Samurai Chess:
Mastering the Martial Art of the Mind by
Michael Gelb and Raymond Keene
Review by Tony Miles
The Life and Games of Mikhail Tal by M.Tal.
Cadogan
Review by
Stuart Conquest
Unorthodox
Chess Openings by Eric Schiler. Cardoza
Review by Tony Miles
Samurai
Chess: Mastering the Martial Art of the MindSamurai
by
Michael Gelb and Raymond Keene.
Aurum
Press, 1997, 224pp., £15.95.
Frankly
I wish I’d never agreed to review this book. Criticism of it will inevitably
seem like gratuitous Mondo knocking, and praise will be seriously misplaced.
Actually I quite like the cover. If you want something to leave lying about on a
coffee table it’s just the job. However, opening it is not recommended. The
fly-leaf sets the tone. Raymondo, we learn, is ‘the world’s leading
authority on chess and mind sports’. Really? He is also the ‘winner of 14
separate British championship titles’. That’s twelve more than are generally
known about. Even more impressively, he is ‘an enthusiastic student of martial
arts, recently awarded his sixth kyu certificate in aikido’. We later learn
that 5th and 6th kyu are the equivalent of ‘beginner’ or under 1200 Elo,
though it is not specified how far under 1200.
Co-author Michael Gelb, of whom I knew nothing, is ‘internationally
recognised as a pioneer in the fields of creative thinking, mind-body
coordination and leadership development’. The two met at the Liechtenstein
Global Trust Academy, a concept of Tony Buzan, sponsored by His Serene Highness
Prince Philipp von und zu Liechtenstein, where Mondo was invited to teach chess,
mind sports, and the history of genius and strategy. One wonders about HSH.
The purpose of the book is supposedly to develop one’s talent as a
strategic thinker, and in so doing dramatically improve one’s chess skill.
Well, I didn’t expect to learn much about chess from this epic but I was
curious about the martial arts angle. However, apart from a liberal supply of
quotes from the likes of Sun Tsu and Musashi, there is little of substance. The
only unusual section is a fifteen-page chapter on ‘Harnessing your Physical
and Mental Powers’. This includes such things as diet – a Mondo speciality
(come to think of it, it’s strange he doesn’t lecture on that too) –
meditation and warm-ups for chess! The last of these includes the immortal
instruction ‘Keep your eyes open to avoid dozing.’ This might well have been
mentioned more often. Also, ‘notice the distance between your feet and the top
of your head. You may be surprised to discover that it has expanded’(!)
Without, I hope, the use of a Samurai sword.
Apart form these highlights there is a copious supply of the standard
Mondo waffle. A section on notable chess players includes Tony Buzan (see
above), purveyor of Mondo teaching, Brian Clivaz, former supplier of food to
Mondo at Simpsons, Sir Tim Rice, former neighbour of Mondo, Carol Vorderman,
presenter of Channel 4 chess programmes starring Mondo, Derek Wanless, old
university acquaintance of Mondo... It goes on. I’m surprised his Serene
Highness didn’t make the list. Maybe the next edition.
The section on ‘Perfecting Mind and Body’ gives the real recipe for
success: ‘Practise, practise, practise. Play at every opportunity, take a
portable chess computer with you on trips, and read the daily chess column in The
Times without fail.’
Well, I think you get the general idea, but I do have one last thought.
The much-quoted Musashi’s great claim to fame, apart from his writings, is
that he retained his ability as a swordsman to a remarkably advanced age. If
Mondo is remotely serious about the claims made in the book, he could quite
simply prove his case. Don’t hold your breath.
Tony Miles
The
Life and Games of Mikhail Tal
by
M.Tal.
Cadogan, 1997, 496 pp., £17.99.
I
recently had the good fortune to pass the night chez one of the strongest Swiss
players of all time. Drooling over his amply stocked bookshelves I came across
the original, 1976, RHM version of The
Life and Games of Mikhail Tal. The binding had come apart, pages were
hanging by threads, and the last two chapters were discovered all by themselves
next to something by Harold Robbins.
‘God, Joe,’ I said, ‘this must have seen a lot of use.’
‘Yes,’
he said. ‘The scene where she gets tatooed on horseback is just amazing.’
