A fun challenge (if a bit tricky in places) from Atrica, who is a fairly recent addition to the Indy with a handful of puzzles over the past year or so.
This puzzle needed a fair bit of lateral thinking, particularly for a few slightly tenuous definitions, but there were enough straightforward clues to get going.
After I’d got to the end, noticing on the way that the answers included a palindrome or two and some amusing reversals, I did a bit of research on the Fifteensquared blogs for Atrica’s previious puzzles and saw that they were all themed. So I took another look – what’s going on in this one? Well, not just a palindrome or two – actually there are six palindromic entries, and each remaining entry makes a (more or less) meaningful word or phrase when reversed. Quite an achievement, and one that amply justifies the occasional obscure word. Thanks to Atrica for the challenge.
Definitions are underlined; BOLD UPPERCASE indicates letters used in the wordplay; square brackets [ ] indicate omitted letters.
ACROSS | ||
6 | TOILE | Cloth can wipe rear end (5) |
TOILE[t] (can = slang for toilet), removing (wiping) the last letter (rear end). Toile = linen or cotton fabric, either plain or with a one-colour printed pattern. |
||
7 | TOP SPEED | Tricycle of pioneer Sinclair originally went 15mph doing this (3,5) |
First letters (originally) of T[ricycle] O[f] P[ioneer] S[inclair], then PEED (went = euphemism for urinated). Extended definition: the Sinclair C5, for those who don’t remember it, was a 1980s one-person electric vehicle with three wheels and a maximum speed of 15 miles per hour, developed by Sir Clive Sinclair. It wasn’t a success. |
||
9 | KEEL | Haddock’s last fish in bottom of boat (4) |
Last letter of [haddoc]K + EEL (a fish). | ||
10 | REBUT | Contradict doubter abandoning party in revolution (5) |
Anagram (in revolution) of [do]UBTER, abandoning (discarding) DO (slang for a party). | ||
11 | TONS | A large amount of cement on sale (4) |
Hidden answer in [cemen]T ON S[ale]. “Of” is a bit weak as an indicator for this, but “a large amount” for the definition pushes the reader in the right direction I think. Tons = slang for a large amount, especially “more than necessary”, as in “no hurry, we’ve got tons of time”. |
||
12 | STROP | ‘Is partly seen tantrum (5) |
This one took ages, because I can never remember the rule: if you see a punctuation mark in a crossword clue that doesn’t seem to make sense, try spelling it out as a word. This clue begins with an [apo]STROP[he] – “partly seen” is the hidden answer indicator. | ||
15 | REPAPER | Prepare supply and change decor (7) |
Anagram (supply = in a supple manner = moving easily) of PREPARE. Repaper = replace wallpaper. |
||
17 | EDAM | Sandwich filling occasionally wet? Dear me! (4) |
Alternate letters (occasionally) of [w]E[t] D[e]A[r] M[e]. Dutch cheese, which I suppose could be used in a sandwich. |
||
18 | MADAM | The first man on Mars? The first woman, with due respect! (5) |
ADAM (the first man), appended to (on) M[ars] (Mars the first = first letter of it). | ||
20 | TIDE | As they say: “Drawn, I’m drawn by the moon” (4) |
Homophone (as they say) of TIED (drawn) = description of a sports event where both players or teams get the same score. Except of course in the delightfully perverse game of cricket, where a tie and a draw aren’t the same thing. | ||
22 | ROTATOR | Perhaps fan hot air in both directions around article (7) |
ROT (hot air = nonsense talk) + ROT reversed (in both directions), around A (the indefinite article). | ||
24 | TENON | Endlessly intoned, rambling in wooden tongue (5) |
Anagram (rambling) of [i]NTONE[d] without its two end letters (endlessly). Tenon as in a mortise and tenon joint in woodworking: a protrusion (tongue) fitting into a hole to make the joint. |
||
25 | PINS | Secures access codes (4) |
Double definition. Pins (verb) = secures with sharpened pieces of metal; or PINs = plural of Personal Identification Number (access code). | ||
27 | SET ON | Determined about reforming soonest? Not very (3,2) |
Anagram (re-forming) of [so]ONEST, without “so” = very, as in “I’m so sorry”. | ||
30 | ETNA | Smoker‘s French and doesn’t apply (4) |
ET (French “and”) + NA (or N/A = short for “not applicable” = doesn’t apply). Smoker = something that smokes, in this case an active volcano. |
||
31 | TERAGRAM | Approximately the combined weight of Tory voters in 1983 returning Thatcher? (8) |
MARGARET (Thatcher, former UK prime minister), reversed (returning). This might be the most convoluted definition I’ve ever seen in a crossword. A teragram = 10^12 (10 to the power 12) grams = 10^9 kilograms. Which is approximately the combined weight of the (roughly) 13 million people who voted for Margaret Thatcher’s Tory government in the 1983 UK general election, if you assume an average of 70-80 kilograms. It’s not a commonly-used word except in the sort of scientific circles that deal with very large quantities, but the reversal makes it a gift for crossword setters. |
||
32 | TUBED | Cylindrical bath and foundation overlap (5) |
TUB (bath) overlapping with BED (foundation, as in bedrock). The definition seems a bit contrived – but Collins has tube (verb) = to shape like a tube, so I guess tubed = tube-shaped = cylindrical. Not a word I expect to use any time soon. |
