Solving time: 30mins
This was mostly a doddle (for which I am extremely grateful), done whilst watching tennis and cricket on TV, eating breakfast and discussing the weather (43 Celsius yesterday and similar forecast today. The official terminology is “eyeball searing”. It must be summer in Perth.). There’s a few references I didn’t understand when solving, the odd obscure literary chap and a few drinks in the mix, but nothing to frighten the horses. Except that now I see that I have one wrong. It doesn’t pay to get too cocky.
Across |
1 |
SWITCH = S for singular + WITCH. Not the rabbit from a hat magician. |
4 |
ASSASSIN = ASS times 2 + IN |
10 |
A + VAL[rANCH]E = AVALANCHE |
11 |
Kalevala + EATS = KEATS, a not obscure poet who wrote poetry on Grecian urns (Wanton vandalism!). The Kalevala is a seminal Finnish masterpiece, as you no doubt all know. |
12 |
FOLLOW [ManlY] LEADER = FOLLOW-MY-LEADER. “Take in” = “follow” as in follow the drift. |
14 |
UTTER a double definition. I don’t know why I have a blind spot for utter, but it catches me out every time. |
16 |
TEST DRIVE = TEST + DRIVE. For those who don’t know, a drive is a cricket stroke, played with the bat in a vertical orientation. In its various guises it can end up almost anywhere in the field, including behind the batsman if well snicked. Whilst on the topic here’s a list of lists of UK rivers. |
18 |
SWINBURNE = SWIN[BURNs]E. Although I couldn’t name any poem he wrote or recite a single line, I thought he was vaguely connected with the Pre-Raphs and indeed he was. He also invented the roundel, which was quite an achievement in its day. |
20 |
CREE + L = CREEL, a wicker basket for catching fish, lobsters and the like. |
21 |
LORD OF THE RINGS, a double definition, the second cryptic. Sauron was the archvillain in Tolkien’s work, apparently. The M. of Q. wrote the rules of boxing (Rule 1: There are no rules) when he wasn’t defaming Wilde. |
25 |
INTRO = (TRIO)* around N for number. Funky is the anagrind; I’m not sure if it relates to dancing or panic. |
26 |
MARGARITA = (A GRAM)rev + RITA a cocktail made from tequila and citrus juice. |
27 |
TAPES + TRY = TAPESTRY |
28 |
FRIEZE = “frees” |
Down |
1 |
STAFF + N for name + (SURE)* = STAFF NURSE. The ‘s is short for “has” in the cryptic reading. |
2 |
Omitted. Ask if flummoxed. |
3 |
(RUM + COLA)* = CLAMOUR |
5 |
SWELL = aS WELL |
6 |
A WK + WARD = AWKWARD. “At” is in adjacent to. |
7 |
SNAKEBITE, a double definition. My last in. |
8 |
Ask if you don’t know the answer. |
9 |
SC[I MITt]AR = SCIMITAR |
13 |
Omitted. Ask the forum if stuck. |
15 |
THIN + ON + TOP for an expression relating to hair loss and the need of a cap to keep the sun from frying your brain (in Southern Hemisphere) or the snow from freezing it (in Northern Hemisphere). I forgot to mention that “leg” = “on” is another cricketing reference (fittingly). The on or leg side of the wicket is the side closest to your legs when you’re facing the bowler as a batter. If you wish to appear knowledgeable, the other side or off side is never called the arm side.
|
17 |
german SHEPHERD. Corydon is your generic shepherd, apparently. (There’s another short list in that Wiki reference of doubtful relevance.) The funniest thing I saw on Christmas telly was a manger attendee saying “Guten tag.” to the baby Jesus, explaining she’d come as a German shepherd; so this was an easy one for me. |
19 |
BEDDOES = BED + DOES, a poet and dramatist so obscure that even Wiki can’t think of much to say about him. Have I got the right one? Anyway, I had the wrong one when solving, confidently penning Bedgoes. |
20 |
CORSAIR = “coarse air” |
22 |
FEMUR = F[EMU]R. “Father” not being “pa”. |
23 |
NAIVE = NAtIVE |
24 |
FI[A]T = FIAT, a formal authorisation
|
But the bottom slowed me down. I was very dull about Beddoes, even though I’m probably one of the few people here who have actually read him. Then I allowed myself to get stuck on the crossing of ‘naive’ and ‘frieze’, wrongly guessing that ‘local’ was the literal. I only saw it after I got ‘frieze’. So 17 minutes for a rather easy puzzle.
Perhaps the next Monday offering will be a bit more challenging, although I’m not asking for an impossible one!
Minor note to Koro: at 16, you need “its”, not “it’s”.
We really enjoy this blog, even if it has already been “dead” for around 5 weeks or so, and visit every day.
Locating today’s (oz time) crossword is a bit tricky so I have used some of my immense store of leisure time to create a web-page to easily find any day’s blog and published it <a href = http://www.low.net.au/xwords/showlinks.html> here.</a>
I thought I would share it with all those Times Cruciverbalists who have occasion to access this wonderful puzzle via Australia’s only truly national newspaper and who may wish to avail themselves of the wonderful wit and expertise of Peter, Jimbo, Barry, Mark, Sabine etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…..
I would welcome any comments or suggestions for improvement.
Regards roylow
My biggest hold-up was in the SE corner where I took ages to spot the SHEPHERD/MAGARITA intersection. It wasn’t helped by wondering what type of dog might be associated with Croydon!
I’m not sure I have met “turkey” meaning a foolish person before, but anyway the answer at 4ac was obvious and indeed it was my first in.
I’ve looked at ODQ and recognised none of the 5 Beddoes quotes. But I did wonder whether an older Times puzzle would have done something really nasty with 24D and “I have a bit of FIAT in my soul, And can myself create my little world”. (His caps, not mine)
Tom B.
Tom B.
Some cultural references that were new to me: Kalevala, Corydon and Beddoes, though the last did ring a faint bell. Poetry and poets seemed to figure quite prominently in this puzzle
There were several cultural references that I didn’t get while solving, but the only slight hold-up I had was trying to think of a dramatist B-D-OPS before the penny dropped.
No problem getting SNAKEBITE – it was my staple drink during my late teens! Not sure I could drink one now, though.
I was thinking golf for drive but you could add tennis to the list.
I think a sign of the progress I’ve made in the last 2 years is chucking in fiat and no(s)h with barely a moment’s thought.
15 COD for me too.
For the second time in a few days I was flirting with the ten minute mark, and I was looking at sub 9 which I have never done, but for the dreaded 19d which I entered several ways before getting the right one. BEDSOPS was one that I thought plausible (a plot containing multiple beds??) but was far happier with the singular bed, so I think the wordplay fully validates the slightly obscure definition.
As I often try to work out why certain puzzles seem easier than others, I would say that this one was clearly a case of obvious definitions. A fair number of clues worked almost as a non-crytic, especially taking into account checkers, and all of 1A, 1D, 6D, 7D, 9D, 12A, 14A, 16A, 13D, 17D, 21A, 22D, 26A, and 27A came straight from definition.
Had just about heard of Thomas, the physician, but as I was already drowning in poets thought he must have written some limericks as well not realising he had an obscure offspring. Now tell me, if he feels compelled to use obscure people, why could this obsessed setter not have used the physician to form the clue around. He’s certainly no more obscure than the poet.
I’m hoping for tougher and better fare tomorrow.