stuck in town for the night.  Mid-morning trains (including mine, of course) were held up by a fallen tree, which conveniently fell at a station where a large bit of machinery was in place to repair the overbridge damaged in last year’s earthquake, so the tree didn’t stay a problem for long.  I took some video on my phone and Marjorie has edited it into a Vimeo presentation.

Stormy Wellington Train Ride from Marjorie Dawson on Vimeo.

Today the storm has blown through, we have washing out in the sun, and we’re also about to get some gardening done.  That’s rather the way with these winter storms.

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Keeping the Numbers Up

I find myself between the appearance of an Enigmatic Variations puzzle and its setter’s blog, so this week’s puzzle is an earlier example from the series.

Back in 1998, you had somewhat longer to submit your entries, so the solution grid is for No. 308, which was clearly some sort of exotic Playfair puzzle.  (In fact – thank you, Mr Hennings – it was Nvvdsitssm by Radix, which simply screams Playfair, doesn’t it?  Artaxerxes, if you think that will help you decode it.)  What intrigued me was the names of the winners.  

First of all, they were in reverse alphabetical order, so I presume that reflects an order of drawing out of the hat.  The names were also all quite familiar: H J Bradbury (not sure I ever met him other than in winners’ listings), J E Green (who also gets everywhere) and P Henderson.

Which is curiously embarrassing for some reason.  I have, on the Beelzebub page, mentioned a curious coincidence around entering series one is a part of – I managed to win (albeit under a nom de guerre) the last Beelzebub my predecessor produced.  That felt ever so slightly wrong.  (I have subsequently seen a list of winners to a particular puzzle which included the setter’s real name – that did look fishy, but turned out to be a typo where the wrong week’s winners were printed.)

But it shouldn’t have – the crossword solving world is not so large, and newspapers count the entries to determine popularity.  (This is misguided, as a newspaper that omits its crossword will find there are plenty of non-submitters out there.)  So entering is a good thing to do.  But I have rather let it fall away since moving to New Zealand, though I note that the Enigmatic Variations series now has an email entry address (perhaps I should stop filling them in so scruffily…), and I do enter Magpie and Crossword Club puzzles ‘remotely’.  It involves a lot of scanning (especially of unusually shaped puzzles) so there still feels as if there’s a step or two to go to make the process as smooth as possible.

The EV blog will be along on or around Thursday, which is the day before there’s a Pedro in the Times Quick Cryptic slot.  

The world turns on its dark side

It’s the winter solstice we’ve just had, however warm the weather in the UK has been.  There was still a strawberry ripening undeterred this week, though, and we managed an alfresco lunch last weekend, once it had warmed up.  So the weather is still a little odd – even the current storm seems to be hurling its fury North and South, whereas usually it makes a beeline for Wellington in the middle.

Last time was probably too close to the UK election to risk a puzzle from that earlier representative of things pan-continental, The European.  So here it is this time round.  I’ve also updated the European page as I’d noticed I’d missed linking to one I put up earlier this year.

The Independent has for some time now allowed setters to design their own grids – I’ve racked up over 300 of such designs so the opportunity must have been around a while (2005 seems a likely bet, judging by date-stamps on grids I haven’t subsequently revisited).  Today I found myself with a ‘Nina’ that would happily sit in a pre-existing grid – indeed, I think it was easier to use such – so I riffled through some of the original grids (settling on no. 22).  It was rather nostalgic, so I may start resurrecting some separately from any that suit a passing Nina.  Grid 15 is first on the list – the rather savage one with multiply interlocking 15- and 9-letter entries.  Partway through filling it I did wonder whether nostalgia was quite as benign as all that…

There’ll be an update next weekend to accommodate the setter’s blog for this month’s Magpie puzzle.  Before that there will be a Toughie on 29 June while beyond it is an Enigmatic Variations on July 2, and a Times on 6 July.  There’s also an unexpected appearance by Hellphire in the July edition of the Crossword Club magazine CROSSWORD.  Independent Friday service is set to continue as normal…except when it doesn’t – keep your eyes peeled!