||
DOWN | ||
1 | DIAL | Call investigator a novice (4) |
DI (Detective Inspector = police investigator) + A + L (as in L-plate = learner = novice). Dial = call (a number on a telephone). |
||
2 | LEER | Drugs grasped by both hands eliciting a sideways look (4) |
EE (E = short for ecstasy = a psychoactive drug, or a tablet containing it; EE = two of them, so “drugs”), contained in (grasped by) L and R (left and right = both hands). | ||
3 | STUB | Piece left behind when objections overturned (4) |
BUTS (objections, as in “no ifs, no buts”), reversed (overturned). | ||
4 | SPAT | Father goes after son, having tense disagreement (4) |
PA (familiar term for father) after S (son), then T (t = abbreviation for tense; I don’t know who ever uses this abbreviation, apart from crossword setters who insist that it’s valid because it’s in the dictionary). | ||
5 | TENNER | Heard singer rendering note (6) |
Homophone (heard) of TENOR (singer). Tenner = UK slang for a ten-pound currency note. |
||
6 | TRESSED | Upset when denied entry with locks (7) |
[s]TRESSED (upset), with the first letter (entry) removed (denied). Those who insist that stressed is not the same as upset may prefer to read it as [dis]TRESSED, though using “entry” for the first three letters would be a bit of a stretch. Locks = tresses = hair, so tressed = with locks = with hair. |
||
8 | PUT UP | Accommodate offer (3,2) |
Double definition. To provide temporary accommodation for (as in “I can put you up overnight”); or to offer (one might put a house up for sale, or put up a bid in an attempt to buy one). | ||
13 | REMIT | Cancel terms of reference (5) |
Double definition. Remit (verb) = to refrain from imposing (a penalty) = to cancel; or remit (noun) = the range of one’s responsibilities, as in “that’s not within my remit”. | ||
14 | POM | In Melbourne, Lord Dunglass (Sir Alec Douglas-Home?) gets a duck (3) |
PM (Prime Minister, for example Sir Alec Douglas-Home who was UK PM briefly in the 1960s), containing O (zero = duck in cricket scoring). The definition is somewhat contrived. Pom is an Australian slang term (and therefore a Melbourne one) for an English person, or less commonly for one from elsewhere in the UK. Lord Dunglass is a title that Sir Alec held (until he renounced it to become PM), so it could just about represent “a British person” – though it’s a Scottish peerage not an English one. Would any of our Australian readers care to comment on whether they’d call a Scottish aristocrat a Pom? |
||
15 | RADAR | Detector of bishop grabbing Lovelace? (5) |
RR (Right Reverend = title for a bishop), containing (grabbing) ADA (Ada Lovelace, computing pioneer). | ||
16 | PITON | Climber’s equipped with this and irrational not to ascend (5) |
PI (pi = ? = 3.14159…., an “irrational” in the sense of not being expressible as a ratio of whole numbers), then NOT reversed (ascending = upwards in a down clue). A metal spike used in rock-climbing. |
||
19 | MOT | A Parisian’s word upsetting to Monsieur (3) |
TO + M (French abbreviation for Monsieur, equivalent to Mr), all reversed (upset = upwards in a down clue). French (therefore Parisian) for “word”, appearing in some phrases that have passed into English such as “bon mot” and “le mot juste”. |
||
21 | DON’T NOD | Avoid dozing as lecturer talked vacuously about play (4,3) |
DON (university lecturer) + T[alke]D (vacuously = empty = middle letters removed), containing (about) NO (or Noh = Japanese form of theatre performance). Nod = doze = become sleepy, so don’t nod = avoid dozing. I don’t recognise this as the sort of stock phrase that would be expected as a crossword solution, but there may be some cultural reference I’ve missed. |
||
22 | REINED | Pulled back a bit but ruled soundly (6) |
Homophone (soundly) of REIGNED (ruled). Rein (verb) = to pull back a horse using the reins, or (metaphorically) to restrain. |
||
23 | TASER | Shock result as error uncovered (5) |
Hidden answer (. . . uncovered) in [resul]T AS ER[ror]. Taser, as a verb = to shock someone using a Taser electrical device. |
||
26 | SWAP | Hands over in exchange (4) |
PAWS (slang for hands), reversed (over). | ||
28 | TIME | Clock could be item as also found in Laos (4) |
ALSO is an anagram of LAOS, specifically created by reversing each of the two pairs of letters LA and OS. The same transformation applied to ITEM gives TIME. Clock (verb) = time = to record the time taken to do something (for example a lap of a running track). |
||
29 | NUTS | To greengrocer, say, Brazil’s bananas (4) |
Double definition. The first is a definition by example, “Brazils, say” (Brazil nuts), but refers to the “greengrocer’s apostrophe”, the incorrect use of an apostrophe to form a plural (supposedly common in signs hand-written by fruit and vegetable sellers): so Brazil nuts might be written as “Brazil’s” or “nut’s”. The seconds is nuts = bananas = slang for crazy. | ||
30 | ELBA | Rocky, mostly bleak place of exile (4) |
Anagram (rocky) of BLEA[k] (mostly = last letter removed). Italian island where Napoleon was sent into exile. |
Spotted the reversal theme after completion. Quite an achievement indeed.
