Word of the Day: Emily TESH (20A: Emily ___, winner of the 2024 Hugo Award for Best Novel) —
Emily Tesh is a science fiction and fantasy author. She won the 2024 Hugo Award for Best Novel for her first novel, Some Desperate Glory. She won the World Fantasy Award in the novella category in 2020, and the Astounding Award for Best New Writer in 2021. [...] Some Desperate Glory is a science fiction novel by Emily Tesh, with political themes and "thrilling action," according to reviewers. It was published in spring 2023 by Tordotcom. [...] According toLisa Tuttle, writing forThe Guardian: "The well-told story combines thrilling action with more thoughtful content, touching on such hot topics as AI, fascism and gender politics, and looks like another award winner." // A starred review inPublishers Weeklyconcluded: "The political theme of breaking away from fascist ideology pairs beautifully with smart sci-fi worldbuilding ... and queer coming of age." // In theWashington Post,Charlie Jane Anderswrote, "the story blends thrilling action with a mind-bending course in cosmic metaphysics, which keep shifting your sense of what this book is about." (wikipedia)
• • •
Sorry, short write-up today as somehow a work emergency (!?) has fallen in my lap overnight (on the weekend!? I teach English ffs, this shouldn't be happening!), and I need to attend to it immediately. I'm really glad this puzzle played relatively easy for me, because after getting the infuriating work email first thing upon waking, I was in No MOOD for excessive struggle, despite the fact that it's Saturday and "struggle" should generally be part of the brief. I could tell early on that the puzzle was going to skew young(er)—I mean, I could've guessed it from the constructors (two lovely people whose combined ages don't even reach my own, I don't think), but then stuff like 27A: "That's so relatable," in modern slang ("MOOD") and 42A: "Gossip Girl" fashion descriptor confirmed it. Though I will say, looking the puzzle over now, it's actually pretty light on generationally specific stuff, and light in general on the kinds of proper nouns that tend to feel generationally exclusionary. The clues on ADAM, WOOLF, ERROL, for instance, could've come from the year 2000 or 1975 or even earlier as easily as the year 2025. This is to say that the puzzle had a youthful swagger but a broad-minded outlook. There's lots of stuff to like here—or hate, if that's your vibe today, I suppose. Me, I mostly like it. I am (now) a not-so-SECRET ADMIRER (though you're never gonna convince me that DREAM YOGA is real, no matter how much supporting material you throw at me) (15A: Tantric meditation practiced while in a sleeping state).
The only thing I didn't particularly care for today was ONE-PAGER, but then "business lingo" always rubs me the wrong way (probably because I absolutely do not speak it ... and find much of it silly-sounding) (13D: Short product overview, in business lingo). ONE-PAGER sounds pretty ordinary, though. I've assigned ONE-PAGERs (i.e. one-page papers) to students before, so while this "business lingo" version is unfamiliar to me, the phrase itself doesn't sound ridiculous to my ears (always nice). I also didn't care for the clue on TESH—I love that there's a new TESH in town (move over, John), but it seemed weird to clue her as having won the Hugo for Best Novel and then not saying what that novel is!? It's her first novel! If it was good enough to win the damn thing, then go ahead and name it! It wouldn't have helped me (I wouldn't have known her name either way), but the clue would've seemed like it was at least doing something useful. If you're gonna introduce a new name, a name that wouldn't be crossworthy except for a single book, Name The Book. Let people know. (Bizarrely, TESH'sSome Desperate Glory is actually in my house right now—I bought a handful of highly recommended new fantasy/scifi books last summer in a fit of aspirational consumption, and then promptly failed to read most of them ... maybe now ... maybe now (he said to all the unread books on his shelves ...)).
OK, short write-up, I said!! I met both Sarah and Rafa at the ACPT earlier this month, so it seemed fitting (to me) that the first entry in the puzzle was EGG-HEADED (it was nice to be in an environment so thoroughly EGG-HEADED that the term ceases to have any meaning). My daughter is home now (and for a few more days), and so the "Night owl" / LATE RISER clue made me smile (our sleep schedules are almost completely upside-down). I liked the alliterative "H"-fest in the middle of this grid, which also seemed like a vaguely thematic grouping. If you throw a successful HAIL MARY on your HOME TURF, you might wanna enjoy a HOT PAD after the game. The only trouble for me today was pinning down that "H" at TESH / HAIL MARY (thought she might be a TESS and couldn't parse HAIL MARY, esp. with that elliptical clue (21D: Hard pass?)). I thought "hard" might be literally hard, like rock hard, so even with the "H" I was thinking HAIL as in hard rain, not HAIL as in HAIL MARY. I couldn't make sense of "fashion descriptor" in 42A: "Gossip Girl" fashion descriptor (PREPPY). "Descriptor" was the stumbling block. Who is doing the describing? When? Where? It seems like the clue just means "how one might appropriately describe the fashion on Gossip Girl," OK. Also weirdly struggled with 43D: Something picked in a fortunetelling game (PETAL). "What the hell is a fortunetelling game?" I couldn't think of any. Magic 8 Ball? Is that a "game"? But no, the "game" in question appears to be some version of "(s)he loves me, (s)he loves me not ..."