The end of the weekend draws nigh…

…and I have spent odd moments wondering what I can write this time.  And little has come to mind.

So, in brief, the new puzzle is an old Inquisitor from 1990 (one I am still rather amazed at regarding its amount of thematic content).  I did mention this one a while back as another example of capturing a musical form in a crossword, so you can have a look at it now.

There’s a Times Cryptic on Tuesday 13 June.  If there’s a Toughie in the offing I have yet to hear, so keep your eyes peeled for a Kcit at the Telegraph puzzle site.

The Listener date – confirmed as always subject to very occasional last-minute changes – is August 5, though before that there’s an Enigmatic Variations puzzle on July 2.  Something tells me there might be something special going on around Inquisitor 1500 later in July as well, though I’m trying to keep much of that secret from myself as well (one has to have something to look forward to).


A full week

The puzzle this time is one from the BBC Music Magazine in 2003.

Quite a lot going on this week, not least the passing of our oldest cat, who died on Wednesday after a sudden decline. Marjorie has a fuller story here.  Regulars will know that there will be a puzzle along in due course (the outline of it is beside me as I speak) though I think this one will not be so obviously feline in nature.

I also heard that the June Magpie will feature one of my puzzles, which confirmation arrived shortly after I’d gridded a puzzle which, on reflection, I thought had to be designated its hoped-for successor.  (It took me long enough to work out how to print the solution grid, for one thing, which might not go down well with the less specialist publications.)  There’s also the faintest hint of an oncoming Listener in the air, which means the semi-permanent note on my to-do list to devise a new one takes on a new urgency.

Before all that a Toughie squeezes into May by the merest whisker (31st).  And a Times Quick Cryptic follows on 7 June, before the next formal update.  But I will put up a setter’s blog for the latest IQ, Don’t Trust the Picture, somewhere around its closing date (also 31st May).  I suppose that means I’m going to have to go and write it now…

A classic puzzle book

It was the local Lions Club Book Fair last weekend, and I always look in.  And I always come away with a heap of stuff, as I think I may have mentioned before.  This time it was a large hoard of Russian Disc rarities (Book and CD Fair, I should have stressed) – Boris Parsadanian, anyone?  Clearly someone has either died or gone into streaming in a big way.

But I also found this:

Henry Dudeney was one of the foremost puzzle creators of the twentieth century.  This book seems to have been brought out by popular demand after his death in 1931.  (At least, the preface by his widow gives 1931, and you’d think she might have a reliable opinion in the matter, while the Wikipedia page says 1930 (though giving two different dates in that year).)  The book is divided into eight sections, starting with ‘Arithmetical and Algebraical Problems’ (itself divided into six sections) and ending with ‘Unclassified Problems’.  

The puzzles are presented with that strange sort of lumbering grace, wherein Colonel George Crackham (or his wife Dora, or Professor Rackbrane) suddenly start pointing out curiosities about bags of coins while helping themselves to marmalade at breakfast, or mentioning that Atkins, Brown and Cranby each have to do a journey of forty miles.  (The Crackhams seem to be particularly prone to suddenly throwing out little mathematical problems at guests and relatives, and even passing shepherds.)  Things are ‘absurdly easy if properly attacked’ (one wonders if the Crackhams are ever attacked…) though you do need to have a working knowledge of both Imperial measures and predecimal coinage (one puzzle requires the ability to work in farthings reaching a total that just happens to be the product of two improbably large prime numbers).

Answers are included.  (One ends, testily, that the answer is not that the Swiss have no navy, while a nearby one promises that the answer doesn’t just apply in Sussex.).  They don’t make them like this any more.

This time the puzzle is another unpublished Beelzebub.  The next couple of weeks sees a Times puzzle on Thursday 18th May, and an Inquisitor on Saturday 20th May (a setter’s blog will follow in due course).  I should also mention the Times Jumbo on 27th May, just in case I don’t put the next post up till the Sunday of that weekend.

