Why do the British love cryptic crosswords?

Everyone loves an anniversary and the crossword world — if there is such a thing — has been waiting a long time for this one. December is the 100th anniversary of the publication of what is generally recognised as the first crossword — although back then it was called a ‘word cross’. It was set by Arthur Wynne and appeared in the New York World. The first solution to the first clue was ‘fun’ and it is perhaps no coincidence that Alan Connor begins his journey through the rich history of crosswords thus: ‘This is a book about having fun with words.’

It would take a stony-hearted reader to ignore such a siren’s call. But beware the rocky shores of crosswordland. All sorts of dangers await. Connor, for example, identifies the schism that exists between those who would and those who would not allow LINEAGE as a subsidiary indicator for EAGLE. For one school LINEAGE cannot be taken to mean ‘L in EAGE’ to give EAGLE. For others it can. It is merely a question of consent.

It is this relationship between setter and solver, between words and fun, which provides the narrative thrust for Two Girls, One on Each Knee (7). Connor subscribes to the general view in this country that there is something about cryptic crosswords that is uniquely British. It’s hard to prove — but hard also to disagree with. Perhaps it is to do with the idea of fairness and of consent. Afrit famously set the standard for fairness in crosswords when he wrote that a setter must say what he means though he may not necessarily mean what he says. ‘It is [the solver’s] fault if he takes it the wrong way, but it is [the setter’s] fault if he cannot logically take it the right way.’