What else?:
17A: "Would you like a bite?" ("WANT TO TRY?") — absolutely fine, and yet when the answer is colloquial like this, I expect it to be properly slangy, which means I tried to make "WANNA" answers happen for a bit.
27D: Traditional treat in Japanese New Year celebrations (MOCHI) — I did not know this about MOCHI. I feel like MOCHI had a moment (in the U.S.) several years ago and then faded, but maybe they're still going strong and I've just tuned them out. Actually, now that I think of it, I'm thinking of MOCHI ice cream, not MOCHI per se.
26A: ___ Dunn (brand of ceramic art and other housewares) (RAE) — never heard of it (seriously, this time)
23A: Countdown occasion, for short (NYE) — New Year's Eve
31D: Words on a statue honoring Washington (BEST ACTOR) — loved this clue. Took me a few beats to realize the "Washington" in question was Denzel (Best Supporting Actor for Glory, BEST ACTOR for Training Day). Washington is currently playing Othello on Broadway (to great acclaim and massive box office success—although ticket prices are apparently, uh, very high).
22A: "The young man who has not ___ is a savage": George Santayana ("WEPT") — I had the "W" and "T" and wrote in ... WANT. I thought it was a commentary on the savagery of the rich.
THEME: hmm ... I mean, no, not technically, but there is, as Led Zeppelin once say, a whole lotta love (for Valentine's Day, I presume)
Word of the Day: matoke (44D: Its national dish, matoke, is made from green bananas => UGANDA) —
Matoke, locally also known as matooke, amatooke in Buganda (Central Uganda), ekitookye in southwestern Uganda, ekitooke in western Uganda, kamatore in Lugisu (Eastern Uganda), ebitooke in northwestern Tanzania, igitoki in Rwanda, Burundi and by the cultivar name East African Highland banana, are a group of starchytriploidbanana cultivars, originating from the African Great Lakes. The fruit is harvested green, carefully peeled, and then cooked and often mashed or pounded into a meal. In Uganda and Rwanda, the fruit is steam-cooked, and the mashed meal is considered a national dish in both countries. [...] East African Highland bananas are one of the most important staple food crops in the African Great Lakes region, particularly for Uganda, Tanzania, Kenya, Burundi, and Rwanda. Per capita annual consumption of bananas in Uganda is the highest in the world at 0.70 kg (1.5 lb) daily per person. [...] East African Highland bananas are so important as food crops, the local name matoke (or more commonly matooke) is synonymous for the word "food" in Uganda. [...] Matoke are peeled using a knife, wrapped in the plant's leaves (or plastic bags), and set in a cooking pot (Swahili: sufuria) atop the banana stalks. The pot is then placed on a charcoal or wood fire and the matoke is steamed for a couple of hours; water is poured into the bottom of the cooking pot multiple times. The stalks in the bottom of the pot keep the leaf-wrapped fruits above the level of the hot water. While uncooked, the matoke is white and fairly hard; cooking turns it soft and yellow. The matoke is then mashed while still wrapped in the leaves or bags and often served on a fresh banana leaf. It is typically eaten with a sauce made of vegetables, ground peanut, or some type of meat (goat or beef). (wikipedia)
• • •
This puzzle is driving me crazy. Either there's something brilliant that I'm missing, or it's maddeningly ... incomplete? Suggestive without being fully thematic? It's obvious that there's some Valentine's Day **** going on here. I don't know that I would've noticed it had I not thought about the date, but once I *did* notice it, the "love" stuff seemed to be Everywhere, from the central CATCH FEELINGS to ... well, jeez, look around. THE KISS, ONE LOVE, CANOODLE, "SO SWEET!," AMOUR, ROMCOM ... SARAH's name is even in the grid, which is starting to make me wonder, "Is this a crossword proposal?" Like, is there a coded message somewhere in here, asking someone to marry her? Someone named LLOYD? LEELA? I see WOOS? I see IDOS?! I mean, "ARE YOU IN?" is crossing her dang name! What am I supposed to think? TODATE or not TODATE (anymore, but to get married instead), that is the question. See, you start thinking "Love" here and you just can't stop—it's everywhere. But also, you (I) feel like a crazy person, reading it into everything. I'm even looking at TAKES THE L and wondering if the "L" is "Love," looking at I'M DOING OK and wondering if the "OK" is supposed to evoke the dating app OK *Cupid* (hello, Feb. 14!). If there is a metapuzzle here and it has some kind of key or solution, I haven't found it. Is love just A GAME? Does it have you IN A TRANCE? I really want to figure this puzzle out, but then I think it's unfigureoutable.
