Ximenes On The Art Of The Crossword
We have now reached a stage at which it will be helpful to classify under their headings the chief devices which the composer of cryptic clues uses. The composer’s ideal, of course, would be a diagram in which every word, by the accident of its meanings or combination of letters, lent itself directly to the use of one of these devices. At the same time such an ideal diagram would consist of words which preserved a due proportion between the various devices to which they lent themselves. Such an ideal is in practice unattainable; the composer can, in the nature of things, only choose a certain number of his words, and some of those that he is forced to use to fill up each section of the diagram are sure to be intractable ones, which do not fall under any of the broad headings given in this chapter. These will therefore call for improvisation. In the end this may really be a good thing, though it gives the composer a lot of trouble; for the improvised clues which are eventually found to cover the intractable words will add variety to the whole puzzle and may even please the solver more, by their novelty, than the neatest of the normal types. Nevertheless, every sensible composer will still try to include in his diagram as many tractable words as he can: if he saves himself time in composing the diagram by always including, without regard for clueability, the first word which fits, he will find that the time saved, and probably more, is lost again when he comes to write his clues.
If one ignores minor variations, there are seven main headings under which clues to tractable words may be grouped:
1. Two or more meanings. 2. Reversals. 3. Charades. 4. Container and contents. 5. Puns. 6. Anagrams. 7. Hidden.
We will take these in order, but first it may be as well to point out that the clue-writer must never forget that his object is legitimately to deceive; so, if he is writing a clue to a word that lends itself readily to one of these seven kinds of treatment, he must do his utmost not to announce too obviously, by the form of the clue, the type to which that clue belongs. The really experienced solver, who knows the composer’s style, will often be impossible to deceive, however hard the composer tries; but every now and then an unfamiliar twist may do the trick, and the dropping of the penny, when it comes, will then give the solver that extra enjoyment which the composer aims to provide as often as he can.
I propose to use, as examples of each type, old Ximenes clues; but please — if you are not a Ximenean — do not be put off by this and think that it will all be too obscure! I shall choose, as far as I possibly can, clues to words in a normal person’s vocabulary, and clues, too, which do not demand in any of their parts specialised knowledge that can only be got from dictionaries or reference books. Very many of the examples given will not be so difficult as to be out of place in an everyday crossword. The answers to some of them will be held back till the end of the chapter, in case readers like to try to solve them from scratch.
1. Two or more meanings.
This is obviously the simplest form of cryptic clue: it departs less far than any other from the antiquated single straight definition or veiled definition. The composer will most often find it useful in dealing with short, common words of Anglo-Saxon origin; for these very often have a wide variety of meanings. His object will be to combine two or more of these meanings in a clue which embodies an artificial and misleading connexion in sense between them. The experienced solver will know, as usual, that what he reads doesn’t mean what it appears to mean; but he may be deceived for a while — for instance, he may not see at once whether only two meanings, or more, are being offered to him.
Let us take first two examples of the use of two meanings, “Fleeces, things often ordered by men of rank [6]”. This aims to suggest the noun ‘fleeces’, and the ordering of them from manufacturers by wealthy noblemen for use in luxurious wool-lined coats. But in fact it is the verb ‘‘fleeces” that is intended; ‘men of rank” are soldiers, not noblemen, who “order” the things referred to on parade. RIFLES is the answer: to fleece and to rifle are to plunder, and soldiers order arms.
“He went to hell — several of them, in fact [5]”. The solver will probably soon see that he wants the name of a person who went to hell (biblical?) and a word, which happens to be the same as that name, meaning hells, or hellish places. He may or may not quickly think of Dives (and Lazarus) and dives, disreputable resorts; if he doesn’t get it from scratch, no doubt a letter or two from crossing words will suggest it.
Now for three meanings. “What does a man in distress need? Bar that’s near [6]”. Notice that this doesn’t scream too loudly that three meanings are there: it seems at first sight to fall rather into two parts. But on further thought the acute solver may say to himself ‘Can there be a word that means ‘a near bar’?” Perhaps instead he wants a word that means in one sense ‘‘bar”’ and in another sense ‘near’. So the image of the neighbouring pub fades away: in time he thinks of “bar” =“except”, ‘‘near” = “stingy, economical” — and SAVING fits both of them, as well as being what a man in distress needs.
‘“That’s a bargain! — Swindled, proper [4]”. First note the exclamation mark; if I’m sticking to my resolution, the answer should be a genuine exclamation — or an outrage! This one really looks like a three-meaning clue, so try “swindled”. There can’t be many words so short with this meaning: DONE should suggest itself; and the done thing is the proper thing, and ‘‘Done!” satisfies the first part and justifies the exclamation mark.