Ah
yes, it’s a great book all right. It’s even a great Book. (Tal-Böök,
Stockholm, 1961, p.168.) But it’s basically identical to the 1976 edition,
which means that this is nothing like a complete story of Tal’s chess career
– the last game dates from Moscow, 1975, yet there were many accolades still
ahead of the 40-year young ‘Misha’ (e.g. 1st= at Leningrad, 1977, 1st= USSR
Championship, 1978, 1st= at Montreal, 1979, +1 in the 1984 USSR v. Rest of the
World match, as well as just missing out on the Candidates Semi-Finals as late
as 1985). In the period 1981/82 he went over 80 consecutive games without defeat
– an awesome total. His last Olympiad appears to have been Lucerne, 1982,
where he scored +5 =3. A brilliant Tal performance came at the World 5 minute
championship at St. John, 1988, which he won effortlessly. (Nigel Short told me
that he was destroyed by Tal in friendly blitz games during Reykjavik, 1987 –
the tournament where Nigel began with an astonishing 6/6. Tal finished 2nd=.) A
sad footnote to the St.John success is that, according to Mikhail Gurevich,
barely a week later, back in Moscow, Misha was complaining that he was broke.
All his considerable prize money from Canada had already been spent or lost or
given away. He died, just 55 years old, in 1992.
You
can check all these results by consulting the full tournament and match record
at the front of the book – one addition to the 1976 edition. There are also
small corrections in analysis by the omnipresent Dr Nunn (‘This line just
seems to lose a rook...’), and other misprints and errors from ye olde RHM
have been semi-zonked. (N.B. One mistake spotted by this hawk-like reviewer: the
diagram on p.195, a critical line from the famous 6th game of Botvinnik-Tal,
1960, is sadly all wrong.) However, more importantly, they have taken out all
the photos! Now then, I don’t see why Joe’s battered old copy should have
pics of Keres and Gaprindashvili and Petrosian while my new one is devoid of all
human face or flesh, the excellent cover excepted. I suppose it’s something to
do with money.
Here
are some classic chess books with photographs in:
Garry
Kasparov’s Fighting Chess
- Batsford, 1995. $
Bobby
Fischer: Profile of a Prodigy - Dover, 1973. $
Chess
Is My Life (Karpov) - Pergamon, 1980. *
Cuba/66
XVII Olimpiada Mundial de Ajedrez - Ediciones Deportivas, 1966. $
>
Selected
Chess Games of Mikhail Tal
(Hajtun) - Dover, 1975. $
Tal-Botvinnik
1960 - Russell Enterprises, 1996. $
Montreal,
1979 - Pergamon, 1980. $
Meet
the Masters (C.Forbes)
Foroysk
Telving i 20. Old - Talvsamband Foroya, 1997. %
Siegen
Chess Olympiad (Keene and Levy)
- Chess Ltd., 1970. #
$
includes picture(s) of Tal.
*
includes a picture of Karpov’s stamp collection.
>
includes pictures of Che Guevara and Fidel Castro.
^
includes a picture of C. Forbes and R.J. Fischer.
%
includes pictures of the USSR v Faroes match at the 1970 Siegen Olympiad.
#
no Faroese players, but Levy (p.94) and Keene (p.191), plus Spassky
smoking a pipe.
My point being: stars deserve snaps. If Tal doesn’t qualify, who does?

Throughout his career Tal was plagued by health problems, and naturally
his results suffered. However, it is important to remember that Misha’s love
affair with cigarettes and alcohol was entirely self-administered, and some of
his chapter headings (‘Unwell Again’, ‘Recovered’) almost seem to drag
his ailments into centre stage, as if his diseased kidneys were as integral a
part of M. Tal as all his wonderful combinations. He tells us that it was during
the USSR v. West Germany match in Hamburg, 1960, that he first became a
‘real’ smoker, buying a packet of untipped Camels. He gives us the name of
his surgeon in Marianske Lazne. Before his 1965 Candidates Final with Boris
Spassky, Tal’s doctors in Riga discover something ‘completely imaginary’
in his lungs, and prescribe a course of foul medicines. After he loses the
match, the doctors in Tbilisi pronounce him ‘perfectly healthy’. In 1967 he
does ‘a bunk’ from hospital, turns up at the Moscow International, and
finishes joint 2nd. And so it goes on. In 1969, after his kidney is finally
removed, some newspapers in Yugoslavia even report Tal’s ‘complete and final
“defeat”’ – this in the final chapter of the book, ‘My “Death” and
My New Life.’