I'm gonna have to look to see if there are constructor notes, which I hate doing (puzzles should stand on their own without special pleading!) ... hang on ... [checks constructor notes] ... well, sigh, nope, no answers there. I mean, yes, it's definitely got Love-y stuff in it, but it's technically still a themeless. I'm so used to solving tough metapuzzles (at other outlets) that I really really Really thought this one was going to have some ... final answer, something coherent that it was suggesting or spelling or ... something. Kinda disappointing that it's just kinda sorta Love-y. I think this is probably why the puzzle felt a little on the weak side (for a Friday themeless). Hard enough to get a 70-worder clean when you are simply looking for the best fill—when you are also requiring much of that fill to fulfill certain semi-thematic criteria ... well, you're just not going to get the very best outcome, from a pure puzzle-solving standpoint. Which is why I wanted the payoff of a real theme. But then I didn't get it. So I end up betwixt and between. Commits to neither theme nor themelessness, and leaves us in a weird no-man's-land. Bah.
OK, let's put love aside. What's love got to do with it? Love, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing! No wait, that's war. Anyway, treating this puzzle as the themeless that it *technically* is, I thought it had some bite. Wasn't just a pushover. I actually had to fight reasonably hard to push up into that NE section. The endings of the long Downs were doing Nothing for me. Eventually the "chart" part of 12D: They might involve a Snellen chart got me to think EYE TESTS, and from there, I had the traction I needed, but still, NOSE RINGS? No idea. And ADSENSE, ugh. I'm familiar, now that I see it, but I can't think of a more unwelcome bit of fill (OK, I can think of some, but not a lot). The very clue, [Google platform for web monetization], makes me want to gouge my eyes out. Is there anything less mellifluous than that? Did their AI search algorithm write that clue? Dead behind the eyes, that one. No "Love" have I for that answer. But I loved KITTEN CHOW because I love kittens and I loved CATCH FEELINGS (a very common, very modern phrase—one that I could never use with a straight face, but one that the youngs seem to like, or at least sing about) (36A: Develop emotions (for)). I really love the clue on MEDIUM RARE (26D: A little unwell?)—the meaty misdirect on that one is perfect. And the most important album of my adolescence, the one I bought with my own money and taped and played on my Walkman nonstop in 1982, was All Four One by the Motels, so even though it's the opposite of a "Love" song, I appreciated the (oblique) "Take the L" reference (8D: Accepts defeat, in slang = TAKES THE "L")
Two authors I didn't know at all today. LLOYD and GAIL both wrote things I've never read. The LLOYD Alexander books, "The Chronicles of Prydain," actually sound like I might like them (or might have liked them, if I'd known them when I was twelve) (16A: ___ Alexander, author of the fantasy series "The Chronicles of Prydain"). But those two authors and the NOSE RING were all total stumpers for me today (11D: Symbol of social status in ancient Mesopotamia). No idea about Audra McDonald's Ragtime role either, but SARAH was easy enough to infer. Didn't love the duplicated "IN" phrases (IN CASH, IN A TRANCE), and really don't love the clue on IN CASH (32A: Completely fluid). Isn't the term "liquid?" If it's cash and the metaphor is a non-solid, I think "liquid." Not "fluid."
["I'm not crazy, I'm just ... [A little unwell?]"]
Bullets points:
50A: Fútbol stadium cry (GOL!) — pretty sure this is misspelled. My experience is you need at least six if not seventeen "O"s to capture the actual "cry":
24A: Nice chunk of change (TIDY SUM) — this answer is lovely. Nothing to say about it, just wanted to shout it out.
33D: Where the ka and ba reunite, in Egyptian mythology (AFTERLIFE) — "ka" is the life force and "ba" is the personality and soul. There's a whole explanation here. It's all news to me.
See you next time. And Happy Valentine's to all who celebrate.
