PERSPECTIVE
Journeys to the farthest reaches of interactive entertainment
Until very recently, I’d never encountered the word ‘cruciverbalist’. But, having done the required etymological backwards-engineering to decipher its meaning, I think this word tells you a lot about the people to whom it refers. Of course we’re talking about crossword enthusiasts here. Who else would jigsaw-puzzle together a term out of Latin with this kind of glassespushed-to-the-bridge-of-the-nose smugness?
Alas, I must confess, the reason I came across this word in the first place is that I have recently joined their spectacle-nudging ranks, as a paid-up subscriber to both the NYT’s puzzle section and Puzzmo. While I dutifully chew through the daily selection each offers, really I’m here for one thing and one thing only: the undisputed king of the newspaper puzzle page, long may it reign.
One reason the crossword has held this throne for over a century, I’d posit, is that it requires – and is open to – the application of various skills. A broad vocabulary is useful, of course, as with most word puzzles, but you’ll also want a solid general knowledge and a fondness for naff puns. (I must content myself with having one of the three covered.) While leveraging these skills, you pick up more localised ones almost as a side effect, learning the form and its conventions: what it means, for example, when a clue ends in a question mark (ie, naff pun).
To a newcomer, these might seem like barriers to entry – not only because they demand foreknowledge but because of the self-appointed superiority they suggest. But putting aside the matter of rebuses, which radiate smugness so powerfully they should be banned under international law, these tropes are actually there to help you. Which is much appreciated as the week goes on and the size and difficulty of the NYT’s crosswords grows. By Friday I’m normally facing down a dense cluster, itself about the size of a mini crossword, up in the top right of the grid, where all the clues concern American airports and architects I’ve never heard of.
The genius of these games – and of crosswords too – is that you can always backpedal and try something else
It reminds me of arriving at a particularly baffling area of The Witness’ island or stumbling through an Elden Ring fog gate too early, delivering me to places where I cannot find any purchase. The genius of these games, though – and of crosswords too – is that you can always backpedal and try something else. Try picking away at the rest of the grid, and eventually one of its answers is sure to stray into that top-right territory, providing an intersecting letter or two. Maybe, by applying one of those newfound skills – the crossword setter’s fondness for hiding a proper noun’s capital at the start of a clue, say