Clues that include more than three meanings are rare: I use them chiefly in two ways. The first occurs when the addition of a fourth, and even a fifth, meaning seems to add something piquant to the picture presented by the clue, though it isn’t necessary or, strictly speaking, very helpful towards solution, e.g. ‘Pub charmer, serving spirit — 6s. 8d. to 10s. each [5]”. The first four words give three meanings of ANGEL — the name of a pub, a charming person, a spirit who serves; but the imaginary picture of a barmaid is, I think, improved by the suggestion of the high price of drinks, given by the fourth meaning, admittedly a dictionary one, of an old English coin with the stated value.
A glance at the dictionary would serve to make a solver sure he has got the right answer. The second purpose is to make, from the meanings of a word with many meanings, a large selection which, in telegraphese, can present the high spots of a dramatic career, thus: “Old-fashioned gamble — celebrate — arrest — custody — judge — defend successfully — continue as before [4]”. All these seven meanings will be found in the dictionary under HOLD.
The first is obsolete, but most of the others, either as verbs or nouns, are familiar. Here there is little attempt at deception — pretty clearly all seven bits are meanings; but the solver may be held up by not being able to see the wood for the trees. This last is obviously a device to be used only very occasionally.
Finally try these three; solutions will be found at the end to the chapter.
(1) “Irritation and worry? Eat out [4]”.
(2) “V.I.P. at fête is for broaching the booze [6]”.
(3) “There’s very little room outstanding at Oxford [5]”.
2. Reversals.
Opportunities for these are limited: not many words, when turned back to front, will form another word or words without more ado. But when this chance does arise, a neat clue is usually easy to find. One point, which has already been mentioned, is here vital: across words reversed go back, down words reversed go up, and we shall be guilty of inaccuracy if we disregard these facts in the interests of misleading sense, as some composers often do. There is always at hand one device open to the composer who is particularly pleased with a reversal clue, say, to a down word which involves making it go back, not up. The whole diagram can be turned inside out, so that the across words go down and vice versa. No difficulties arise: try it and see. It may be a nuisance, but it is worth while if the clue is a really good one and cannot be made sound by other means.
Here are two examples with explanations, and one for you to try to solve from scratch:
‘Heater with electric valve reflex — one just out’ [9 — an across word]. “Reflex” is clearly appropriate to the reversal of an across word: it would hardly suit a down word. An Etna is a heater, and tube can mean an electric valve; hence we get etnatubed reversed into DEBUTANTE, one who is “just out”, a nice change from the picture of the modern gadget.
“Loved one with glamour rises, splendidly attired” [7 — a down word]. This is an easy one for the hardened solver. ‘‘Rises”’ in a down clue always screams reversal, and “glamour” at once suggests that the reversal will end with “it” or “S.A.”: try TI_ _ _ _ _ or AS_ _ _ _ _ . TIARAED, dear-a-it reversed, should not be long in coming.
Now try
(4) “An ideal wife needs to get a meal to go round” [4 — an across word] — or “… needs to get a meal brought up” would do, if it were a down word.
3. Charades.
You all know this old-fashioned kind of riddle: ‘my first is …, my second is …, etc., my whole is…”. No doubt you acted in them as children. The essential thing was a word which would fall into convenient complete parts, and these are fairly common and are very useful material for cryptic clues.
As will be seen later, words not wholly appropriate for this treatment can be so used if one part is reversed, is mutilated in some simple way, or has its letters jumbled, or if an abbreviation is used for it — each of these devices must be clearly indicated in the clue.
We will take straightforward examples first, then a few more complex ones.
"Remains precisely how he is [5]”. Here is simplicity itself but simplicity disguised, perhaps, enough to deceive for a time, The solver might not at once think of “remains” as a noun, though he should always try to include every possibility. Again the idea of “he is” merely representing “he’s” might not: strike him at once because of its sheer artlessness. However, the answer is ASHES (as he’s).
“Voting against, told to go and vote for [7]”. A rather more interesting one, but not very difficult. Remember that in a charade clue the whole may come either first, as above, or last, as here, though in the old-fashioned riddle and game it always came last. “Voting against’? Think of pro and con: to tell someone to go is to send: therefore, CONSENT.
“Alas, the best of lawns do this [10]”. This is the subtlest kind of charade clue (not often possible) where the parts, in this case three words, form a coherent phrase: this makes the discovery of the type of clue being used harder for the solver. To cut a long story short, the answer is LACKADAISY (lack a daisy).