THEME: THE NUTCRACKER (39A: Classic ballet set on Christmas Eve, with a hint to four black squares in this puzzle) — four black squares have little nutcracker teeth in them, and each squares is "cracking" a kind of "nut" (i.e. the square separates the first letters of the "nut" from the latter letters)
Theme answers:
ESCAPE = CANETOAD (17A: Word before room or key + 18A: Invasive amphibian introduced to Australia in the 1930s)
LIPBALM = ONDRAFT (23A: Moisturizing stick + 25A: Available from a keg)
PAYCASH = EWGROSS (54A: What you may have to do if someone doesn't take charge + 56A: "That's disgusting!")
EUROPEAN = UTOPIA (62A: Latvian or Liechtensteiner + 66A: Perfect world)
Word of the Day: TUSH Push (41D: ___ Push (N.F.L. play also known as the Brotherly Shove)) —
What is a tush push?
The tush push is a play in American football in which the quarterback receives the ball and is immediately pushed from behind by other players.
The tush push, also known as the Brotherly Shove, is a new variation of an older football play known as a quarterback sneak. In the quarterback sneak, the quarterback receives the ball and immediately surges forward by themself to gain any yards they can. In the tush push, the quarterback is pushed forward by other players positioned behind them.
The popularity of the name tush push for this play and the popularity of the play itself are linked to the 2022 Philadelphia Eagles. The Eagles performed the play 46 times during the 2022 season and had a 92 percent success rate (the rate at which the play resulted in a first down or a touchdown). The play was often said to be unstoppable largely due to the skill of the Eagles’ offensive linemen, especially center Jason Kelce, and the strength of quarterback Jalen Hurts. The Eagles reached the Super Bowl in 2022, helped by the frequent success of the tush push. The play was so effective that it was rumored that the NFL would ban it following the 2022 season. (dictionary.com)
• • •
Everything I could ask of a holiday puzzle. First, it appears on the day (you'd be surprised, or you wouldn't, how often this one criterion isn't met). Second, the whole puzzle is holiday-saturated, with (in this case) Christmas, or the spirit of Christmas Eve, I guess, expressed not just in the theme, but in many of the clues. It's just soaking in there, like brandy soaking into a fruitcake. SHEEP, RED, even PATH gets a bit of the White Christmas treatment—all without making the clues feel forced or awkward. Third, the puzzle comes at its theme kind of obliquely. If you'd asked me "how would you do a Christmas Eve theme?" it's possible I would've hit on the ballet eventually, but it is unlikely. I'd be all in the weeds, looking at "things that come before ... other things" and "people named Eve doing ... something" etc. I actually forgot / didn't exactly know that THE NUTCRACKER was Christmas Eve-specific, despite having seen it many times (as a child—they made us go to that **** every year!). Then you've got a pictorial element that actually makes sense. At first I had no idea what was happening with those thematic "black" squares. I thought they were bridges from one Across answer to the next. And even when I got the "nutcracker" bit I thought "HMM, those don't really look like nutcrack- ... oh, wait, the actual nutcrackers From The Ballet! OMG yes, those scary weird teeth, YES!" Strange to see them disembodied, but still: iconic. The last wonderful thing about the theme (and this goes beyond the holiday element) is that it doesn't find the nuts for you! I mean, they aren't in shaded squares or circled squares or whatever. It lets you pick them out for yourself. It trusts you to Get It. Thank you for that, puzzle. (I mean, you're unlikely to miss the nuts, but still, I appreciate the fact that they weren't specifically highlighted). Throw into the mix the fact that the grid is varied and polished and bright, and you've got a very good puzzle. Just a lovely holiday offering.
Grinch Rex says: "Why don't the nutcrackers work in both directions? What about the Downs? I've never heard of a CHELCA nut? And why in the hell would you put a CAPON in your nutcracker? The whole damn chicken? Unlikely." You may be wondering: "How is 'Grinch Rex' at all distinguishable from Actual Rex?" To which I would reply, [flat tone, expressionless face] "ah, yes, ha ha, good one." The only thing Actual Rex didn't like about this puzzle was ONE-ALARM, which is a ridiculous adjective with no real application beyond fires and dubious chili heat rankings (68A: Mild chili designation). I'm also still trying to warm up to EL CAP as an abbr. (I grew up in central California and don't remember this being a common abbr. for El Capitan, but there's a reasonable amount of attestation out there, including at Yosemite's own website) (31D: Yosemite peak, familiarly). Surprised to find that EL CAP is a NYTXW debut today, as I have definitely seen it in other puzzles (nearly put it in the commissioned puzzle I made last year when I got a little desperate). But I can't say I have any real significant complaints at all today.
