Book Review 4 (The Modern French)

John Lennon once said that French rock is like English wine. Would he be rocking if he read ‘The Modern French’ if he were still alive…well read on and decide for yourself.

They say you should never judge a book by its cover but surely the best way to know what a book is about, who wrote it or what the price is, is to look at the cover which tells us the text ‘The Modern French’ arrives courtesy of Antic (no not Raddy) and Maksimovic, who have teamed up with New In Chess. On the back cover, the text claims to ‘change your view of one of the most popular openings of all time’ – and no that’s not a daft attempt to sell a book, it is in fact a very daft attempt to sell a book. Literature in chess tends to lack the transformative capacity its impoverished authors & publishers tend to play up, so along with the bright red cover it was I who was initially ‘rocked’ upon receipt of this rather strangely bundled reading material. Also on the cover we see the words ‘A Complete Guide for Black’. Given that Carlsen has recently been lashing out with the Winawer, I thought I’d look up the lines he’s been playing. Imagine my surprise when I found it had been omitted from the text altogether, along with the also popular Burn and Rubinstein variations. What kind of ‘Complete Guide’ could this be, I asked myself? The title -also to be found on the cover oddly enough- claims that the book details ‘The Modern French’ yet upon perusal many of the lines covered are far from modern…I was indeed perplexed and felt compelled to read on, safe in the knowledge that any book on the French Defence simply must be a good read (yes you’ve guessed it, the author plays the French Defence too).

Start Right!

The Foreword (more about that to come) reads as follows ‘Over the intensive two-year effort of writing this book, the aim of the authors has been to present you with more than the traditional bone-dry analysis of all possible variations [?]. To this aim, apart from explaining the essential strategies and plans pertinent to this opening, we also cover a multitude of complex plans and theoretical novelties as part of our new strategic approach’. That’s a strange start. Those who write in a professional capacity don’t usually draw attention to a period of time as short as that, bearing in mind to get where you are usually involves research over periods far greater. Fifteen years or a lifetime of effort, okay now we are getting there but two years? That’s on a par with the your first post-grad qualification, what’s so exceptional about that? More crucially, for a number of reasons I will point to later, I don’t believe the text even constitutes two years of ‘intensive’ effort. I also don’t believe that the approach offered by the authors is particularly new either; ‘new’ for them maybe but only them. One text that does attempt to give a ‘bone-dry analysis’ and, in my opinion is what the authors are alluding to, is Lev Psakhis’ book ‘The Complete French’, but if this is the sort of thing they are trying to move away from it needs to be asked why they have copied/used the same format? Though successful attempts are made to summarize and highlight key positions throughout, originality or lack thereof pervades the text from start to finish on a number of levels. The text smells of a copied, but improved, version meaning that aspects of the text are misdescribed by the authors.

Once again from the Foreword: The French has been an integral part of many top players’ repertoires  [but isn’t this true of most mainstream openings?], and it was the key weapon in the hands of old masters such as Botvinnik and contemporary stars such as Carlsen and Morozevich. When you look at their tournament results, it becomes clear that they chose the French Defence in important games, when they need to secure a win with the black pieces.’  What a load of old tosh, the sentence simply isn’t true -shame upon the editor. Carlsen does play the French but only occasionally and rarely in crucial games. Trying to over-emphasize the importance of the French Defence by construing language to suggest that its selection is habitual amongst certain top players is just another cheap sell. I don’t understand why the Foreword is used to try and sell you the book. It’s an unpersuasive start I must say. To conclude this section, I also don’t understand why the Winawer has been left out, if demonstrating how essential winning with the French is, then I suspect it’s omission tells us more about the book than anything else -the authors simply don’t play it.

What I definitely liked about this book.

1) It’s about the French Defence!

2) The analysis is, undoubtedly, the strong point of the book. It is sound throughout, as well as being easy to assimilate. A good balance has been found between range and depth of response with much quality annotation to boot.

