Richard Buckner, Margaret Laetitia, Lady Western, née Bushby
An heiress loves a poor but proud young surgeon.
Margaret Agnes Paul, née Colvile (1829–1905) wrote a dozen novels between 1856 and 1886, of which this was the fifth. Just one volume, like many of her works, this has a good plot drawn from ordinary life, and a few vivid characters.
“A very pleasant evening’s reading—clever, sensible, brief, lively, and refined. . . . It is sometimes a relief to read a novel which is good enough to admire, and not powerful enough for even a pretence to immortality.” Spectator, November 9, 1861
“interesting and original . . . related in a sharp, concise manner, which renders it very pleasant reading.” Athenaeum, November 9, 1861
If this puzzle doesn’t make you groan, you have simply lost the ability to groan. I ought to be sorry about it, but I’m not. Well, I’m a little sorry to have had to use an old ad slogan for 21-Across. But that’s all. Otherwise, I’m proud of my work! I glory in it! I represent the avant-avant-garde of paronomasia. As Schoenberg was to Schubert, as Rothko was to Rembrandt, so am I to any old-fashioned punster who cares about such stodgy matters as actual homophonic similarity.
A young novelist lives with her clerical brother, while her friend grows to love a man with a dubious past and a secret problem.
Mary Cholmondeley (1859-1925) wrote ten novels between 1887 and 1913; according to some reviewers, this one outsold all the other novels of 1899. Its self-satisfied clergyman is a unique creation, not to be missed.
The plot is “ingenious, original, and abounding in strong dramatic situations”; Cholmondeley “understands the art of making her characters not merely thrill us at crises, but interest us in the normal intervening spaces of their lives”; despite some blemishes, “criticism is disarmed by the freshness, the strength, and the pathos of this brilliant and exhilarating novel, by far the most exciting and original of the present season.” Spectator, October 28, 1899
“A clever, well-told story. The emotional feeling is not of a common sort, and the outlook on modern life and manners is touched with vivacity, with something of subtlety even.” Cholmondeley provides “close and, at times, humorous observation of character . . . produced with a light touch and an admirable absence of the descriptive manner.” “Never aggressively witty nor epigrammatic, she yet often says a good thing in a way that makes one wonder why it has not been said before, or not in the same fresh or whimsical fashion.” Athenaeum, November 11, 1899
The “central incident” is “improbable,” “but the insight into character, the vivid interpretation of a woman’s mind, and the happy gift of satire displayed by Miss Cholmondeley raise her book at once to a very high level. She has a marvelous knack of portraying an unconscious fool, male or female, and one or two of her characters will live in her readers’ memories. She has an admirable sense of style, and she knows the world of which she writes.” Saturday Review, November 11, 1899
If I were sure this picture would always accompany this puzzle, I wouldn’t have bothered with any other clue for 73 Across. “Trees, clouds, cows, hill—why,” says the informed viewer, “this can only be the view at ____!”
A servant girl hopes to exonerate her brother from suspicion of murder.
Catherine Crowe (1790-1872) wrote a dozen works of fiction between 1841-1859, of which this is the first. She specialized, as the Athenaeum later put it, in “marvellously dovetailed stories of incident, vicissitude, coincidence, exposure, and disentanglement” (March 13, 1852).
“Crowded scenes and bustling actors, and a rapid succession of incidents,—whose movement is not restrained by any calculations on the part of the author as to their probability—keep up that sort of easy excitement which the confirmed novel-reader so much loves. There is a dashing disregard of the old consecrated unities, highly favourable to the author’s go-ahead-ism, as the Americans call it:—and in their place, he has set up a quasi unity of his own.” Athenaeum, January 30, 1841
“It is marked by a quiet kind of talent, singularly free from literary affectation, and indeed all traces of the profession of letters; but the most striking feature of the book is the extraordinary number of characters introduced, with chains of complicated and related incidents, all relative to each other, and all tending, as ultimately appears, to one point.” Chambers’s Edinburgh Journal, May 8, 1841
“We hardly know what to say of this book. It perplexes us extremely. It is powerful, beyond all question; but unsatisfactory. The writer is entitled to one admission, as early as we can make it. When we had read the first twenty pages, the book was not again laid down. . . . It includes a large amount of nicety and truth of observation, as well as much skill and art.” Examiner, February 28, 1841
“Mrs. Crowe possesses the rare faculty of telling a story so naturally that it is positively difficult for the reader to convince himself that is is not true. . . . Susan Hopley is an extraordinary specimen of her genius in this respect. From the beginning to the end the reader is impressed with the notion that it is not a fiction. . . . There is the simplicity of a person telling truly what she has seen and heard. . . . Hence it was that Susan Hopley has been more widely read by the public, although not so bepraised by the reviewers, than any novel of our time, with the single exception of the works of Dickens.” Critic, November 1, 1850
A quiet, successful lawyer marries a beautiful woman with expensive tastes and dubious loyalties.
Lady Harriet Anne Scott (1819-1894), née Shank, wrote nine novels between 1838 and 1862.This one, despite its silly title, is a keen, nuanced portrait of an unhappy marriage.