I did have some trouble, minor trouble, here and there, starting with forgetting that HESTIA existed at all (2D: Greek goddess of the hearth). I was like "VESTA ... is Roman ... and doesn't fit ... H- ... HE ... yeesh, is her name actually just HEARTH?" I've heard of HESTIA, but yeah, barely. But then I made up for not knowing that one with knowing CANE TOAD cold, no problems, no crosses needed (18A: Invasive amphibian introduced to Australia in the 1930s). The Simpsons helped me with that one.
I struggled to spell WHUP, for sure (57D: Trounce, informally). WHUP, whomp, whap, I don't know! WHUP seems best, in retrospect, but sadly I don't solve in retrospect. The puzzle gets a little name-y there for a bit with the TARA HUEY OCHOA line-up, but those were all easy enough. HUEY Lewis & the News sang several songs on the Back to the Future soundtrack (well, at least two: "Back in Time" and the band's first #1 hit, "The Power of Love").
Notes:
4D: Uber calculation, for short (ETA) — "for short"!!!! I really should read the whole clue. I had TAX and TIP in here at various points.
33A: Confidentiality contract, for short (NDA) — non-disclosure agreement.
60A: Office monitor, in brief (OSHA) — true enough, though I was expecting one person (like a "hall monitor" in grade school) not the whole damn Occupational Safety and Health Administration.
51D: Ado (HOOPLA) — wow, that is one hell of a kealoa.* I had the "H" and wanted only HUBBUB. (actually, technically kealoas are supposed to be short and common, which HOOPLA/HUBBUB is not, but the principle still applies—the clue works for two different answers that share a letter (in this case, the initial "H").
1A: Image on a "Fleece Navidad" sweater, perhaps (SHEEP) — I got the ("Feliz Navidad!") pun but somehow thought that "fleece" was the "sweater" material, and so got kinda confused. Wrote in SANTA at one point.
64D: Color associated with Santa since an 1881 Thomas Nast cartoon (RED) — Nast was a famous political cartoonist. He did Christmas illustrations for Harper's Weekly, and that's how Santa got his iconic look. Not sure which illustration the clue is referring to. One site I read had Santa turning RED in 1869, when one of Nast's Santa cartoons was reprinted in color for an edition of "A Visit from St. Nicholas." As for 1881, I keep turning up this image, which was later colorized, I think, but appeared originally (it seems) in B&W:
That's all for the puzzle today. Let's look at a few more Holiday Pet Pics now.
Poor Willie. This looks like a hostage photo. He better have gotten a mountain of treats for this.
[Thanks Leena]
Mindy here is a Morkie, which I believe means "Maltese + Yorkie," but may also mean that she's from a space alien (Morkie ... Mindy ... Morkie Mindy ... Mork & Mindy ... oh, you saw that on your own, did you? Sorry). Anyway, she loves Chanukah.
[Thanks, Karen]
Momo is a rescue greyhound. Look at this sweet face. No more racing, only treats and silly hats.
[Thanks, Rex]
Kathie sent me this picture of Sophie—an actual Yorkie, no Mork involved. It's not even Kathie's dog. It's her daughter's. But you can see why she couldn't resist sending it in. Santa's Little Sleeper (and in RED, too):
[Thanks, Kathie]
Finally, a pair of cats from reader Andrea—here's Chobani, who is all about Christmas, when she isn't about yogurt (presumably):
And then Theodore ("Teddy Bear"), who isn't much for Christmas, but Andrea didn't want him to feel left out, so she sent his picture in too.
[Thanks, Andrea]
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
*kealoa = a pair of words (normally short, common answers) that can be clued identically and that share at least one letter in common (in the same position). These are answers you can't just fill in quickly because two or more answers are viable, Even With One or More Letters In Place. From the classic [Mauna ___] KEA/LOA conundrum. See also, e.g. [Heaps] => ATON or ALOT, ["Git!"] => "SHOO" or "SCAT," etc.
Word of the Day: Daisies (12A: Bunch of Daisies => TROOP) —
Daisy is the initial level of Girl Scouting. Named for Juliette "Daisy" Gordon Low, they are in kindergarten and first grade (around ages 5–7). They meet in minimally groups of five girls with two adult leaders who help the girls plan activities to introduce them to Girl Scouts.
Daisies earn the Promise Center and Petals, which focus on the Girl Scout Law and are placed on the front of the tunic in a daisy design. They also earn Leaves and Journey Leadership Awards. Their uniform consists of a light blue tunic. They may also wear their tunic with a white shirt and khaki bottoms or with an official Girl Scout Daisy uniform. The Girl Scout Membership Star is worn with blue membership disks and they wear the Girl Scout Daisy Membership Pin.