3)  I was personally happy to see that the authors dropped the tradition of starting with rare and unusual moves. I’ve always found retaining motivation to be an issue when you are forced to wade almost half-way into a book before anything familiar emerges. I was also happy to see that chapters are finishing with concluding remarks. Though perhaps more could be said, the remarks do tie in well with the content, helping those of us who are less gifted.

What I definitely didn’t like about this book

1) Attention to detail is lacking in places. A foreword is only a foreword when its written by someone else and not when its written by the authors of the book. That’s what we’ve called a preface for the last several hundred years. The game on pages 58 & 59 isn’t referenced properly. It reads Schebler-Art.     Minasian, Kalithea 2008. Since I know GM Schebler, I asked him about this. He informed me that his opponent was named Artashes Minasian, and not Art. The punctuation denotes abbreviation but given the spacing, I wasn’t sure whether Minasian was part of his name or a place, it is unclear in the text.

2) Some attempts to infuse modernity or provide context are crude and inexact. For example, pg 59: ‘3. e5 is regarded as the third strongest move, [justification?] after 3.Nc3 and Nd2. The recent tournament practice confirms this assessment.’ Poor English and vague, unsupported statements here. ‘When it comes to old masters, the biggest fans of the advance variation, Nimzowitch and Paulsen, provided the biggest theoretical advances. Later on, a number of top players, adopted this variation as part of their regular repertoire [the correct connotation is main repertoire]. You couldn’t make this stuff up, and I am supposed to believe this book constitutes a two-year intensive effort? This is just another example of crap writing in chess.

3) The concept of the book lacks refinement. The format of the book is so similar to Psakhis’ ‘The Complete French’ I did expect it to be in the wafer-thin bibliography but its not there. I find that to be rather suspicious. Also missing is Nigel Short’s book, and Shaun Taulbut’s, both of which are essential reading for the French. More importantly, the handling of the Tarrasch is somewhat idiosyncratic. We are only offered Morozevich’s 3…Be7. All it needs is for someone else to come over the top with more concrete analysis showing exactly what is wrong with the response 3. Be7 (though the authors seem to know already), and the entire chapter will be rendered obsolete. Sounder 3rd moves clearly exist, Nf6 and c5 spring to mind and should have been offered. Though 3. Be7 is a modern move, and thus fits in with the overall aim of the book soundness cannot be sacrificed for the sake of modernity. In offering more third move alternatives, at least the authors would have a get out of jail free card to play if 3 Be7 does not stand the test of time. Some of the positions shown, particularly where white plays 4. e5 & 5. Qg4 require a horrendous level of precision if black is to avoid being wiped out early on…I for one certainly won’t be playing them. The poor exposition of the Tarrasch reveals the limitations of the book more clearly than anywhere else. The reader has little choice other than to follow the authors down a precipitous path, the option of an alternative route would have been a more pragmatic decision in the pre-writing phase.

When I studied at post-grad level, I was taught by one of my professors that in order to write about something, you need to define what it is first. So what is the modern French? We simply don’t know because the question doesn’t arise. What does modern mean? Post-Kasparov? I don’t know. Confusingly, I noticed John Watson in the reading list, who is one of the few authors in chess that can document development in chess successfully, but why can’t the authors reference his work and inform the reader since he is in the bibliography? We are presented with an array of carefully indexed modern games, but that is just exposition. No effort is made to state whether the line being played is modern -often not the case in the text- and in what sense it is modern. Why are certain moves defined by modernity? Too little is said.

What I think the title alludes to is a modernized text on the French. Questions can be asked over why we have both the Steinitz and the McCutcheon in the book when the Winawer can replace both. If the McCutcheon is so great, then perhaps the authors would like to explain why it is virtually non-existent at the highest level? Again, this ‘Complete Guide’ is complete in the sense that it fulfils the authors impartation of their own preferences, whether they have homed in on relatively unexplored, modern lines solely to create strong marketing points or to substantiate their own analysis is a question only they can answer, the answer lies somewhere between the two I suspect.