Nice! I particularly like TERAGRAM – first time I had a laugh with Margaret Thatcher.. theme wise ELBA is also part of popular 7-word schoolboy anagram!.. adds to list!
..not anagram! PALINDROME
Very impressive. We noticed a few reversals but unfortunately didn’t look further.
Thanks Quirister and Atrica
As well as Able was I, there is a nod to Madam I’m Adam, so I wonder if there are more I haven’t recognised. Enjoyed it, and the blog.
Something rather different and a very enjoyable puzzle. As usual, did not see the subtle bits, ie the reversals. Particularly liked DON(‘)T NOD.
Australians are generally not very good at distinguishing one English regional accent from another, so all are Poms, though I think the Scottish accent is broad, or different, enough for them to escape the appellation.
Thanks to Atrica – look forward to the next one – and to Quirister.
It seems that all the answers when reversed give a valid word or name – apart that is from PITON. Is there a Mr Notip?
Dicho, I think it’s NO TIP, like what happens when you get bad service in a restaurant. They aren’t all single words.
@8
I guess No tip? Aka service compris?
Dear Q and H
Didn’t think of that. Here in Spain tips are as rare as hens’ teeth!
What a fabulous crossword.
But I wonder why Atrica didn’t go for PUT ON at 16, which would have given a slightly more familiar reversal.
There’s a recycled Punk puzzle in the i today, which I struggled with, and the excellent idothei website pointed me as always to the original Fifteensquared blog back in 2016, where I discovered that I bitched at length about it being too obscure and hard for a Monday. This was only briefly obscure, but certainly hard (for a Monday or any other day).
It’s an achievement (and kudos to the setter for that), but one that might have been appreciated more by his fellow setters than by your average punter. Needed our redoubtable blogger to explain STROP and TIME, and DON’T NOD was rather random (but clearly necessary). In his defence, I will say that T for ‘tense’ is reasonably common in language/linguistic circles for present tense, future tense, etc.
Thanks to Atrica for this one.
We spent so long over our last two in (TOILE and TRESSED) that we were just relieved to have finished and didn’t even look for a theme, even though it was staring us in the face.
We thought DON’T NOD was a bit iffy as not being ‘a well-known phrase or saying’ but suppose it has to be admitted for the purpose of the theme. Also, we missed the significance of the apostrophe so couldn’t parse STROP. But we did spot the irrational in PITON – very good! We also liked TENON with its misdirection to a disease of cattle.
Thanks, Atrica and Quirister
Quite an achievement to get reversals of every word in the puzzle, even though it was a stretch at times. PITON has already been mentioned, but it seemed to me that with TOP SPEED Atrica was also struggling: deep spot? Or did I miss something?
I’d never have got 31ac without cheating. Had never heard of a teragram, and all that stuff about Tory voters and 1983, well ..
I don’t think there was anything I didn’t parse. But it took me literally all day on and off.
Great achievement by the setter, even if as others have said, some of the answers weren’t particularly common phrases.
I spotted the theme reasonable early, but not before I’d mistakenly enetered KEYS for 25a.
My favourites today were TOILE at 6a (LOI) for the very clever and helpful surface, 7a for the &Lit and TIME at 28d which took far too long to get considering all the aids within the clue.
Thanks very much Atrica and also to Quirister for the blog.
I started late and finished on Tuesday but really loved the theme which helped in places when I was struggling. Special thanks to our blogger for verifying the approximate weight of those who voted for Thatcher in 1983. That is a stunning clue for it’s mathematical rigour – you can actually derive the answer with a back of the envelope calculation even if you guess anywhere in the ballpark of 10-30 million people at about the typical 70kg each.