Daisies use the Girl's Guide to Girl Scouting for Daisies and the National Leadership Journeys to work on activities, may camp only with a parent present, and have the option to sell Girl Scout cookies. They may earn the Daisy Safety Award and the Bridge to Brownies Award. (wikipedia)
OK, now that that's out of the way, what a great puzzle, just loaded with marquee answers of real distinction. And they really let loose the "?" clues today (8!), but in a way that somehow managed to feel non-obnoxious. They were mostly simple and cute and right on the money, starting with the winner at 1A: One with an "accept all cookies" policy? (SANTA). Iconically, that's Cookie Monster, or me, but neither of those fit, so I had to work a little to get SANTA, and getting it made me smile. Make me work a little, make me smile. I'm not looking for anything more than this on a Friday. The grid was delightfully uninundated with names. This cleared the way for the marquee name, so it could really shine—loved the way OLIVIA RODRIGO dropped down the damn center of this puzzle like a dagger, like tada! All other names step aside, the headliner's here. I wish the clue for her had been less boring (13D: Youngest artist to debut at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100)—something more personal, or more specifically tied to her songs / albums, but I enjoyed seeing her nonetheless, cutting through 8 (8!) answers of 8 (8!) or more letters. She's really holding it all together. I'm a fan (of her in this puzzle, of her irl). I also love that she took The Breeders with her on tour. Such a bold choice. "Kim Deal [of The Breeders] said it was odd at first, but after learning Rodrigo knew St. Vincent and is a fan of Billy Joel and Sheryl Crow, she said "[Rodrigo]'s just really into music. Knowing that, it made more sense. She just really liked us!"" (wikipedia). The kid's got good taste.
Thirteen answers of 8 or more letters and not a clunker in the bunch. Love the unusual juxtaposition, like KIDS TABLE and BEER HALL ("You kids stay there, the grown-ups are ... going out for a while"). Or the politeness of "NO, I INSIST" alongside the rude impatience of TOOT-TOOT. I love the shade of "former" in 20A: Google's former motto ("DON'T BE EVIL"). I mean, there's no other way to clue that, but still, it's a reminder that their putative values have, uh, changed (evil is, as you maybe know by now, quite profitable). I also loved how the answer to 52A: Field of stars? was ASTROLOGY and not ASTRONOMY (which wouldn't fit). "In astrology, stars are seen as celestial powerhouses, radiating their energy and influencing our lives in profound ways." The clue felt like it was trolling astronomers and other science types, and that's fine by me. I liked the BLIND DATES with MERE MORTALs and the OLD NORSE guy who SLEPT LATE and I even liked LOLING, as it is an abbreviation I've actually used and it crosses NARS, which deserves to be LOL'd at.
Initial mistakes were few and unserious. RACY before SEXY (18D: Like many Halloween costumes), OPEN before SPIT (18A: Dentist's directive), BATS before ANTS (7D: Creatures that sleep by taking hundreds of minute-long naps throughout the day). Other than that, the only significant resistance in this thing came from the SW corner, where I found BETRAY very hard to get ahold of (40D: Reveal unintentionally). I wanted BLURT or BLURT OUT or BLAB or some other blithering "B" word. Also had some trouble parsing EASY A'S from the back end, especially given that "?" clue (57A: Understudy opportunities?). I was like, "... 'YAS! YAS!'? Is that something people ... exclaim? ... I don't get it." But no, it's EASY A'S, and the clue is actually great (after all, EASY A'S are classes where you can understudy (i.e. not study much at all) and still do well).
Notes:
15A: Macronutrient grouping? (AEIOU) — we just had a whole supervocalic lesson here on the blog a few days ago, and bang, here we are again, with a word that contains each of the five vowels (AEIOU) only once. That's what a "supervocalic" is. Slightly weird to call them a "grouping," since the vowels are dispersed throughout the word (and don't appear in order). But I think the "?" on the clue takes care of any imprecision in the clue phrasing. It's a nice misdirective clue, actually.
30D: ___ Annie, role for which Ali Stroker was the first wheelchair user to win a Tony (ADO) — not being a musical aficionado, I know about ADO Annie solely from crosswords. She is a character in Oklahoma! and not, as you might expect, Annie Get Your Gun. I'm not sure ADO Annie even owns a gun. I mean, it's Oklahoma Territory in '06, she probably does. But nobody was yelling at her to go get it, is my point.