Before turning to the end of the chapter, try these two.
(5) “One in flames managed to make a landing [4]”.
(6) ”Puts hat on back to front — often clicks [9]”.
Note that the second of these is a good deceiver, because “back to front” at once suggests a reversal; but as the clue is given you in this section, you know it is a straightforward charade.
We will now proceed to complex charade clues, where one or more parts must be doctored in some way; the indication of the whole, the definition, can never be doctored thus, of course.
“What was Gertrude over Hamlet’s upbringing? She must have been crazy’ [6 — a down word]. ‘“Upbringing”’ points to reversal: Hamlet will probably be the Dane, reversed. _ _ ENAD, and G. was his mother: hence MAENAD, a crazed female worshipper of Bacchus.
“Spoil, or knock about? Mother, the latter’s wrong [8]”. Ma again? Yes. And ‘wrong” is a common sign of an anagram, or, more strictly; a jumbling of letters: a proper anagram is itself a perfect word, but for our purpose here a mere jumble serves just as well. So we want MA _ _ _ _ _ _ , the last six letters being those of “latter”: MALTREAT. Note the use of a double definition, harmless — perhaps even helpful — to the solver, used to complete the imaginary picture presented by the clue.
“To make one giggle in morning service [5]”. Here we have the use of an abbreviation for one part of the charade: AMUSE (a.m. — use) — a very simple one. Such a common abbreviation need hardly be indicated: rarer ones I usually hint at by “short”, etc.
‘“Armadillo-like tailless cat has burrowing habits [8]”. Zoologically speaking, this is evidently nonsense of a wild kind; seek rather an adjective meaning “like an armadillo” followed by a cat with the tail (last letter) removed, the whole being a burrowing animal. PLATYPUS (platy-pus-s), it must be. Finally a charade clue with both parts mutilated — not very neat, but legitimate:
“Bombers: half last Russian order nearly completed [6]”.
The first word fairly obviously indicates the whole: the first part must surely be la or st. If you remember the last war, you should think of STUKAS (st-ukas-e). Not heard of ukase? Bad luck! I said I would avoid dictionary words as far as possible, and I don’t think I have included many.
One for you to try, a not very difficult one, of the complex type, i.e. with one part doctored.
(7) ‘‘After the war, ruined, scrape, devoid of love [10]”.
4. Container and Contents.
Such clues resemble charades in having wholes and parts, but their parts are outside and inside instead of side by side. Opportunities for this treatment are probably more frequent for the composer than those for charades. These clues too can be simple or complex.
“I’ll be kept in by the beak for talking too much [5]”. A very easy one: NOISE (no-I-se). Notice “I’ll be”: “I am” would be criminally inaccurate, as we have already seen, because the letter I is third person. |
“With hardly a stitch? Do let me in unobserved [8]”. This resembles in subtlety the clue above to LACKADAISY, in that the contents form a self-subsisting (though very short) phrase. “Do let me” is equivalent to “can’t I?”: the container is sly, unobserved: hence SCANTILY.
Now for a clue in which the container is a two-word phrase, the contents a short word:
“Passing round the low-down (not compromising) [12]”.
Quite often you may do well to suspect an apparently unimportant parenthesis of being vital and, as in this case, giving you the definition. “Round” (unless it means the letter O, as it often does) may well point to a clue of the type we are discussing.
Then a word or phrase meaning passing will surround gen, the lowdown. The result is INTRANSIGENT (in transit).
Two for you to try.
(8) “Habits that are touching in cows [8]”. (Don’t forget that “cows” can be a verb.)
(9) “Parking solutions? ‘A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury’” [7]. (Allow for a little poetic licence in the use of the tag from Macbeth.)
Now for the complex form of this type. "Two cheats had up — an hour, kept in — or this?” [8 — a down word]. It looks as if the contents will be ‘hr.”, an abbreviation: two words meaning “cheat”, each reversed, will contain it. The: definition, then, can only be "or this?”, which surely must mean an alternative form of punishment to being kept in. It shouldn’t be too hard to find BIRCH-ROD (crib, hr., do). What about the hyphen? Yes, in Everyman and in most puzzles it would be indicated, but as Ximenes I withhold such help, though I do say ‘(2 words)” when that is applicable.
“Bridges, for example, long overdue: a top-class lot of engineers to be called in [8]”.
Abbreviations again. ‘“Top-class” must be AI (i.e. A1) or U (cf. non-U): “lot of engineers’? can only be R.E. As the general picture suggests engineering, get right away from it and remember that Bridges was poet LAUREATE (l-a-U-R.E.-ate). There are rather a lot of parts this time, and it is a somewhat clumsy clue as a result; but it illustrates possibilities.