It is “lightly and easily told” and “replete with social meanings.” New Monthly Magazine, February, 1848
“One of the best novels we have perused for a long while. . . . The vivid history” of the novel’s “social sphere” is “drawn with a force and truthfulness which bespeaks a mind of no common order.” “There is a deep knowledge of human character in it, and an admirable tracing of momentous consqeunces to apparently trifling causes. . . . Nothing can be more individual and distinct than the characters.” Literary Gazette, March 18, 1848
“The interest of the story is larger than the title (not a good one) would intimate; and certainly it is in no small degree life-like and natural.” Morning Post, March 31, 1848
Richard Parkes Bonington, The Pont des Arts, Paris ca. 1826
This puzzle is amusing only if you know the French phrases on which it’s based. If you think you don’t, consult this helpful list ofSix French Phrases Every Crossword-Solver Should Knowbefore you start. Memorize these phrases and use them habitually in conversation, impressing your friends with your cosmopolitanism. Then, after some months have passed, and their use has become second nature to you, attempt the crossword below. You’ll find it’s well worth the time and effort.
A virtuous young lady endures various improbable accidents and misunderstandings.
Alice Price (1840-1891) wrote seven novels between 1883 and 1892, of which this is the first. Its plot is full of exciting surprises; its characters are well delineated.
“Few recent novels can boast of so excellent a plot, of such remarkably well-drawn characters, and of the variety of incidents that is to be found in Who is Sylvia?.” Morning Post, February 1, 1883
“This novel may be read with genuine pleasure; it is agreeably written, and the interest is sustained to the close.” Academy, February 3, 1883
“The story is not overcharged with incident, but it has more than enough to relieve it from monotony, and the execution is much above the average. There are indications of quiet power in this novel which give ample promise for the future work of its author, and it is in itself an achievement with which its readers are more than likely to be content.” Athenaeum, February 3, 1883
There are few areas of popular culture I know less about than superhero comic strips and the movies based on them. In this I must be unusual, for they seem to come up frequently in crosswords, especially those in the New York Times. “Thor” is not just a Norse god but, apparently, a superhero. “Atom” is a diminutive superhero, “green” is superhero “ ___ Lantern”; “iron” is superhero “___ man.” Anyway, this puzzle is my little act of protest. It’s filled with superheroes of my own making, the sort of superheroes I’d like to read about. 22 Across, in particular, is the sort of superhero we need right now.
A brother and sister, staying at a seaside town with their uncle the archdeacon, are involved in various romantic conflicts.
Sir Henry Stewart Cunningham (1832-1920), a prominent barrister and judge, found time to write six novels between 1860 and 1894. Here, maybe he ran out of time, for, after three hundred pages of excellent social comedy, he concludes abruptly with a hundred more of badly plotted melodrama. The beginning and middle, however, are good enough to make up for the end.
“A capital story. Fresh, sparkling, and cheerful as a summer’s morning”; it provides “a very faithful daguerrotype of the life in an English sea-side town.” Christian Examiner, November, 1860
“This is a natural work. It will please all readers, whose tastes and human feelings have not been utterly obliterated by the blood-and-thunder ‘sensation’ romances of the time.” It “has the atmosphere of truth and the vigor of sincerity, and is executed with uncommon freedom, delicacy, and skill.” Knickerbocker, (quoting the New York Saturday Press), November, 1860
“The dialogue is unusually brilliant, natural, and easy. The fun is quiet, subtle, and continuous; and the illustrations of hidden thoughts and the shading off of finer traits of character are at once ingenious and truthful. But above all, it has throughout the unmistakable impress of a refined and delicate taste. The people in it who are represented as talking in drawing-rooms talk as if they really were in drawing-rooms, and not in the gilded saloons that haunt the fancy of Bohemia. The ladies are ladies, and the gentlemen are about as wise and foolish, as well-behaved and as ill-behaved, as gentlemen usually are.” Saturday Review, March 1, 1862
Easter—rebirth—fertility—rabbits—eggs—it’s spring! As an antidote, I’ve provided a crossword featuring barrenness, burglary, drunkenness, sorcery, disfigurement, and job loss. You’re welcome.
A young woman is perplexed by a man who seems and does not seem to court her, and by a half-sister who may be very good or very bad.
Lady Georgiana Fullerton (1812-1885), daughter of an earl and convert to Catholicism, wrote roughly a dozen novels between 1844 and 1883. Though the plot here is not always plausible, it enables her to place fully realized, sympathetic characters in interesting dilemmas.
“The skill with which the plot . . . is constructed, the exquisite truth of delineation which the characters exhibit, and the intensity of passion which warms and dignifies the subject, are alike admirable. . . . The depth of passion which surrounds the story of Ginevra is the result of unquestioned genius.” Times, August 24, 1847
“If sentimentalism is sometimes carried to a rather extravagant height, and tenderness and pathos are occasionally over-wrought, still it is impossible to deny to the work, striking and passionate scenes, exquisite and truthful delineations of English society and character, vigour and grace of language, and high intellectual power.” Ainsworth’s Magazine, July 1847
Fullerton “takes a high place among writers of modern fiction. We have not for many a day read so charming a story. . . . Though there is nothing violent in the nature of the interest, and weakness, not wickedness, induces the suffering, the suffering is deep enough for profoundest sympathy, and the feelings are moved and agitated to the last. And neighbouring the pathos...we have occasional archness, simplicity, and quiet humour, the effect of which is most graceful and lovely.” Examiner, July 3, 1847
As every child knows, there were nine Muses: Calliope, Clio, Euterpe, Erato, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia, and Urania. Erato is a crossword favorite, on account of her attractive vowels. However, Wikipedia informs us that there were originally only three Muses, representing Practice, Memory, and Song—and I have constructed this crossword with the purpose of giving some long-overdue attention to this neglected trio, especially its second member, featured in 54 Down, which is where I began work. I really wanted to fit in the other two—Melete and Aoide—but my theme got in the way.
An aristocratic young lady, resisting her bullying mother’s plans, involves herself with a handsome but dubiously genteel army officer.
Lucy Bethia Walford (1845-1915) wrote over 40 novels between 1874 and 1914. This one cleverly represents hopeless mutual incomprehension between characters of different social backgrounds.
“It is a society novel of an excellent type: abounding in clever delineations of human character, interesting snatches of bright conversation, and pretty descriptions of natural scenery.” Scots Observer,January 5, 1889
“There is much that is unusually clever in the story. The author’s sense of humour is genuine”; her “characters are, without exception, lifelike, even the workings of a young girl’s mind . . . are analysed with striking fidelity.” Morning Post, January 23, 1889
“A very interesting and carefully executed piece of work. . . . As usual, the author has wisely declined to encumber herself with a complicated plot; and though there is . . . quite enough story to keep the interest from flagging . . . the book is mainly attractive in virtue of its bright, lifelike conception and its capable and artistic delineation of character.” “Subtlety of handling which results in simplicity of effect is always a fine art, and the portrait of Major Gilbert seems to us very fine art indeed.” Spectator, April 29, 1889
William Shayer and Edward Charles Williams, The Old Roadside Inn
The above Victorian painting alludes to the Victorian worker of 36 Down. The puzzle itself may seem uncharacteristically up-to-date, but don’t worry: the grasp of social media I display here is every bit as crude as the grasp of computer networking I displayed in last week’s puzzle.
A Connecticut governess is hired by a Missouri family during the Missouri-Kansas border war.
The author is anonymous; but an excerpt, republished in 1895 by Louis Klopsch, editor of The Christian Herald (in a collection called A Budget of Christmas Tales and also including, e.g., Dickens’s “A Christmas Carol”) is there attributed to “Mrs. W.H. Corning,” about whom I can find no information. Though disfigured at the end by a melodramatic dénouement, and throughout by sentimentalism (especially as regards one Aunt Phebe, a sort of female counterpart of Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom), the novel gives us a close view of 19th-century Missouri life, and, more generally, a chillingly plausible account of the way in which average, moderately selfish people may be led by habit and tribal belief into horrific cruelty and casual murder.
“Evidently by an unpracticed hand” but “written with great freshness of feeling, and a fine perception of character.” Putnam’s, November, 1856
“We beg to congratulate” the author on the novel’s “good spirit and general truth to nature—at any rate, to nature as seen from a feminine point of view in New England”; it includes some “artlessly successful . . . character-painting.” Saturday Review, February 21, 1857
“The story . . . is interesting and readable, and that goes a long way towards making a good novel. The scenes of Western border life are vivid and graphic, and have the air of being real.” Athenaeum, March 21, 1857
I apologize in advance if 16 Across seems too risqué to some solvers. Just imagine what I might have done with 27 Across, if I were not committed to the highest standards of decency.
A young woman, daughter of a once-prosperous farmer, is forced by his bankruptcy to seek work in a shop, where she is courted by the local veterinarian.
Mary E. Mann (1848-1929) wrote nearly forty novels between 1883 and 1918. Here she provides (in just one volume) memorable characters, an unusual setting, a bright style, and an engaging plot.
“Written in a brief, simple, unemphatic style, with never a note forced anywhere, this story yet produces a wonderfully strong effect. . . . Commonplace persons, with average standards of conduct and quite unideal, even vulgar instincts . . . are neither rated nor made fun of; merely observed with a wise tolerance and with a tender sympathy for the joys, and the sorrows, and the weariness they share with the more gifted tithe of humanity. This altogether uncritical yet observant attitude gives us a sense of novelty, and convinces us of the writer’s uncommon power.” Bookman, January 1899
“An excellent style, a command of natural, crisp, and vivacious dialogue, a firm grasp of character, and a dramatic imagination.” Speaker, February 25, 1899
I have never been able to habituate myself to the simulated gore, on television and in the movies, for which the whole world seems to have such an insatiable appetite. Severed limbs, gushing blood, exploding heads—I don’t see the appeal. This crossword is my little act of protest.
![John Constable, View at [73 Across]](/images/John-Constable-View-at-73-Across.jpg)