10D: Daisylike bloom (ASTER) — nice, unforced "Daisy" callback. The ASTERs are particularly lovely around here in autumn. Though you wouldn't know that today, as (for the first time this season) the ground is blanketed in snow.
Relative difficulty: Medium (except that SE corner, yipes)
THEME: "MONSTER MASH" (34A: Halloween-themed hit, with a hint to four squares in this puzzle) — four monsters (a DEMON, a TROLL, an OGRE, and a GOLEM) are each "mashed" into a single square ... it's a monster rebus! Boo!
Theme answers:
PRIDE MONTH / DESDEMONA (20A: June observance / 4D: "Othello" role)
CRESCENT ROLL / TEA TROLLEY (22A: Pastry whose dough is used in making pigs in a blanket / 13D: Source of refreshments on a train to London)
PROGRESS BAR / MICROGREENS (48A: Graphic showing the status of a download, say / 34D: Certain edible seedlings)
MANGO LEMONADE / MONGOL EMPIRE (45A: Summer drink made from the fruits of two tropical trees / 35D: Khan tract?)
Word of the Day: DIP powder nails (40A: ___ powder (manicure type)) —
Dip powder nails is a technique in which you or a nail technician dusts or brushes a pigmented powder over your nails to create an opaque layer of color. It got its name because when you’re DIYing it at home, you can literally “dip” your nail into the jar of powder (more on the specifics below). Dip powder nails typically require a few coats of powder for opacity before you paint a liquid sealant painted on top to harden the powder. Finally, they're sealed with a top coat for shine. The result? A manicure that can last around three weeks without chipping or lifting. (cosmopolitan dot com)
• • •
[Apollo & DAPHNE]
Wow, yes. This puzzle. This is how you do a holiday puzzle. First of all, it's appearing on the actual holiday that it's celebrating—not one, or three, or however many days earlier, as sometimes happens—so that's nice. And luckily for me (and hopefully you) that day is Thursday, which means it's party time. It's pull-out-all-the-stops time, burn-this-mother-down time. Actually, it's a fairly simple concept. It's just a rebus puzzle, with monsters in the rebus squares. But what elevates this puzzle is ... well, lots of things. First of all, the perfect revealer. Has that song title ("MONSTER MASH") really been sitting around for well over half a century and no one (til now) had thought to use it as a revealer in a crossword puzzle? I gotta believe it's been attempted, somewhere, at some time, but not to my memory, not in the NYTXW, anyway. The song has been in the puzzle, of course—seven other times—but no one (apparently) had thought to build a theme around it, despite the fact that it seems to be crying out for rebus revealer status.
But it isn't just that the revealer is perfect, it's that the puzzle unfolded in such an entertaining way, because the revealer only revealed so much. Sometimes, once you get a revealer, the puzzle becomes much easier to solve; I've often filled in all thematic material immediately upon getting the revealer or grokking the basic theme gimmick. But today ... well, first, I got the rebus pretty quickly; if you've ever seen, or read, or especially taught Othello (as I have), then it's possible that you noticed, or had it pointed out to you, that with Othello & Desdemona, "HELL" appears in his name and "DEMON" appears in hers. So I got DES(DEMON)A easy and thought "ooh, demons, cool," figuring I'd be seeing a bunch of demons today. But then the TROLL jumped out at me in the NE and I thought "OK, dang, we're gonna get all kinds of monsters ... cooler." And then I got the revealer and thought "damn ... damn that's just stupidly perfect." But even knowing the basic concept, I Still Had To Hunt Two More Monsters, and let me tell you, that last monster put up a fight. This is perhaps because the monster in question, the GOLEM, is ... not a Halloween monster? It's a figure from Jewish folklore, and since many Jews do not celebrate Halloween for religious or cultural reasons, GOLEM seems an unlikely guest at this party. But technically, a GOLEM is a kind of "monster," and all the revealer promises is that monsters will be mashed, not that all said monsters will be iconically associated with Halloween. And since the GOLEM did inspire Frankenstein's monster (which is very iconically Halloweeny!), judges say ... fair. Tough (as hell), but fair.
