Tell me if this sounds familiar.
Every once in a while, when I'm solving a puzzle, the strangest feeling comes over me of being simultaneously in the driver’s seat of my thinking as I tackle a cryptic crossword and a powerless passenger as my brain conjures a word from goodness only knows where.
Take the clue 17 Down on this Saturday’s Globe and Mail cryptic crossword:
Every once in a while, when I'm solving a puzzle, the strangest feeling comes over me of being simultaneously in the driver’s seat of my thinking as I tackle a cryptic crossword and a powerless passenger as my brain conjures a word from goodness only knows where.
Take the clue 17 Down on this Saturday’s Globe and Mail cryptic crossword:
The German lookalike pistol (9)
My husband and I deduced that the answer was some form of pistol and immediately gave up on the clue. We know nothing about guns. It was clearly one of those trivia clues we’d never get, despite knowing that “the” in German is “der”.
But as I read ahead to another clue, a strange feeling came over me: that of my brain opening the filing cabinets of my memory and leafing through for a long-buried document. Out of nowhere, a word bubbled up into my mind: DERRINGER. A pistol.
But as I read ahead to another clue, a strange feeling came over me: that of my brain opening the filing cabinets of my memory and leafing through for a long-buried document. Out of nowhere, a word bubbled up into my mind: DERRINGER. A pistol.
I was shocked that I knew it. But what was even weirder is that I hadn’t know the word for long. I only learned it two weeks ago after reading the excellent book “Today Will Be Different” by author Maria Semple. (You may recognize her as the author of “Where’d You Go, Bernadette”).
What are the odds that a mere two weeks after learning a new word, that same word would appear in the only cryptic crossword that I solve? It was uncanny.
But not unprecedented.
What are the odds that a mere two weeks after learning a new word, that same word would appear in the only cryptic crossword that I solve? It was uncanny.
But not unprecedented.
Nearly five years ago, I read the book “Cloud Atlas” by David Mitchell. It came highly recommended by a friend and before the film was released, I was eager to read the book. In one of the storylines, a young man acts as an amanuensis to an older composer—an artistic assistant. The word was foreign to me and I fell in love with its very specific meaning and its lovely prosody.
Not two weeks later, the word “amanuensis” appeared in a Fraser Simpson puzzle. My entire family was stumped by this ridiculously obscure word… all except me who was gobsmacked by the coincidence.
Not two weeks later, the word “amanuensis” appeared in a Fraser Simpson puzzle. My entire family was stumped by this ridiculously obscure word… all except me who was gobsmacked by the coincidence.
Has this ever happened to you, this eerie fluke of seeing a new linguistic acquaintance in a puzzle? And does it leave you feeling, like me, an odd mix of unsettled and exuberant?
RSS Feed
