Dysart, sadly his last puzzle here, as he died last July.
Preamble: The unclued entry is the title of a work (minus its definite article). 12 clues contain a misprint in the definition; correct letters give the name of its author. Six answers are shorter than their allotted space, and will leave empty cells.
The puzzle enacts the last stages of the work. Solvers must erase eight letters to symbolise the passing of an age, leaving real words. Gaps in one row must be filled by a character in the work, making real crossing words, including two proper nouns. They must then alter five letters in the last row to show two identical three-letter words that signal a final act of destruction (also making real down words). Enumerations refer to the space available in the grid.
NB: sources give variant spellings of characters’ names.
On the first time through I managed only two answers in the top half but quite a lot more down below; and it looked like the empty cells could well be contiguous in row nine. Once I’d slotted in FETISH at 26d the bottom row spelt _H_RR____H_R_ and, thinking of plays, I took a stab at CHERRY ORCHARD, with some confirmation that the corrections to misprints, …ON…H…V…, might be heading for ANTON CHEKHOV. I took a break.
Returning with renewed vigour, I tackled the top half; the right quadrant came quite quickly but the top left seemed to take ages. With the grid complete, I thought I would leave the endgame until the following day but read the character list and a summary of the plot of The Cherry Orchard before turning in.
AXE & AXE weren’t too difficult to place in the last row thereby destroying the ORCHARD, and despite the female lead in the play being commonly given as RANEVSKAYA the top row looked promising for a deletion. I looked for character lists on the web and found RANEVSKY given by SparkNotes for example, so that’s what we need to erase. The gaps in row nine proved more problematic – none of the other characters fitted the bill, but FIRS was a near miss: the F would fit nicely into DE·RAY, the I would be a natural end to ABAC·, the R one of two letters to complete HU·TS, and S to precede ·ETH would yield one of the two proper nouns, all of which would leave just TIRE· to sort out. Back to the character lists on the web and there’s FIERS on Shmoop among others, so TIREE is the other proper noun.
Only later, while thinking about the blog, did I realise how appropriate that we find FIERS, the senile manservant, alone in a R·····OOM, when the others have left and abandoned the estate.
I for one will miss Andy Stewart’s puzzles. I’m sure others will too.
Lovely sendoff puzzle and I for one was only vaguely familiar with The Cherry Orchard, so enjoyed the educational moment.
Once a couple of the missing letters looked like they would be next to each other, I figured that we might be headed for a single word but it still took me a long time to get to R-OOM for 36a. The endgame, including the AXEs, went more quickly although I too spent some time looking for an alternative spelling to FIRS, and I was very surprised to find that IMPOSEX was indeed a valid word.
For a moment I thought we could maybe replace RANEVSKY with LOPAKHIN, which would fit space wise and would have been even more fitting, but I guess that was one step too far in the grid construction.
RIP Dysart.
This brought back memories of Russian A Level, not all of them wonderful. I only dimly remembered the plot and was a bit befuddled by RANEVSKY since, as far as I’m aware, the late Mr R is not really a character in the play. I stand to be corrected of course as the more time I spent reading the Wiki page, the more I felt like I had overdue homework
Enjoyed. Lots of thanks to Dysart (posthumously, alas) and HolyGhost. Grid fill here was very much as described in the blog, including casting around for alternative spellings of Ranevskaya and Firs. The only thing I really remembered about The Cherry Orchard was the fuss about its being cut down: thanks to that and the suggestive title, it came to mind as a wild guess when I had only two letters in the bottom row. I’m rarely that lucky!
It might have been imperceptibly neater to have the ORCHARD obliterated by two AXEs with a space between them, leaving the real word SET rather than the proper name SETH; but I suppose that would have overcomplicated the instructions. An idle thought rather than a criticism.
I followed the same track as Arnold@1, including the surprise (and pleasure) at discovering the existence of IMPOSEX. Like him I was expecting one of the more obviously disruptive characters to take centre stage at the end – Yasha for example – but HolyGhost has convinced me that Firs in an empty room is a perfectly appropriate final image. A fine puzzle by which to remember Dysart.
My progress was slowed by the conviction, once I realised 36a was four letters, that it had to be ‘hook’ – surely an opportunity to fasten, and a port. Frustrating endgame for me, as I knew the character in the room at the end had to be Firs, but didn’t feel motivated to seek alternative transliterations; and wasn’t sure at the bottom whether we should be looking for axes or taps or some other logging sound. But a wonderful, mournful subject to go out on, and thanks to HG for clearing up a few mysteries.
I had no luck with this. I made two errors in the SE quadrant, and it took me too much time to solve the clues, some of which I didn’t understand. I should have got Anton Chekhov from the letters I had, but that name did not come to me. It was altogether not the same experience as the other four Dysart puzzles I have solved in this series, all of which I enjoyed, but it’s clear to me now how well executed the theme of this puzzle was.
Thanks to HG for the blog, and for explaining the bits that I missed.
Another Russian A level memory here, but I DNF because I just couldn’t see where the two AXEs had to go.