The Apex 2016 puzzle

It’s the time of year when I put up the annual Christmas puzzle, circulated to a group of regular solvers in memory of Eric Chalkley – more details of the tradition here.  You might even set your calendar by me this year – it looks like I’ve hit exactly the same weekend as in 2016, though I’m putting the puzzle up on the Saturday rather than the Sunday this time!

It was generally considered a bit harder than some of its predecessors – though there were a few who found it straightforward enough.  You’ll just have to try it for yourself!

Remember that part of the puzzle is to determine a word to be clued.  The solvers then write a clue to that word, and these clues are circulated to everyone for voting.  My only job is to transcribe them accurately (which I think I’ve managed to do so far) – I don’t vote myself, although I do offer up a clue for consideration.  (And I don’t even spend months in advance using the fact that – necessarily – I know the word to be clued to hone an entry – I tend to scribble something down just after circulating the puzzle in mid-December, but before I see any other entrants’ ideas!)

This year’s winners are listed at the end of the solution notes.

We’re about to swing into May, and to enliven the first week there’s a Pedro Quick Cryptic in The Times on Wednesday 3rd in addition to the usual Friday Independent puzzles.  There’s an Inquisitor in the offing, too, but more of that next time.

Happy Easter

Here we are after the passage of Cyclone Cook (well, weakening subtropical low Cook by the time it reached us) and very little of the threatened chaos came to pass in this neck of the woods (sadly, other parts of NZ have not been so lucky).  Even our three metre hollyhock came through unscathed, though it may be at an even more outrageous angle now.  There was enough concern to keep me awake and apprehensive throughout the night, though, but the one major downpour only kicked in just after I did drop off.

Easter is a time for holiday puzzles so I have set to and transcribed an Easter Jumbo from The Independent of over a decade ago.  I took the liberty of modifying one clue – when I looked at it, I immediately thought I couldn’t have intended that, and blamed the editor.  But my hard copy says exactly the same.  And it really doesn’t feel right.  (Actually, I should own up to deleting a whole comma in one other clue.)

I will also shortly be adding a new setter’s blog covering my latest Enigmatic Variations puzzle, Fugue (I’ll try to remember to convert part of that sentence to a link when I do).  I’m not quite sure of the precise closing date any more, so I am dependent on fifteensquared‘s blog!  (Or the EV editor dropping me a Facebook message – link now activated.)

I am filling the Independent’s Friday slot with what was intended to be next week’s puzzle (but the vagaries of clashing vocabulary have led to a swap).  Since the Independent allowed setters to devise their own grids, I have produced 300.  This one came from thinking about long entries, and whether it was possible to have consecutive grid rows of 15, 14 and 13 – the answer is yes, and there’s also something to mark the 300-ness of things.  Next week grid 299 finally gets in.  And after this, fewer odd grids.  Maybe.

New Zealand mourned the loss of John Clarke this week.  He was Australia’s leading political satirist, and, though a Kiwi, took on the role in Australia because the powers-that-be in NZ were a little terrified of the possibility.  (He did leave NZ the enduring national character of Fred Dagg.)  One of Clarke’s hits in Australia was a spoof on the 2000 Sydney Olympics, and that seemed to inspire a sporting vein, since he shortly afterwards produced The Tournament, a book I came across when Radio 3 chose selections as interval readings during concerts in Wimbledon fortnight.  Clarke’s tournament is unique in that the participants are significant cultural figures from between roughly 1870 and 1970 (artists, scientists, musicians, film stars, etc. – not military or political types) – and they play tennis according to their cultural roles: Einstein’s serve only seems to be faster than light, while no-one’s sure how Amelia Earhart was seeded, because her best performances aren’t on any surface at all.  It’s a vehicle for parodying sports reporting, as well as a repository for countless, often rather erudite jokes (Godel queries how the score in his match can be tied 1-1 after two games, as he can demonstrate that there may be situations where 1+1 is not equal to 2).  There’s nothing quite like it, and it is always worth dipping into.  In all the encomia surrounding his passing, no-one has mentioned this gem, so I’m trying to even things up.

Next time round will see the appearance of the 2016 APEX puzzle.