Now try these two.
(10) “The Reds are 6 up in busy exchanges [8 — a down word]”.
(11) ‘“I’m very abstemious about hock — only a suspicion [7]”.
Before I leave this type, I want to point out that “over” is by some composers used for “round” It ought not to be, because it doesn’t really mean that.
5. Puns.
This type depends usually on what are technically called homonyms, words of different meaning having the same sound as each other. It can become monotonous, as puns in conversation undoubtedly can, and must not be overdone; but it is useful to the composer and, when skilfully used, can even amuse the solver, I believe.
A very simple example is: “German sounds in need of a regular brushing up [4]”. HERR (hair). This has, perhaps, little merit except the possible deception in the word ‘‘up”, suggesting a reversal, if it is a down word.
A rather more difficult one: “One of us is seen at Chiswick — or more, we hear [5]. Think of the boat-race and Chiswick Eyot: the answer is EYOTS (eights).
One involving two parts (and not actual homonyms): “Madame’s wear, we hear, is to be Scots-tweedy [7]”. “Madame’s” is probably just “her”: her suit is to be HIRSUTE.
I leave you to solve one which I prefer to any of these:
(12) “Sounds like the old grass to weed, and I’m tired! [7]”.
Don’t ignore the exclamation mark, which is a useful hint.
This type, I repeat, should not appear too often: for one thing, there are very few ways of indicating it to the solver, not nearly so many as there are with other types, such as the next that we come to.
6. Anagrams.
I am particularly fussy about these, and I am more inclined to be critical about their use by others than about that of any other type of clue. I have already emphasised how strongly I feel that they should be indicated by some word or phrase that can suggest that mixture of letters is to take place, that restraint should be exercised in the number used, and that they should not be indirect anagrams, which only give a synonym of the anagram instead of the anagram itself. Those who use this last type of anagram seem to me to disregard the fact that the subsidiary part of the clue, which is added to the definition, is meant to help, not to be a further problem in itself.
The anagram clues I like best are of two sorts — those in which there is a really appropriate connexion between the anagram and the definition, and those which come under my heading “& lit.”, which will be explained in Chapter VIII. There follow a few examples of the first sort.
“Halo Iris (mixed) for handsome heads (scented) [8]”. This sounds like something out of a nurseryman’s catalogue, but “mixed”, the most obvious of all indications, though appropriate here, shows the way. HAIR-OILS is the answer.
“The seating’s untidy: get a broom [7]”. Here “untidy” is the operative word, and you will soon find GENISTA.
“Port’s apt to make you steer it erratically [7]” Not your car, but TRIESTE.
“Le Spice is very naughty: cut out heavenly body [7]”. No pin-up here — merely the letters of ECLIPSE.
Finally a long one, involving the invention of what, I am sure, is a non-existent disease, but it completes the picture:
“Cerebro-acne’s rampant — a spreading growth [12]”. It might take you a little time here to find ARBORESCENCE.
A word here about long whole-word anagrams may not be out of place. Composers should beware of them, as they are apt to become hackneyed, e.g. carthorse and orchestra, antagonist and stagnation. I am conscious of having erred in this way myself, not, I hope, too often. The longest one I ever concocted for a Ximenes puzzle involved making an adjective plural — a bit of a cheat: ‘“This kind of poppy is a variety of the schizothecals [13]”’.
ESCHSCHOLTZIA. The adjective schizothecal was in the edition of Chambers that we were using at the time; now it has disappeared. Its meaning, of course, doesn’t matter.
Before we leave anagrams, try these.
(13) “Exertion makes us alter our belt [7]”.
(14) “Director of a buffet with questionable merits [6]”.
7. Hidden.
I will repeat here my caution to composers that this type is hopelessly obvious if it is at all overdone. Restraint 1s needed far more than with anagrams, Secondly, I hope I have converted composers who have read Chapter V to my belief that redundant words in the hiding-place — mere window-dressing — are inartistic, if not unfair; no word other than an article should occur in the hiding-place that does not contain at least one letter of the required word. a I won’t give many examples, because the type is so familiar:
“Give power to some of the policemen ~ a blessing [6]”.
ENABLE.
“Where they wear saris in thin diamanté [5]”. INDIA.
And finally one for you, possibly more subtle than most.
(15) ‘‘An item in fuel is somewhat fluctuating supply [6]”.
Answers to clues unsolved in the text above: