I’m not the only one asking questions about Ever Decreasing
Circles.
In March last year, the series was a specialist subject on fun
TV interrogation Mastermind for contestant Dave Horan.
What’s the name of the suave hairdressing
salon owner who moves in next door to pedantic Martin Bryce and his
long-suffering wife Ann?
Paul. Too easy. Way too easy.
What traditional party game does Martin
play in his garden with the old ladies he’s invited from the retirement home
for afternoon tea?
Harder. Charades. Correct.
Which actor plays Ann and Martin’s
long-standing friend and neighbour Howard Hughes?
Again, easy. Stanley Lebor.
What dish does Martin plan to cook for
himself on the first evening that his wife Ann is in hospital for surgery on
her shoulder? He ends up buying fish and chips because he’s forgotten to soak
the kidney beans.
Detailed, but weighed down by a bloody huge clue: kidney beans.
Name a dish that includes kidney beans. Chilli con carne? Correct.
What is the abbreviated name of the Open
University campaign against government cuts that Ann is involved in? Martin
disapproves and accuses her of becoming ‘a pawn of the Kremlin’.
Now we’re fully into specialist subject territory. I didn’t get this, despite the
second tow-hook clue labouring behind the question. Nor did Dave. It’s OUSA.
Arguably, this is the most esoteric question of the lot.
What is the name of supposedly fierce dog
that a landowner uses to scare Martin, Howard and Hilda away from what they
believe is a public footpath?
Dave passed on this. So did I. No idea. Though, because it’s
Esmonde and Larbey (and mainly because it’s comedy), it’s going to be the most
unassumingly pacifist name, isn’t it? Daffodil or Cuddles or something. Yes, it
is. Blossom. Dave and I both failed this one.
Which two opposing historical groups are
represented in the mock battle at the charity fête? The event culminates in
single combat between Paul and Martin.
(What is it with this construction that dumps a clue after the
question? Third time now.) Slightly too easy. ‘Which two opposingly historical
groups?’ (crap grammar) has ‘Roundheads and Cavaliers’ written all over it. And that's
correct. The Battle of Naseby: the last episode of the third series.
After Paul announces that he needs to move
away for business reasons, possibly to the Channel Islands, what show tune does
Martin happily sing while doing the washing up?
Another sod (and Dave’s second pass): the answer is Oh, What
A Beautiful Mornin’ from Oklahoma! by the peerless Rodgers and
Hammerstein.
What is the full name of the psychiatrist
who Martin meets at Paul’s Party? Ann suggests Martin should visit him professionally.
Proper hard (and fourth iteration of that clue-after-the-question construction). Dave Wilson. (Nice, bland name: nice, bland
character. Very Esmonde and Larbey.)
On Howard and Hilda’s first night on
Neighbourhood Watch Patrol, they arrest a burglar who pretends to be a plain
clothes policeman. Of what rank?
Another toughie, though a guess within reach: Inspector.
Correct.
Some questions reassuringly easy; some quite tough. Retired
teacher David Horan chalked up a very creditable eight points.
And Mastermind wasn’t alone.
Twelve months later – this March – I was alerted to the fiendishly
difficult Listener Crossword in The Times – puzzle 4441, ‘It’s Dark Up Here’.
If you’re not familiar with The Listener Crossword, my trying
to explain it will lose you hook, line and concrete wellies. The potted version
is: it’s properly SEND HELP difficult. So let’s assume you either
know it, or can’t get anywhere near it. (I’m in the latter category, though
with Honours for Bloody Well Trying to be in the former.) Exhibit 1A is clue
1A:
A degree of acidity (to such a degree a
taste of tannin is lacking) is a symptom of thrush.
Well now: here’s how this one pans out – according to Alan
Connor, crossword maven and author of the bloody marvellous The Joy Of Quiz.
A (= A)
degree of acidity (= pH)
to such a degree (= that)
a taste of tannin is lacking (= tannin’s
first letter, so lose a ‘t’ from ‘that’ = ‘tha’)
is a symptom of thrush (definition:
aphtha, ‘the disease thrush,’ says Chambers)
A + ph + tha. Piece of cake, eh? (Me neither.)
Around the perimeter of the crossword are the names
MARTIN, ANN, PAUL, HOWARD and, in the circled lights, HILDA. The complete set.
And circling around the middle are EVER DECREASING OOOOOO and OOZLUM BIRD (look
it up), in ever decreasing circles.
The setter, ‘Colleague,’ explains his thinking behind this
wonderful puzzle here. I shan’t add anything to it, except to
say that it is a work of art.
*
* *
A little extra news: when I met Bob Larbey for lunch in
December 2010 (see Lunch With Bob Larbey), he told me
he hadn’t kept a page of anything he’d written. There were many things I
assumed no longer existed – scripts, paperwork, paraphernalia.
This turns out to have been wrong.
I’ll be writing more about this.
Unusually generous props to David Tyler and John Finnemore for alerting me to the crossword, Alan Connor for scraping my brain off the floor and spooning it back in to my gibbering skull – and to Roger Phillips and ‘Colleague’ (who prefers this styling) for their generosity in helping me assemble this post. Plus knightable mentions to Ian Greaves, Matt Larbey and Eryl Jones. Grats, amigos.