In
Curacao, 1962, when Tal was so ill that he had to withdraw from the last cycle
of the tournament and be hospitalised, Fischer was the only one of the other
participants to go and visit him. In Bobby
Fischer: Profile of a Prodigy Brady also says that Tal was ‘hurt’ that
none of the Soviet delegation came to see him. Typically, you won’t find any
of this in Tal’s book; he speaks well of everyone, and even when he has good
reason to grumble (such as over the arrangements with Botvinnik and FIDE for the
two title matches, or when he was dropped at short notice from the USSR Olympiad
squad at Lugano) Tal remains remarkably detached, even if we can clearly see
what he would like to say. He admits his occasional indiscretions with good
humour (‘When I want to win against Benko, I win; when I want to draw – I
draw’ was his roguish comment to the press after the famous dark glasses
episode at Bled), but more often shows us his playful, boyish side, such as when
he ‘forgets’ to press his clock against Nona Gaprindashvili because he
doesn’t want to win on time. ‘If you do that again, I’ll resign straight
away!’ is Nona’s splendid reply.
The
games speak for themselves, and the modest, self-effacing notes are a welcome
reminder that even the world’s best rarely play perfect chess. Phrases like
‘...the impulsive Wade could be expected to sacrifice the exchange...’ (!)
or ‘As Petrosian was making this move, Spassky and Geller walked past and
smiled’ reverberate with nostalgia. ‘Normally I play this opening badly’
is another great comment. Can you imagine Gazza or Tolya using that line in
their next manuscript?
The
narrative approach of the book is justly famous: Tal is being ‘interviewed’
by a ‘journalist’ throughout; the questions cover all aspects of Tal’s
career, and often the journalist will suddenly interrupt Tal’s answers to say
something like, ‘Just a minute! How was it that you sacrificed a piece,
without special justification, against a grandmaster?’ or (my fave) ‘I have
a photograph from the beginning of the third game. Spassky is sitting at the
board, bent low and ready to spring...’ It all seems authentic, and yet right
at the start we have: ‘Dialogue between a chess player and a journalist
(instead of an autobiography); dramatis personae: A CHESS PLAYER. Mikhail Tal. A
JOURNALIST. Who knows, perhaps alias...’ Conventional wisdom is that Misha
played both parts, White and Black, all the way through...
If you
have the RHM edition, and it’s still in good nick (unlikely), you don’t need
this Cadogan clone. Otherwise, foresake the latest Winning With... or How to
Play... title you’d set your wallet on and take Misha home instead – you
won’t be disappointed.
I was
fortunate enough to meet (and beat) the great man once, in Tbilisi, 1988. He
didn’t know me from Adam Raoof, but was extremely courteous in the
post-mortem, politely pointing out why my analysis was often, but not always, a
load of crap. It was chess heaven. On the free day I was invited to share some
of his thermos of warm vodka on the excursion bus, and everyone crowded round as
a drunk Misha regaled us with stories from his glorious past. My horrendous loss
to Gufeld the next day didn’t matter in the slightest.
Alexei
Shirov, fellow Latvian (okay, Spaniard) says the following in Fire
on Board about getting to know Tal personally: ‘I was still too weak to
understand his chess ideas at that time but I remember being covered in smoke
(approximately ten cigarettes an hour.)’
My
favourite Tal story concerns Neil McDonald. As I remember it, Neil went to the
USSR for an all-play-all, and had to meet Tal in the first round. Thrilled to
bits at playing his hero, and remembering Tal’s legendary first-round faiblesse
(Misha lost a huge number of first round games throughout his career; N.B.
Tal-Conquest, Tbilisi, 1988, was played in round 6) Neil couragously offered a
pawn quite early on, challenging his fiery opponent to a battle royal. A
red-haired Englishman offering a pawn to the Old Magician! The great maestro
blinked, took it, swapped queens, and won the ending. Ah. There was only one
Misha.
Stuart
Conquest
Unorthodox
Chess Openings
by
Eric Schiler.
Cardoza Publishing 1998, 520 pp., £18.95.
Utter crap.
Tony
Miles