4) Given that the book aims to provide key positions and structures, as part of its successful attempt to offer an in-depth look at the french, why are we denied, middle and endgames? Surely its crucial to see how the strategic motives are played out, seeing that such value is placed upon them? Annotation would be useful but not necessary. The authors could have given you the option of playing through the game yourself without having to go on line.

A Conclusion

I’m not sure what John Lennon would have made of this book, I think he would have said it hummed rather than rocked. But seriously, I think ‘The Modern French’ has greater strengths than weaknesses but will never be considered to be a classic, as there is too much room for improvement in it. The content is at times superficial and at others in-depth and highly informative. We are never freed from its erratic twists and turns, which probably comes down to a lack of writing credentials more than anything else. How else can we interpret the total lack of originality in the format and style of the book as constituting anything other than a lack writing craft? It is true that improvements have been made if you compare the work to Psarkis’ but they are not sufficient in themselves. The analysis is sound and impressive but just about everything else is sloppy and imprecise. There is a strong tendency in chess to copy or base your work previous publications, ‘The Modern French’ disappointingly fits into that tradition in my opinion.

Anyway, that’s just my take on things. I stand to be corrected as always.

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Book Review 3 (Edward Winter: Chess Facts and Fables)

Did you know that a rain forest the size of Covent Garden is cut down everyday to make way for chess publications? Hundreds of species are reported to have lost their home, become untraceable (as no forwarding address was left) and even extinct occasionally. One species, it is said, secreted an oil which has soothing capacities for those in time-trouble, an indigenous GM from Brazil claimed. He added further that pre-match preparation rarely extended beyond incorporating the oil into a balm which would be rubbed into the shins during play. I wonder if chess will ever become partially responsible for environmental catastrophe -that is should such a thing be possible-hmm…perhaps I should stop buying hard copies and seek out the soft copy in a less guiltier fashion just in case?!

Not intentionally -and without guilt I might add- I recently picked up the publication that cost the most out of the 30-something books I’ve acquired this year. It’s not often that I pay over 40 quid for a book, in fact its only ever happened twice in my whole life. Being the most expensive chess book I’ve ever bought, perhaps it was inevitable that the publication would pop its way up the reading order somehow.

The book I am referring to is Edward Winter’s Chess Facts and Fables. which is a McFarland publication from deepest, darkest two thousand and six…or 2006 as its also known. Winter is known for his famous Chess Notes website. Like many, I have respect for its author, which is the primary reason why I bought the book. Specifically, I wanted to see how the published and on-line content differed, hoping the published material would be superior in content. Though there’s truth in that, the published material does not differ greatly in quality, though enough to justify purchase.

Some Comments

The purpose of the text is explained clearly in the preface:

‘Fact and fable are commonly intermingled, and chess historians have a hard time disentangling them, for the game’s literature is particularly blighted by untrustworthy assertions, rickety anecdotes and dubious quotes. The intention of the Chess Notes series, which began in 1982, is to sort out fact from fable and to present fresh, accurate material.’

Winter is not a distinguished player as such but a historian (not an historian given that it is currently 2012), meaning that the text is academic in approach and format. He is critical of chess literature on the whole, with the rigours of academia perhaps putting him at variance with literary conventions, or lack thereof, in chess literature. Before looking more closely at the text, I would like to reflect upon this potential variance with a pre-amble.

A Preamble

How do we make headway through the jungle of chess literature effectively? Is it a fundamental mistake to attribute blame towards a collective of individuals within chess, or are there issues within the literary culture of chess which are broader? Here’s some thoughts from William Hartston, taken from the August edition of the British magazine Chess:

“You have to separate the professional players who are actually making a living out of the game, and the professional players who are just layabouts who don’t do anything other than play chess of whom there are always lots” (pg.24) 

