Ranking the NYT Crossword’s “Ogre” Clues, From Worst to Best
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In my infinite conquest to expand my vocabulary, critical thinking and therein horizons, I recently purchased a subscription to the New York Times. Crossword. And as I dove headfirst into every Monday puzzle the archives had to offer, I quickly noticed a trend: Many of the same words were being used in multiple puzzles. Sure, the author of the puzzle would attempt to cover their tracks and phrase the clue in a different way than previously hinted, but my dissatisfaction came all the same.
Snake in Indiana Jones? Egyptian snake? 3 letters?
Asp.
Letters on a rush order? Posthaste? 4 letters?
ASAP.
At some point it becomes muscle memory, and that muscle memory becomes anti-fun. I don’t doubt the difficulty involved in coming up with a completely fresh crossword every week — that’s not what this is about. I’m here to complain about one word that they chose to rear it’s ugly head more frequently than others: “Ogre.”
Crossword puzzle writers must ogle at “ogre” the same way a starving lion sees an injured antelope on the plains. From a purely practical standpoint they probably lick their lips at the combination of two common vowels and the English alphabet’s 5th most frequent letter, meanwhile salivating at the thought of coercing another poor subscriber to type this ugly word for the umpteenth time. Confirmation bias be damned. I swear “ogre” showed up in every other Monday puzzle I attempted and frankly, I’m not good enough to move into the more difficult puzzles of the week with these recurrences continuously stunting my solving aptitude.
But this is where I pump the breaks on the complaint train. There is nothing I could say or do to sway these authors away from using “ogre” in puzzles. Joey Fagliano, Peter Gordon and Will Shortz have clearly, through some strange series of events, become enamored with the word I so hate. We all know the idiom, “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,” and if I can’t stop them from using this word in their work, the least I can do is beg for better clues! Therefore I’ve procured, through painstaking research, a treasure trove of information about ogres and with that aim to put out a WatchMojo-esque top five list guiding us through the NYT Crossword’s most misguided attempts to indicate their favorite 4-letter word.
Nº 5: Menacing Fairy Tale Figure
Kicking off our list at number five is “Menacing fairy tale figure,” a shockingly apt description of an ogre. Per the Encyclopedia Britannica, an ogre is a hideous giant best characterized by feeding on human beings, which certainly classifies as menacing behavior. As far as a clue goes, yeah, sure I might think through all the mythological creatures in my head, eventually settling on “ogre” only once I have the confidence “dragon” or “giant” won’t fit in the minuscule 4 letter space provided. In my opinion, that’s not a good clue. There’s no double entendre, no wordplay, nothing clever at all. Can you even name a fairy tale with an ogre? I can’t. 1/5.
Nº 4: Fairy Tale Villain
Clocking in at number four, we have our first evidence that the NYT Crossword is a frequent visitor of thesaurus dot com. My reservations with the quality of the previous clue can be said verbatim here. Villain?
“In what fairy tale?” I asked myself. The research was disappointing.
“Ogres have appeared in many works, including Hansel and Gretel, where the witch is a type of ogre because she intends to eat the children; and Little Red Riding Hood, where the wolf resembles an ogre”
Really? If you were to press the rusty end of a .22 caliber against the small of my neck and ask me to describe the antagonist of Little Red Riding hood without using the word “wolf,” you may as well just shoot me. Nobody in their right mind is guessing “ogre.” Ogre? God I hope you come to hate this word as much as I do by the end of this. If the only sense your hint can be perceived is a metaphorical one, that’s a swing and a miss. 1.5/5.
Nº 3: Fairy Tale Meanie/Fairy Tale Fiend
Number 3 is a toss up. What is there really to say here? We’ve traded our fear-inducing descriptors like “menacing” and “villain” for words with much…weaker connotations. Let’s ignore the lack of actual fairy tales featuring ogres — that’s already been addressed.
This is where I think the authors know that if we read “fairy tale,” our minds immediately jump to “ogre.” All they have to do is hit thesaurus dot come for a new synonym to villain and we get an easier path to that sweet dopamine release that accompanies getting a hint correct. But at what cost? Ogres don’t possess the slyness or the cunning of a true fiend, in my opinion. And what comes to mind when you hear “meanie”?
A child on a playground? No disrespect to children but “meanie” is a small minded word used by small minded people. If the NYT Crossword is employing children to write its Monday puzzles, it would explain a lot as they aren’t doing a good job. Say it with me on three…
1…
2…
3…
Fuck them kids. 2/5.
Nº 2: Shrek, e.g.
I really think we flip a switch here. This is the first good ogre clue. Calling upon the eponymous ogre protagonist of the critically acclaimed Shrek series, this hint does what I think all good crossword hints do: Test my knowledge of recent pop culture within the confines of my lifespan. Translation: I do not know, nor do I care, who Betty White’s costar on Golden Girls was. Stop asking me.
However, the thing that this clue does well simultaneously discredits the previous three. Despite everyone’s best-known ogre being a mud bath-loving, insect-eating character who does not devour children, the previous clues have all herded us towards this derogatory stereotype of a beast. This is where the plurality of the NYT Crossword becomes clear. How do you want us to associate ogres with fiends, villains and meanies only to turn around the next Monday and invoke the fond memory of Shrek, a friendly and well written character who only feigns nastiness to deter trespassers in his swamp?
It doesn’t make sense and that inconsistency is a huge knock against the aforementioned clues as well as the publication as a whole. Disappointing. However, the clue holds its own. 3.75/5.
And at number one… the much awaited finale…
Nº 1: Folklore baddie
This is the one. Concise. Explicit. Nothing more needs to be said. Instagram baddies have nothing on those of folklore. Thank you for reading.
NYT Crossword, I beg you to branch out. Ogre/5.