Wordsmith
David Astle sets the Friday cryptic crossword puzzle in the Fairfax papers. His essay in Meanjin, “One Man, One Box and 26 Letters”, is about the puzzles, of course, their construction and solution, but it’s also about their history and the wonderful people who create them.
“Okay then…” [Max, the relief teacher,] scanned the day’s paper, the very rag he’d been planning to read in the staffroom. “Make me a crossword.”
Well, I did. Max seemed amazed. His task had been the perfect sponge to soak up forty minutes, allowing him to resume his reading. But a few ticks before the bell some kid submits a 15-by-15 grid, with symmetry, with clues, with a few inside jokes and a twist of anagram. Bugger. Now he’d have to make copies.
Those fifteen squares of fame—a purple Roneo circulating the school—were stronger and more addictive than ecstasy tabs. From memory, Max neglected to run the solution on the same sheet of paper, meaning this black duck had to field enquiries from all levels of the academy.
“Hey Astle, what the fuck is PERFIDY?”
“How d’ya spell OCCURRED?”
I felt like a king. If this was the puzzle life, I wanted more.
The essay is wonderfully playful, pulling apart words and rebuilding them, stretching them and squeezing them and extracting every last drop of meaning. Astle takes you through his thought processes, the delicate balance of creating a challenge that can certainly be beaten (in the words of an English setter, “the art of losing gracefully”).
An edited version ran in the A2 liftout of The Age on Boxing Day, but it’s missing some of the best parts — the history of crossword puzzles; Astle’s trepidation en route to meeting his mentor, the late LB; and a sample crossword to get you hooked. It’s one of the best essays I’ve read this year. Do yourself a favour and find a copy.