Immortality Is But a Checkmate Away
By Andy Nguyen, Arts & Living Editor
Legend has it that when Baghdad was under siege in 762 A.D., a messenger burst into the palace to report the city's defeat to Muhammad al-Amin, the sixth caliph of the Abbasid Empire and a blood relative to the Prophet Muhammad. Despite the downfall of what was then the capital of the Islamic Empire, however, al-Amin would not be moved; he was busy playing chess against his favorite eunuch, Kauthar.

Whether this story is apocryphal is beside the point. As David Shenk shows in his history of chess, "The Immortal Game," what the tale ultimately points to is the transcendent power of a game which has captivated players around the world for over 1,400 years.

Chess as we know it today first emerged in Persia, where it was called chatrang. Shenk observes that, as a game, chess represented a departure from the philosophy of its predecessors in that it did not involve dice or any reliance upon chance.

"A Muslim philosopher has maintained that the inventor of chess was a [believer] in the freedom of the will," wrote Islamic historian al-Mas'udi.

Far from a mere diversion, chess has long served as a metaphorical foil, an elegant abstraction which simplifies otherwise thorny realities. In the middle ages, chess was used to reinforce notions of class; pawns and kings had distinct offices and limitations as did serfs and feudal lords. More recently, philosopher Ludwig Wittgeinstein used chess to explore language and mathematics and physicist Richard Feynman was known to invoke chess examples in his lectures at CalTech.

Thanks to its emphasis on logic and analysis, chess has also long been associated with the exploration of the human mind. The first cognitive scientists investigated the workings of human memory by studying chess phenoms who were able to play multiple games while blindfolded. Some psychoanalysts have even ascribed Oedipal motivations to the game. "It is plain," wrote Freud biographer Ernest Jones, "that the unconscious motive of activating [chess] players is not the mere love of pugnacity characteristic of all competitive games, but the grimmer one of father murder … It will not surprise the psychoanalyst when he learns … that in attacking the father the most potent assistance is afforded by the mother ( = Queen)."

Shenk notes that, in addition to serving as an analytical tool, chess has also inspired countless artists and authors; Vladimir Nabokov's "The Defense" tells of a chess grandmaster who uses the game as a refuge from reality, Cervantes used chess to explore social inequity in "Don Quixote," and we're all familiar with Lewis Carroll's "Through the Looking Glass," which is based on a game of chess in which Alice is a pawn.

Chess has not only impacted history, however, but has itself reflected shifting times and customs. It has been suggested that the development of a powerful Queen piece, for example, comprised an homage to Isabella of Spain, herself a "personification of new female power" who was widely regarded as more powerful than her husband, King Ferdinand. During the Cold War, chess served as a mode of competition between America and the Soviet Union, with prodigy Bobby Fischer pitted against Boris Spassky and the USSR's chess "machine."

"The Immortal Game" is not simply a historical account, however. The title is actually a double entendre which refers both to chess' storied legacy and to a match which took place between Adolf Anderssen and Lionel Kieseritzky in 1851 at The Grand Divan, a chess club in London.

Though part of no greater tournament, this contest would come to be recognized as one of the most brilliant in the history of the game. Anderssen and Keseritzky's "Immortal Game," is delineated move-by-move in Shenk's book. The match epitomizes "romantic" chess, a style of play popular at the time and which was characterized by daring gambits and tactical bravura (by contrast, modern schools of chess typically emphasize a more holistic approach which, while effective, is ostensibly more restrained).

Those unfamiliar with chess would probably laugh at the idea that a board game might be "romantic" or in any way daring. Still, as the Immortal Game unfolds chapter by chapter, Shenk's suspenseful narration, in concert with the brilliance of the game itself, makes it surprisingly easy to see that real intrigue may unfold on a checkered board.

In "The Immortal Game," Shenk conveys a rich culture and love of chess with a winsome enthusiasm, and readers unfamiliar with or estranged from the game are likely to give chess another look after finishing this book. Moreover, Shenk makes a persuasive argument for the modern day relevance of chess as an avenue for critical thought.

"The single greatest danger to ourselves and future generations is to stop thinking," says Shenk, "and it behooves us to do anything we can to encourage spinning, skeptical minds. To do this, we will need powerful thought tools like chess to help our minds expand."

Issue 04, Submitted 2006-09-27 23:18:37