[It's time ... the official start of Christmas music season; sorry, I don't make the rules, it's Christmas season now]
I was so mad at CRESCENT—I practically shouted "they're called CRESCENT rolls!"—that when the TROLL finally popped out of his hiding place, I felt like the puzzle was listening to me. It played a little joke on me. Got me mad about a problem that didn't actually exist and then shouted "gotcha!" Good one, puzzle. OGRE was weirdly easy to get. I think I had the MICR- part of MICR(OGRE)ENS and just started testing "O" monsters ... not many of those! OGRE was the first thing I thought of, and bam, in went the greens. It's the dang GOLEM that took forever. Why? Sigh, well, I had the MANGO- part of the two-part fruit drink thingie, but I'd written in MANGO, leaving me with MONG- for the opening of 35D: Khan tract? (that's "Khan" as in "Genghis" and "tract" as in "piece of land"). It's really *that* clue that kept GOLEM hidden for a while, because even after I'd worked out the back end of the answer (-IRE), I kept trying to make MONGOLIANEMPIRE work. Oh, and that clue on PROPER didn't help, yeesh. Without the word "noun" anywhere in the clue, it never ever occurred to me that you would refer to a word as PROPER. PROPER modifies "noun," or maybe "name," but without that cue, I kept looking for some specific property of Polish (the language), and getting nowhere. "I know there's a monster in here somewhere, dammit! What the hell kind of monster is an "olianemp"?! Eventually I tried MONGOL (rather than MONGOLIAN) EMPIRE, and boom, there it was. So MAN(GO LEM)ONADE crossing MON(GOL EM)PIRE was a PROPER train wreck. I was lucky enough to know YEET and DAPHNE and WHAM!, and I was done. Well and truly—and happily—done. Puzzle solved, monsters defeated. Good time had.
[BeBe's sister, in a gospel duo]
Notes and Explanations:
17A: "Duh!," in textspeak ("OBVS!") — this puzzle is ostentatiously slangy, with OBVS and YEET (60A: Throw hard, in modern slang) and TRASH (as clued) (10D: Just terrible, in slang). I'm guessing YEET was the most troublesome of the three for many. I am not a native YEET sayer, but I've seen it enough by now to not be surprised by it. This is the third YEET of the year, fifth all time (it debuted just last year).
24A: Common situations in time travel narratives (PARADOXES) — had the PARA- part and (since I already knew it was a monster rebus) wanted PARALLEL UNIVERSES but good luck finding the monster that will make that answer work. (I dare you to go to your next Halloween party as a Lleluniv!)
28A: Its cups aren't supposed to runneth over (BRA) — this made me laugh.
36A: What the puck is going on? (RINK) — another perfect clue. At first I thought "shouldn't this be where the puck is...?'" But no, the RINK (surface) is what the puck is going (sliding) on.
30A: Last word in the full title of Cervantes's most famous novel (MANCHA) — familiar to fans of the musical ...
33A: Pigeonry (COTE) — I love the word "pigeonry." Sounds like the shenanigans that pigeons get up to. You know? Flying. Cooing. Pooping on statues. Your basic pigeonry.
48A: Graphic showing the status of a download, say (PROGRESS BAR) — had PROGRESS MAP here, for some reason. A MAP is also a "graphic" so it made sense to me in the moment, even if BAR is infinitely better in retrospect.
56A: Opposite of a jumbo shake? (TREMOR) — the puzzle is having fun. Not content to baffle you with hiding monsters, it also throws a lot of wacky clue curveballs at you. I appreciated the spirit of the whole thing. We even get bonus spooky content, just to Halloween things up a bit more: a haunted corn maze (dead END!); horror film star NEVE Campbell (of Scream fame); ominous FOGHORNS ... it sets a mood, this puzzle. Zany-spooky. I'm feeling it.
21D: Institution with A.T.M.s known as "Green Machines" (TD BANK) — no idea. Wait, I think my stepbrother works for them. I know he works for some bank, and commutes to Toronto several times a month. Hmmm. We don't have these banks near me. Not anywhere I have lived. Looks like the parent company is in fact Canadian. I only know the name because ... probably because of ads, or the naming rights on some stadium or something. Oh, and because they were recently in the news, not for good reasons (when are banks in the news for good reasons?): "On October 10, 2024, in a historic settlement with U.S. authorities, TD pleaded guilty and agreed to pay $3 billion in combined penalties for money laundering conspiracy over a decade, including failure to monitor trillions in potentially suspicious transactions annually, necessitating a four-year independent monitorship and comprehensive AML reforms." (wikipedia)
31D: Dating app for queer women (HER) — no idea. Luckily, not hard to infer.
49D: 2016 election nickname (BERN) — as in Bernie Sanders. I forgot about all that "Feel the BERN" stuff. Seems fitting that the only "nickname" I can remember from that (TRASH) election is "JEB!" Which isn't even a nickname. Just a sad, failed slogan. The least efficacious exclamation point in electoral history. Please clap.
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!")