Word of the Day: SEMORDNILAPS (21D: Words that form other words when read backward) —
This is a close relative of the palindrome, a string of letters that reads the same backwards as forwards (“Madam, I’m Adam”; “A man, a plan, a canal: Panama!”; “Was it a car or a cat I saw?”).
In a semordnilap the text is likewise reversed but it must turn into something different. For example, if you reverse “diaper” you get “repaid”, and if you invert “desserts” the word “stressed” appears. A more complicated example is “deliver no evil”, but you can probably invent better ones for yourself.
As semordnilap is palindromes written backwards, it’s a self-referential word, one that encapsulates within itself the thing it represents. You could hardly say that it’s common, but many earnest palindromists have accidentally discovered it, and it has some small circulation among word wizards and elsewhere.
Derrida particularly favors the figure of a “headstrong dog,” possibly because dog, a semordnilap for god, helps him to configure an immanent versus transcendent ontology.—Animal Capital: Rendering Life in Biopolitical Times, by Nicole Shukin, 2009. (World Wide Words) (my emph.)
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I loved this puzzle, best puzzle I've done all week, except for two answers that ... well, I question their general familiarity. Really really question. They were fun to piece together, but seemed ... yeah, extremely off the beaten path. The first is the Word of the Day, SEMORDNILAPS, which, well, whoever coined that must really hate intelligibility because you cannot say it without sounding like you're trying to imitate some space alien language. Seems rather typical for a word nerd to prize cleverness ("it's PALINDROME backward, get it!") over functionality. It's actually an interesting phenomenon that should have a name, but this one is terrible. The only good thing about this name is that it helped me solve this crossword puzzle; that is, after a while, I realized that the gibberish I was looking at was going to be PALINDROME spelled backward (+ S). So I guess that counts as an "aha" moment, which is cool, but it was followed immediately by an "oh come on" moment. This is just another example of how, crossword / Wordle / Quordle obsession, I am actually an outsider in the world of Puzzle & Game People (the ones who Gotta Love 'Em All). The word "SEMORDNILAP(S)" was coined by a "recreational linguist" (!?) and only appeared in print for the first time in 1961 (and probably hasn't appeared much since). So ... I liked the "aha" moment and I liked learning a new *concept* but man I hate this word and also it is 100% obscure, if ever a word was obscure.
Also, to my mind, obscure, is the Romeo & Juliet quote (37A: Response to thumb-biting in "Romeo and Juliet" => "DO YOU QUARREL, SIR?"). Is this ... a famous quote? I could piece it together fairly easily, but ... is this just before Tybalt kills Mercutio (after Romeo steps in to try to stop the fight)? [looks it up] ... oof, no, it's from Act I scene i and is said by some minor character named Gregory (?!??!). I never teach this play, so the specifics are gone from my brain. Gregory? Gregory? Who is Gregory? How did this question become famous? Was there some pop culture moment that I missed, something that brought the quote to the forefront of general knowledge? Looks like "Gregory" is one of the Capulet servants and "has a tendency toward wordplay"—I wonder if he enjoys SEMORDNILAPS (or whatever they were calling them back then?). If I search "DO YOU QUARREL, SIR?" all the hits I get are just Shakespeare sites telling me it's from I.i of R&J. I can quote R&J a bunch, but this is not among the quotes I can quote. Luckily, this puzzle was so easy overall that neither of these (to me) obscurities created real trouble. And I learned a (terrible) word. And the Shakespeare quote is colorful and energetic, if nothing else, which brings me back to my initial point, which is that I loved this puzzle. More on that ... now.
I had NOEL for 1A: Merry air, but that got me nothing, so I wiped it and used LAGS and I'M IN to get LILT, and I was off like a shot. The Friday whoosh-whoosh feeling was in full effect for much of the solving experience. BIG IF TRUE! That was when I knew I was in. "I'M IN!" The fantastic juxtaposition of GET RICH QUICK and ATROCIOUS sent my hurtling down in the center, where HOT DOG BUN awaited me. STATS SANS STEP ended up being a staircase to the SE, which allowed DREAM TEAM to drop down and helped me pick up KETTLE DRUM and CHEAP DATE (great answers both). After working out the reverse palindrome thingie (can't bring myself to type that dumb word again), I just had those small corners in the NE and SW, and I was a little worried that they would somehow be my undoing (small corners on Saturdays can sneak up and kill you). But no. DRONE MUSIC before NOISE MUSIC (11D: Experimental nonmelodic genre), but OSLO took care of that. UNMOVABLE before IMMOVABLE ... shrug, not very interesting a mistake, but it happened. SW corner was easier. "MAY I COME IN?" (great answer) was too easy, and I had so much in place so quickly down there that ROSA PARKS went in without my even having to look at the clue. Wrote in the "B" in BIERS as my last letter and didn't get the "Congratulations!" messages, so panicked. After scanning the grid, I discovered an obvious typo (meant to type in METE and entered MENE (?) instead—I wish all mistakes were as easy to find as MENE crossing ISNN).
I knew MAUI because my wife is from NZ and "Polynesian mythology" is kinda in-the-general-culture down there (7D: Trickster in Polynesian mythology). I bought my daughter a picture book about the trickster MAUI when she was little. I didn't know a bunch of the other names in the grid today (NINA, EDDIE) but they were easy to get from crosses. No real trouble spots beyond the two big ones I've already covered. Overall, I just adored this one, and only wrote about the stuff I didn't like because my ignorance is more interesting (to me) than my prowess, and also I don't actually *hate* hate those two answers. They *do* involve two things I generally like (Shakespeare and wordplay). I just can't remember the last time I saw either a Shakespeare or a wordplay answer that was as ??? as those were. But if you're gonna expose me to obscurities, this is how you do it—make them at least colorful, and put them in a grid that is, in all other respects, a blast.