I would like to argue that Bill’s comments apply to literature in chess for a number of reasons. Without over-simplifying matters, there are many authors in chess who have a noticeable weakness in terms of distinguishing ability from knowledge, and in turn knowledge from the communication of knowledge. There’s often an underlying assumption amongst the guilty that being endowed with chess ability enables you to write & research competently, which are it seems, not skills in their own right. Instead, they are natural bi-products from chess ability and thus do not need to be practiced and mastered to the extent that chess does. Unfortunately, there is some justification here: if a literary genre is poor on the whole, why should anyone have to worry about the quality of their publications? Aren’t my mates the publishers? And won’t that uncritical reader Joe Public just buy anyway? However, should you want to achieve originality rather than mediocrity, then a more reflective approach is required. On page 132, Winter describes the writing of Reinfield and Golombek as being glib and portentous in its attempt to reveal the motivations of Botvinnik. I can’t reproduce the source as the quotation is lengthy, however, it is hard to disagree that what is reproduced appears fabricated rather than researched. On page 248, former world champion Lasker comes under scrutiny, appearing in an article named ‘Literary Controversies’

“An English edition of Dr.Lasker’s ‘Chess Manual had just come out to a most reverential reception by the critics. The Doctor, however, had by no means done his homework, and furthermore had indulged in some obscure philosophy and phoney eloquence which, had it come from anyone else, might have raised an awful whisper of waffle!”…

Personally, I’ve always found motivation to be a perpetual problem in chess literature, and that its vital -not necessary- to ask yourself what the primary purpose behind writing is: to educate or to supplement an income in a poor man’s game by making a name for yourself? Did the author actually enjoy the writing process, do they have the credentials to write effectively, and if so, exactly how much thought went into the construction of the text, given that incoherent analysis, incomplete sections, rushed, wrong format, contradictory, poorly researched, no substantiation of important points, can seem par for the course with certain publishers & authors? Winter, often appearing as a sniper, has an easy time taking such individuals to task, as we all have. However, it is important to remember that the relative structure of academia (where some of us do perform proper research) and publishing in chess differ greatly.

In broader terms, the problem of practitioners misapplying themselves to the craft of writing can be found in all sports & pastimes. It is not just chess that suffers from this problem as many distinguished sportsmen/women often turn their hand to writing, usually with negative results. Though, in my opinion chess literature is generally poor, there has been discernible improvement in the last ten-twenty years. Poker, the game of the day according to Kasparov, is another good example of game in which top players will write about how to improve your game, whilst lacking the skills to do so effectively. The author of this blog has delved into such publications, and can confirm that poker literature is in far worse shape than chess literature, generally speaking (but makes for a better xmas present).

The question of exactly who should and shouldn’t write is a complex one as many factors -most importantly profit-can dictate; having a name or a title, however, can create a false sense of security by offering opportunity where those more suitably qualified are overlooked. After all, why wouldn’t you want to hear directly from someone who has helped fashion history rather than some unknown academic or journalist, isn’t that how the story goes? Well you should at least question such an approach because the person who literally writes history with their achievement is rarely able to document it effectively. Sometimes, sound literary practice doesn’t even come in the window let alone go out it, what is produced is often questionable on a number of levels, as Winter mentions above. What I think is particularly frustrating about chess is that it is an intellectual pursuit, you -or at least I- don’t expect the craft of writing to be treated with such scant regard. Top chess players are noted for being bookish and intellectual yet they frequently contribute poor literature, completely lacking in inspiration and originality. Writing, like chess, is an art/science/skill, whatever you want to call it, that takes years to master. If you believe you can write effectively about something you do just like that with no real talent, training or application, then in my opinion, you have allowed either a need for money or a love of chess to blind you. There’s a saying which goes ‘Those who can, do, those who can’t teach’ In the context of the modern game I would modify that to ‘Those who can, do and write about it too, whilst those who can’t teach’. It shouldn’t be like that, pools of talent should be based on merit only and should remain separate from one another so that neither drags the other down. It’s only us who are rubbish at everything -my particular field of expertise-that should cross boundaries so willy-nilly, as no one cares what we say -right readers?

