A Devilishly Difficult New Crossword

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The ancient Greeks called it katabasis: a test of heroism by descent into the underworld. The deeper you go, the more difficult the journey becomes. But if you can withstand the heat as you approach eternal damnation, you return to Earth’s surface with the wisdom to transcend mortal fear. This mythic quest has long captured the cultural imagination, from Orpheus to Barbarian. It has the power to bestow superhuman glory on those who survive. And it’s also the concept behind my new crossword, appearing on the back page of each new print issue of The Atlantic.

The back page of a print magazine is consecrated space for a puzzle: one final flourish, like the cherry on a sundae or the outro of a power ballad. Even in our age of ephemerality, the essential experience of the crossword, to me, remains sitting around the breakfast table with loved ones and the Sunday New York Times Magazine, shouting answers, arguing, passing the puzzle around, pooling knowledge to forge ahead and collectively rise to the intellectual challenge.

To do justice to this tradition for The Atlantic’s elegant and historic print editions, I knew I needed to make something diabolically special. I wanted to give the classic print crossword a fresh narrative spin without changing the tried-and-true mechanics that have kept readers turning to the back page Sunday after Sunday for so many years. The Atlantic mini, which we publish every weekday and Sundays, gets larger and more difficult as the week progresses. This structure offers a gentle introduction to novice players, and it gives experienced solvers a yardstick they can measure themselves against week after week. It’s the cruciverbal journey that first hooked me: an ongoing test of acuity, contextualizing personal progress across a week, a month, a year. What if that same journey could be re-created over the course of one puzzle?

At first glance, Inferno might seem like your average, run-of-the-mill crossword puzzle. List of numbered clues? Check. Empty grid with corresponding numbers? Double check. You, the inveterate solver, using one to fill in the other? Duh. But look again: The grid you’ve come to know as perfectly square has been transmogrified into a tall, thin pillar, like a skyscraper. And once you start solving, you’ll see that the puzzle begins easy as pie, and gets tougher and tougher as you solve downward, until, I hope, you reach the bottom stumped and sweating. The puzzle is a slow descent into devilish difficulty, simple enough to slip into but nearly impossible to complete. That’s why it’s called an Inferno: Like Dante’s katabasis into hell, the deeper you go, the more severe the punishment.

Inferno taps into what I love about print puzzles. You solve as much as you can. Then you get stuck and stow the magazine somewhere safe while the frustrating blockade of clues burbles in your subconscious. A few days later, you pick the puzzle back up to find the knot of knowledge untied by some unseen cognitive force inside you. Your momentum returns, and you cruise along victoriously … until you hit the next impenetrable barricade. Lather, rinse, and repeat; before you know it, you’ve conquered the unconquerable, and another magazine with another unconquerable challenge arrives in the mail.

Can you plumb the very bottom of this puzzle’s infernal depths before the next issue hits the newsstands? Can you at least get a little closer each time? My advice, as with every crossword, is to be patient and build from what you know. A long “spine” answer will run down the center of the puzzle, traversing each tier of difficulty, which should help you gain a toehold in even the toughest tangles. Test your prowess starting in the July/August 2023 issue of The Atlantic. The puzzle will also be available to play online, and the answer key will be posted on www.theatlantic.com/inferno.