To finish or not to finish – and are solvers artsy types or code-wranglers? Alan Connor looks at your experiences of solving cryptic puzzles
After looking at some new research into "fluid intelligence" and cryptics, we had a convivial and stimulating discussion about solvers' backgrounds and the experience of solving and learning to do so.
So what have we learned? The research, by Kathryn Friedlander and Philip Fine, suggested that among regular cryptic solvers there are many with experience in numbery, science-ish fields. And among you, the unrigorously selected sample, there are more solvers identifying themselves with physics/IT/engineering/etc than is suggested by the tweedy, ode-citing, classics professor of crosswording legend.
That certainly makes sense: you can think of crosswords as an exercise in language, meaning and poetry – but you can also see cryptic clues as miniature programs, parsimonious pieces of code that can be parsed to find the unique solution. And that apparent distinction may or may not correspond to the different types of solving some of you describe – that is, whether you suggest to yourself an answer based on the definition and then use the wordplay to confirm, or whether the wordplay does the initial spadework.
I suspect, though, that the super-solvers in the research by Fine and Friedlander operate on a level above, where checking letters, definition and wordplay all perform a crypto-semiotic ballet in the time it takes the pencil to move across the grid. An important caveat from JollySwagman:
I'm not sure that all solvers solve in the same way – or even that any individual solves in the same way all the time.
Indeed. And we should remember that solving is the result of both a propensity and having a routine that enables you to peer at a grid – on which subject, a provocative theory suggested by OnSecondThoughts…
Maybe IT, law and banking are simply professions with lots of empty mind-space to use. The liberal arts crowd keep their creative minds busy with more useful tasks.
… which has an undoubted appeal, though I would add that (a) we need to remember the immense enthusiasm among actors for crosswords in their waiting-around time and (b) whatever could be a more useful task than solving a crossword?
Another impression given by our discussion is that polymaths (hello, thegirlfrommarz and gyford, inter alia) may have a distinct advantage since crosswords take all of human knowledge as their subject.
And another oft-assumed characteristic of the solver took a knock. In legend and in literature, the crossworder is a lone soldier, fighting one-on-one with the setter. In reality, though, the puzzle is as likely to be a group activity, in theworkplace, withparents or asacouple. As thegirlfrommarz says, co-solving is certainly preferable if you're a newcomer: you get over the initial bumps of cryptics more quickly if, rather than staring blankly at the baffling little sentences after each clue number, you approach a puzzle …
with an experienced solver who understands that eg "flower" often means "river", and that "doctor" can be MD, DR or even DD (thanks for that, Paul … ).
Beginners may be prone to worrying about what constitutes fair play: SpecialRX wonders …
I'm probably officially "cheating" because I have to use the txt-msg t9 thing on my phone to check my spelling.
… and a co-solving friend would be well advised to reassure the novice that in crosswords, there's no such thing as cheating, unless you decide that there is. And even if you do, you're likely to employ a sliding scale of misdemeanours, the sliding happening as you get more confidence: williamsbach gives an example of how the rules change according to the type of puzzle. (It need hardly be added that filling the squares with dingbats does not constitute solving.)
Two final thoughts: gyford reminds us that you don't have to finish every clue in a puzzle to derive pleasure from it – as Guardian crossword editor Hugh Stephenson points out in his book Secrets of the Setters, this is what makes cryptics more satisfying than, say, sudokus– each clue can be seen as a dinky puzzle in itself. And many of you recorded admirably lengthy solving times, from hours to days to weeks; sailplan even gave an excursive analogy:
When we walk in the Lake District, we are regularly overtaken by fell runners who run to the top of three peaks before breakfast – and good luck to them. But they don't stop and smell the wild herbs; they don't ease their boots off and cool their feet in a tarn; and they don't reward themselves with a cup of laced coffee from the Thermos enjoying the silence and the spectacle.
Agreed. And thank you to everyone. We must do this again some time.