Once again my points are generic, I will refer more directly to examples as I encounter them. I should close by stating it is not my intention to review texts that are suspect, nor to criticize and offer solutions. This pre-amble was written to highlight issues that are apparent to me within chess literature and to reflect upon them, that’s all.

Content

Some points of personal interest within, starting with the Anglophile, Capablanca.

Chess by climate

It’s probably illegal for Cubans to dislike Capablanca and being a Brit I am compelled to say that I also enjoyed the Capablanca interview on page 89. I say this because of the close relationship Britain and Cuba have, ever since a bus route was constructed between the two, following this linked tv clip http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uc_NS_4QCWI. The tricky thing about interviews, however, is that the uncreative journalist can only publish what was said, they cannot publish what the interviewee thought of the interview or the interviewer. There are often good reasons for this, such as wanting to keep your job. But all this means that its difficult to ascertain the seriousness of what has been said. If the person being interviewed disregards the publication or doesn’t like the interviewer, the interview is often best ignored. Let’s look at a rather tongue in cheek Capablanca in transit from Havana to Moscow:

‘Climate, Capablanca said, has more to do with creating chessplayers than any other factor. He regards himself as an ‘accident’ in the chess world, as, he asserts, tropical or semi-tropical countries seldom produce a chessplayer…England, he thinks, produces excellent chessplayers because of its peculiarly raw climate, which drives men into indoor pursuits’.

Though he may have been able to support his views with statistical data, I would like to think his comments are somewhat light-hearted, perhaps inspired by a cuise-liner martini? Of course Capablanca wasn’t to know of the contribution chess has made towards environmental catastrophe and its impending doom, in which most countries will be either ‘tropical or semi-tropical’ as he put it.

More seriously, a serious attempt is made to document the often overlooked period of transition between Alekhine and Botvinnik. I found this to be section fascinating if somewhat incredible in places. Above all, I helped frame the difficulties F.I.D.E has had throughout its history, revealing that internal dissensions are precisely what gives F.I.D.E its name. It is a sad fact that 70 years on, little has changed. I don’t think we’ll ever be seeing GM Danny King applying his catch-phrase ‘Start-right’ to F.I.D.E.

An example of how easy Winter’s job is can be found on page 110. He addresses a misquotation by Chernev, concerning what is generally considered to be the worst advice in chess, that being the oft quoted ‘Great players never castle’. Winter is quick to point out that the original statement runs as follows ‘Good players seldom castle until the end of the game, and often never at all’. The alleged ‘worst advice in chess’ is in fact nothing more than a statement based upon the play of a few individuals.

On page 257, Mr Winter turns his attention to Kasparov’s work entitled ‘My Great Predecessors’ ??! –  a highly dubious publication. Though, admittedly, much of the content of Mr.Winter’s writing can appear a little obscure and perhaps even irrelevant, here is a topic which is of great importance for the modern chess player. The account provided is invaluable to any inquiring reader as so much can be learnt -and not learnt-from the collective effort which Mr.Kasparov has put his name to. The listed errors alone is off-putting, however, but for those of us who do enjoy writing for what it is can tell you, it is the construction of the text that is most revealing. What Mr.Winter has to say is important not only because it draws into question the text itself but also, to some degree, the literary circles within which the text appeared. Those of us who have dared to delve into them know how abhorrent they can be…sadly we are in a small minority.

To conclude, reading Winter’s work is an education in itself. It questions the efforts of generations of chess players without being haughty or condescending. Given that it is the only text I have read which he has written, I do not wish to extend my comments to his more general aims for writing. It is true that there is a sense in which exemplifying the mistakes of others is an all-too-easy task, and at times I did wonder where it all leads, as defining what history is or what it involves for Mr.Winter is difficult to establish. I hope that I will one day find a definition of what history is according to Mr.Winter, because his efforts to establish truths in chess more often involve correcting others than constructing the past with his own voice.

Unfortunately, many regard the critic as an enemy, instead of seeing him as a guide to the truth …  –  Wilhelm Steinitz

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