McCreadyandChess

The Genius and the misery of chess, I came across this text after reading several reviews on-line. It arrived in my hands just before I was about to order an Arrabbiata, at a local restaurant and being relatively small text, I began reading what at first appeared to be an entertaining, if somewhat superficial, account of genius and misery in chess, the purpose of the text being to account for both in chess, and perhaps reveal connections between them. The title and concept behind the book struck me as being not just intriguing but entirely sound, with the lives and characters of players ranging from As-Suli the exile (880-946) to Magnus Carlsen being covered. However, the final paragraph of the introduction reads as such “You won’t find full biographies here. What you will find is the essence of players, the triumphs and tragedies that shaped their lives. You will get a fascinating look at chess and chess players from a perspective you may never have considered before” (pg6) It is undeniably true that literature in chess is primarily theory orientated and that we often don’t know much about the lives of past and present practitioners. Whether or not the ‘essence’ of an entire career can be told in one or two pages is another issue. Personally, I think that’s stretching the concept a little, particularly when there is no methodological account of how the author arrived at his conclusions. Another compounding difficulty is that we are also denied the author’s sources. Though some scant referencing is in evidence, we do not have a bibliography and are thus unable to check whether the author has researched the subject sufficiently. Though this may sound pedantic, it is in fact essential; without such literary conventions in place, the reader is practically forced to go along with what the author says. Irrespective of how knowledgeable the author may feel, it is unscholarly to assume that what they say will be correct per se. Unfortunately, there are moments in the text where it becomes abundantly clear that the author isn’t correct (more on them to come). Though we are offered a list of Suggested Further Reading, it is far too thin for a work which covers so much ground. More worryingly, some texts directly contradict the author, and others are contentious to say the least, drawing much criticism from many within the game. Though I did gain some enjoyment from this lite-read, I found myself gradually losing more and more confidence in it, to the point where I stopped taking it seriously on any level. The author is an International Arbiter and has written over 30 publications yet what I found was someone with poor writing skills relying on his experience -and presumably contacts- within the game to sell the book. Though it could serve well for cross-referencing purposes, I concluded that the only real use of the text was to serve as a starting point of interest, in the same way that web-sites such as Wikipedia function. If trustworthiness isn’t top priority, and you need background info, then The Genius and the Misery of Chess, has a use. It could also serve well as a present for someone with a passing interest in the game. It took me 2 long days to get from cover to cover, which I felt obliged to do, seeing as I had bought the thing.

Some points:

Prior to this read, I’d never heard of Mongoose Press, and hopefully never will again. It’s claimed that there was a team of editorial consultants but I find that difficult to believe. The book was originally written in Russian and translated into English, though it’s not clear whether the translation is in-house or not. I noticed very early on that there are a number of issues concerning unnatural usage of English. Other issues concern paragraphing, which is completely random throughout, and tone which is frequently informal and at times conversational. In general terms, the writing displays a lack of craft and control. Serious issues arise concerning content, some of which, raises doubts that need answering. For example, (pg 25) :

“…he [Morphy] began his historic, triumphant journey around Europe, during which he defeated all the champions of England and France, and finished with the German Anderssen, the untitled chess king of the Old World.” 

What is the basis for this assertion? Why does he say this when it is common knowledge that Staunton avoided Morphy, and when the texts contained within the suggested reading support this view explicitly?

Most of the official world champions (presumably the most talented of their era) are missing from the text, there is no explanation why or those who have suffered a far more tragic end than many in the text are omitted too, the sad figure of Lembet Oll springs to mind. The section on Capablanca is incomplete, it cuts off half-way through his playing career. Though noted for his genius, the account of him reiterates that which has been documented countless times before, leaving us wondering why the section is there at all. A similar problem arises with Przepiorka. Again, much of what is said is superficial and not well-researched. There are uncommissioned documentaries on youtube which do a much better job of telling his tragic story. When literature has to succumb to amateur film-making for content, something is clearly not right. The section on Nigel Short is also incomplete and makes no effort to explain what became of his genius. We are left with the feeling that the author is over-reliant upon his own concept for the book and own understanding of chess history, without having the skills necessary to offer a more professional and thus credible account of what is presented. Though a chronology of players is offered, understanding the nature of the chronology presented is almost impossible, owing to the arbitrary selection of material chosen.

What did Bobby do wrong in the eyes of the author?

Some content suggests a lack of self-reflection in the work itself. The writing descends to a tone of hostility at times, and shows an uncritical bias towards the author’s origin. Rather than analyze Fischer’s claims that ‘The Russians’ (of which the author is one) conspired against him, he fires a cheap ad hominem against him and claims that ‘he [Fischer] even claimed the Russians of conspiring against him’. Those more professionally minded might see such material as an opportunity to explore, and potentially re-write history with evidence supporting their claims. Another issue concerning control arises, again concerning Fischer:

“…Bobby won by 17.5:12.5 and received $3.5 million.

And so ended the new chess fiesta in Robert James Fischer’s biography. It ensured him a proverbial place in the history of chess”

The style and content is simply too conversational. Apart from the lack of clarity regarding the terminology employed, a two-line paragraph beginning with a conjunction shows a lack of understanding behind the purpose of a paragraph. Further contempt towards Fischer is evident:

“But the 29-year old American Grandmaster was dissatisfied, so he began with his notorious tricks. The opening ceremony was postponed twice; there were rumours that the match was threatened by failure. However, Bobby had foreseen everything; at the critical moment, the news arrived that Slater had doubled the prize money.”

Context is essential 

Many great players died in poverty, some from incurable diseases. Given the era they played in there is, however, nothing exceptional about that. Without sounding cold, its not moving to learn that Rubinstein lost his mind in an age where diagnosis of mental illness was in its infancy or that a chess player died of an incurable disease. It stuck me that the fate of many great chess players was no different to many of their era. Of course it is sad that their lives and chess career were cut short but the circumstances surrounding such demise was not untypical. Cases where death came cruelly, such as Przepiorka, occupy only a fraction of the material covered.

Some points of interest

I did notice that the content showed greater insight towards the modern era, and that the author did have a much better understanding of the Russian players. The sections on Alekhine and Spassky appear sound, but again since we are denied the sources we cannot be sure, however, a degree of control appears which we don’t see elsewhere.

There isn’t too much chess in the publication but its there. Ignoring a few exceptions, I found the games included to be of much interest. The author sought out career-defining victories, though not necessarily those commonly found elsewhere. Pilsbury’s talents are exemplified well, and lesser known players such as Stolberg all have games to play through. This is a definite strength of the book, and in terms of aspect, comes closest to realizing the author’s aims. Games can shape careers more perspicuously than events can shape lives (anyone who has studied consequentialism in its modern form can attest to that).

To conclude, to me this text is an example of what is questionable about chess literature rather than what is great about it. It is an over-ambitious work that makes no real effort to account for historical events with any credibility, leaving the reader with the awkward dilemma of having to accept what is said unequivocally or treat the text with a general mistrust. I chose the latter and hope that the author confines himself to auto-biography in the future, where I am sure he has much to say. The content is really nothing more than oration, with a few literary practices dressing it up to appear as something else. Should it leave you feeling somewhat down, there’s always the following link to read, which addresses similar topics but more professionally, and hence with greater credibility http://chessbase.com/newsdetail.asp?newsid=8534 .

MJM