Come Full Circle

Come Full Circle
Source: The New York Times

SUNDAY PUZZLE -- Will Shortz, in his print introduction to this grid, writes:

"Rachel Fabi, of Syracuse, N.Y., is a bioethics professor at SUNY Upstate Medical University. Adam Wagner, of Oakland, Calif., is a creative lead at Patreon, a monetization platform for content creators. The two were sitting together at the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament last year when Wyna Liu walked by and said a phrase that sounded a lot like 113-Across. Adam said to Rachel, 'Wait, that sounds like a revealer.' Rachel instantly responded, 'What if it's ...' and then suggested basically the exact theme of this puzzle. They knew immediately they'd struck gold."

This is a solve that connoisseurs will flip out over, I think: a wildly successful moonshot. Dr. Fabi and Mr. Wagner are amazing constructors on their own and share bylines with plenty of other familiar names, but this is their first collaboration.

Today's (Infinite) Theme

Solvers, first take note of this unusual grid. Its center portrays a "C" made of black squares, surrounded by as perfect a circle as you can make within the constraints of a grid; it touches three black squares on its sides (in the 5th and 17th columns), and the two span entries at 32- and 99-Across.

Both of those are theme entries, as are 23-, 25- and 111-Across, and 39-, 40- and 43-Down. All of these entries have italicized clues. There is a wonderful revealer entry at 113-Across (which inspired the whole puzzle, as mentioned above). In addition, there's a crucial but obscenely cruel little entry at 65-Down with a clue that simply consists of three black squares [■ ■ ■], and interacts with three clues surrounded by the "C." I'd call 65-Down an anti-revealer, because it is so confusing until you get it. But when you do it clicks together neatly with 113-Across and elucidates the title of the puzzle, "Come Full Circle." By the way, this little entry is a rebus, or three.

Solvers, now take a crack at actually solving the puzzle. Pretty tough cluing, am I right? Much of the fill is shorter than six letters in length, which would ordinarily make for a cakewalk, but I had to run across and down a few times before I got enough letters to deduce my first theme entry, 43-Down: [Arsenic's realm, in years past]. This solves to LATE NIGHT. 25-Across came next, and was similarly nonsensical: [Where many large cutlets are seen] solves to MEGAMALL.

One more turn, counterclockwise, and I reached 23-Across, [U.F.C. fighter], which is the entry that I'll bet made the theme click for many other solvers. This solves to SPACE INVADER, which would work perfectly if that “U.F.C.” was just a “U.F.O.,” right? Oh!

Do you, um, see what’s happening here? Take “Arsenic,” from 43-Down, and make it “Arsenio,” as in Mr. Hall. Take “cutlets” and make them “outlets,” of the retail variety.

After this revelation, the rest of the theme set is pretty solvable, including my favorite of the bunch, 32-Across. [Wild cats] solves to YOUTHFUL INDISCRETIONS, which has nothing to do with cougars, thank you very much; but to uncultivated oats that lavishly self-sow in springtime and inspired a 16th-century idiom.

113-Across, [Ensure that a task is finished ... and a hint that might help with finishing this puzzle], solves to another idiom: CLOSE THE LOOP. We all know this term in regards to tying up loose ends and really getting something done, but try to visualize the expression before attacking 65-Down or the puzzle's center. This visual aspect to the theme incorporates 64-, 69- and 73-Across, each of which has two clues, and the aforementioned 65-Down. I pieced this together pretty slowly because I, a buffoon, missed something big but basic. This is the way the clues are set up:

  • 64-Across: [Large summer delivery, in past times / N.F.L. linemen, at times]
  • 69-Across: [Lifeguard's tubeful / Baby gift bearing the alphabet, say]
  • 73-Across: [Dad, in a euphemism / Naval barrier preventing entering and leaving]

Now, imagine those slashes replaced by the elements of 65-Down, which runs down the center of the above entries. Oh, and instead of black squares, think of ■ ■ ■ as black BLOCKS, if you haven't yet (my blunder). That's the rebus!

You can read it as:

  • ICE BLOCK / BLOCKERS
  • SUNBLOCK / BLOCK SET
  • OLD BLOCK / BLOCKADE

And you can see that the big black “C” in the middle of the grid is now an “O.” Those black blocks have CLOSED THE LOOP, and we have all “Come Full Circle,” very much the wiser.

Even after going around and around this puzzle, I fear that I’m still overlooking an aspect; but there is one more thing to note for solvers who might be feeling pricked by the very thorny fill clues. Take a look for a letter “O” or a letter “C” in those clues, and you will come up with naught.

Tricky Clues

Given the above condition, many of the filler clues in this puzzle are quite tricky. (And just ponder the cogitation it took to come up with them!) There's also a lot of objectively tough stuff in this puzzle, including several debuts and rarities.

  • 86A. These [East Asian fiddles] have been in the crossword only a few times before, usually clued with a reference to the fact that they have only two strings. They're ERHUS, known for their elaborate vibrato and glissando effects.
  • 119A. [Gnawable, wearable items that might help with A.D.H.D.] solves to a portmanteau and a New York Times puzzle debut, CHEWELRY.
  • 6D. ["Meek" in "Blessed are the meek," e.g.] is killer grammar trivia for a term that Times solvers haven't seen since 1963: an ADNOUN, which is an adjective used substantively, or as a noun.
  • 9D. This was a great factoid for me, at least: [His first star turn was in the 1995 film "Devil in a Blue Dress"] is a reference to Don CHEADLE.
  • 92D. [Reply feigning guiltlessness] solves to another debut that I think is hard to deduce. It’s LI’L OL’ ME and it looks quite odd in a crossword entry.

Constructor Notes

Rachel Fabi: I absolutely loved creating this puzzle with Adam, who is a generous, thoughtful and brilliant constructor; who kindly did the heavy lifting on figuring out how to make the center of the puzzle work. I am in awe of his theme-brain; I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to work with him on a puzzle that really challenged me as a constructor. I generally prefer creating grids to writing clues—in part because grids usually have so many more interesting constraints than clues do—including rules requiring symmetry and allover interlock. With this puzzle however we broke both of those rules (though not at the same time!) while piling on the tightest cluing constraint I’ve ever faced—by far the most fun I’ve ever had writing crossword clues!

Adam Wagner: Pop quiz—what percent of words in English language do you think contain either an “O” or a “C?” I guessed ~18 percent. Turns out it’s over 60 percent! Originally that stat spooked me. I said to Rachel “Look I think writing over 130 natural-sounding non-thematic clues without being able to use ‘O’ or ‘C’ is just impossible. What if we get stuck with proper noun like CHEADLE that we have to clue without ‘actor’ or ‘movie’ or ‘Don?’ Or if we have to debut DALEK without being able to say ‘Doctor Who’ or BBC? Let’s just make this as Thursday.”

But that’s the thing about Rachel—not only is she an endlessly creative constructor (for more proof go solve her ‘6/1’ USA Today or her 2022 Times collab with our shared B.F.F. Rebecca Goldstein) she’s also best kind of collaborator: someone who pushes you to be better. She immediately replied with brilliant grid-spanning clue/answer combo at 32-Across. I was all-in from that moment on.

Both: Not only was this puzzle incredibly fun to clue—it was also blast to title. There were SO MANY good options: Circle Back; Raiders of Lost Arc; Getting Band Back Together; Nothing Here. We’d love to hear even more options comments if you have any!