Neopronouns may be words created to serve as pronouns such as 'ze/hir' or 'noun-self' pronouns where existing words are turned into personal pronouns such as 'fae/faer' Some neopronouns allude to they/them, such as 'ey/em', a form of Spivak pronoun.
A survey by The Trevor Project in 2020 found that 4% of LGBT+ youth used neopronouns. The 2021 Gender Census of non-binary people reported that the most popular neopronoun was xe/xem, used by 8.5% of those who took the survey. (wikipedia)
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I found it! By "it" I mean "the Friday puzzle," of course. I don't think I've ever seen the Friday / Saturday sequencing get botched so bad as it was this week. It's hard to imagine test-solvers editors *and* test-solvers thinking "Friday" of yesterday's puzzle, and it's equally hard to imagine someone solving today's puzzle and thinking "Saturday." They are nearly perfect examples of their respective (ideal) days, and yet they got switched. Oh well. Thankfully, they're both wonderful puzzles. With today's, I want to start with the things I didn't like because there are so few of them—and they were both really jarring. So, WOKEST (43A: Most alert to social justice issues) ... that's a big thumbs-down from me. The very word evokes the Cult*re W*rs which are the very worst part of being alive today, and while I am all for the inclusion of any and all social justice-related issues or terminology you want to put in the grid, this term ... it's burnt, for me. I can't but hear it in a mocking voice, the voice of The Worst White People You Know. The superlative (i.e. -EST) form only heightens the appearance of jokiness and mockery. The -EST makes it very nearly a nonsense word. So if you don't think "social justice issues" are nonsense, maybe steer clear of this word. It's been taken over by ghouls. It's a tell—the people saying it the most believe in it the least. I feel about it like I feel about its older cousin, "PC." Hard Pass.
[this has nothing to do with the puzzle—just treat yourself]
I also balked at SPACE WESTERN, not because it's wrong, exactly, but because it feels weird and redundant. The term I know is SPACE OPERA, which has always included indebtedness to the American Western. In fact, if you look up lists of SPACE OPERAs, you will find "Cowboy Bebop" listed under anime examples. Anyway, SPACE OPERA is the more established concept, and SPACE WESTERN feels like an unnecessary subdivision. But I guess Gene Roddenberry referred to "Star Trek"—a paradigmatic SPACE OPERA—as a SPACE WESTERN at least once, so ... OK, maybe the WESTERN is just a subdivision of the OPERA. I think I am too close to the material. I've read and watched a lot of SPACE OPERA and enjoyed the genre's kinship with westerns (aka "oaters," or "horse operas," which I have also enjoyed). I have a huge collection of vintage paperbacks, many of them in the SPACE OPERA genre. I have a "Star Wars" poster hanging over my television—"Star Wars" is definitely SPACE OPERA, and "The Mandalorian" is in the Star Wars universe so ... you can see why OPERA felt like the right direction. I've watched (the original) "Cowboy Bebop"—I even have the soundtrack around here somewhere—and that too has been classified as SPACE OPERA. So the WESTERN subdivision feels like fiddly fine-slicing to my ear. But I'm quibbling with genre distinctions ... this isn't really the puzzle's problem. SPACE WESTERN exists even if I don't particularly have any use for it.
This is what I mean when I talk about the zoom zoom whoosh whoosh flooooow that, for me, is Peak Friday Experience. Long answers just shooting off like fireworks. INFINITY POOL! SILLY STRING! I was absolutely sold on the puzzle at this point. You had me at HALLOWS (I was gonna say "You had me at INFINITY POOL," but if you're evoking "Jerry Maguire" it's hard to lay off HALLOWS there) (8D: Makes sacred). Great (evocative, accurate) clue on HOME GYM (36A: Room where a Peloton may double as a clothing rack). The only slow parts for me were (duh) names. No idea who Wilson GOODE is (I assume it's not GOODE Wilson ... nope, Wilson GOODE). I see he was that city's first Black mayor (1984-92). Good(e) to know! I've probably seen Phillipa SOO before, but forgot her (47A: Broadway star Phillipa). Crosses took care of both these names pretty easily. I think I thought a SHOAL was like a sandbar or some other kind of shoreline ... entity. And it turns out I'm right. It just also means ... a bunch of fish. Why do we need this word when we have the perfectly good word "school?" I'm Glad You (I) Asked!:
In biology, any group of fish that stay together for social reasons are shoaling, and if the group is swimming in the same direction in a coordinated manner, they are schooling. In common usage, the terms are sometimes used rather loosely. About one quarter of fish species shoal all their lives, and about one half shoal for part of their lives. (wikipedia)
Tasty clue on TOM (56D: ___ yum (hot-and-sour Thai soup)). Wife is away for the weekend so the cats and I are sad. Might cheer myself up by ordering some TOM yum tonight (and then not sharing with the cats, who will then be ultra-sad). I have a weird urge to shout "EL AL, Y'ALL!" so I should probably stop writing and get coffee. Wonderful puzzle. Good day.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
P.S. A SCREENCAP is just a screenshot (short for "screen capture," I believe) (13A: Part of many a software demo, informally)
A long time ago, I was solving this puzzle and got stuck at an unguessable (to me) crossing: N. C. WYETH crossing NATICK at the "N"—I knew WYETH but forgot his initials, and NATICK ... is a suburb of Boston that I had no hope of knowing. It was clued as someplace the Boston Marathon runs through (???). Anyway, NATICK— the more obscure name in that crossing—became shorthand for an unguessable cross, esp. where the cross involves two proper nouns, neither of which is exceedingly well known. NATICK took hold as crossword slang, and the term can now be both noun ("I had a NATICK in the SW corner...") or verb ("I got NATICKED by 50A / 34D!")