The best new writing and the greatest classics under one roof… in association with Forward Chess Perpetual Chess Improvement, Ben Johnson (New In Chess)
‘When it comes to chess improvement, there is no such thing as a lone wolf.’
Many of us are doubtless avid listeners to Ben Johnson’s Perpetual Chess podcast, and I would encourage those who are not to immediately download it. Over the years Johnson has spoken with lots of people in the chess world, from the strongest of GMs through to new and improving amateurs. Johnson and his guests have a real knack for sharing empathetic insights in a way that enables players at all levels to both learn and to laugh. Inevitably the subject of chess improvement has been a major theme. As Johnson puts it, ‘Chess can be a lonely pursuit at times, and listeners loved to hear the stories of their kindred spirits with helpful advice to share.’
Perpetual Chess Improvement seeks to bring the power of this wonderful podcast to the written page. Drawing on various of the interviews and a host of other excellent sources and personal reflections, Johnson looks anew at the subject of chess improvement, starting with a revelation that is not made often enough, namely ‘I have observed that there is very little chess improvement advice on which nearly everyone agrees.’
We’ve all been there. Should we work on our openings? Endings? Tactics? Is the secret doing a hundred puzzles a day, or (as Johnson quotes) did Pillsbury have it right when he said, ‘Before entering a tournament, I make it a point to take a good, long sleep, but that is my only form of preparation.’ The great strength of this book is its ability to share a range of perspectives such that the reader can get a better feel as to what might be the best way forward for them.
Johnson identifies playing in tournaments, analysis, tactics, and being part of a chess community as four key foundational pillars. As he freely acknowledges, ‘Hard work does not guarantee ratings gains in today’s competitive chess climate.’ As Johnson further puts it, ‘The harsh truth is that for working adults who have been playing chess for years, improving your chess, or at least significantly raising your rating, can be excruciatingly difficult.’
Yet for those of us who want to get better (which I am assuming is all of us) there is much comfort to take from these words. Recognising that the goal of chess improvement is not an easy one feels like an important first step, both toward hopefully making progress and more importantly fully enjoying our learning journey. If the words of Anand are anything to go by, we can also take solace from the fact that we are not alone in finding chess scary on occasion: ‘And then you sit at the board, and you’re in a state of… the word panic seems too weak, I would say more you are in a state of terror. Because almost every move scares the hell out of you, and you can’t understand how it seemed so lifeless back home.’
There is a real sense from this book that chess is a practical game which it isn’t sufficient merely to study. As Ben Johnson puts it, ‘There is something ineffable about the effect that tournament chess has on one’s brain.’ Ultimately, Johnson notes that the ‘level of seriousness [is] difficult to mimic at home’ and ‘hard lessons are rarely forgotten.’ Keith Arkell provides the best example of this in relation to his endgame play, telling Johnson that his approach is not so much based on detailed study as it is on ‘practical play, tried and true.’ Similarly, GM Noel Studer is quoted as saying that he had only ever read one endgame book, and he did not finish it. That said, we must also acknowledge the elephant in the room, in that talent also plays a part here.
The section on endings also highlights the importance of finding the right tools for your circumstances. Silman and Dvoretsky’s respective seminal endgame books are both discussed. As Johnson notes, often as a ‘reflex’ action stronger players will recommend Dvoretsky, but it’s far from an easy read. I could not help but laugh at FM Peter Giannotos’s observation that ‘I only actually have Dvoretsky’s Endgame Manual on my shelf to look cool when my friends come over. I’ve never actually read any of it.’
There are interesting passages on how to get the most from online chess, particularly for those who find getting to tournaments harder, and perceptive suggestions on managing the addiction to online blitz that most of us have to a greater or lesser degree. Ultimately ‘Speed chess is a bit like weightlifting. It is good for you if done properly, but if done improperly, you might just injure yourself.’ Greg Shahade suggests that for every blitz game we play, we should try and learn one additional move in the opening variation. There must be a lot in the observation that blitz games ‘will often serve as microcosms for your overall games.’ The retelling of the story of contender Alireza Firouzja playing an all-night blitz session in the middle of the 2022 Candidates’ tournament, which was ‘roundly criticised,’ is nicely done. However, while we might question Firouzja’s professionalism, I for one would certainly salute his love of the game!
In truth this is a book too rich in ideas for me to do much more than highlight a few elements of the narrative, and to encourage readers to get a copy. I can’t resist sharing one more story though, namely Ben Finegold explaining to Johnson how he came to have the prime seat next to Kasparov and Karpov when they were analysing after playing at Tilburg in 1991. Seeing that there were two analysis rooms which the two Ks might go to, Finegold trashed the first: ‘I threw all the pieces on the ground, and I closed the door.’ Then he went to the second, where there were only two chess sets. He hid one and sat next to the other. ‘Five minutes later Kasparov and Karpov walked in. They looked around, sat next to me to analyse, and about eight people followed them in.’ Truly, a grandmaster’s determination and ability to execute a plan ruthlessly is something that appears to extend well beyond the chess board!
As Johnson said, when it comes to chess improvement there is no such thing as a lone wolf. This book is the perfect companion for players on their journey to chess improvement.
Korchnoi Year by Year – Volume III (1981 – 1991) Hans Renette, Tibor Karolyi (Elk and Ruby)
‘It turned out that there was just one passion, chess…’
Readers may recall that we reviewed the first volume of this excellent series on Korchnoi in a previous column. Volume III is every bit as good as the two that precede it, and does a brilliant job of bringing to life one of the greatest and most complicated players the game has ever seen - a man who is destined to be remembered as an enigma, both at and away from the chess board.
1981 was the year of Korchnoi’s final title match against Karpov, but sadly, unlike the previous two encounters, this would turn out to be very one-sided affair. A despairing Michael Stean is quoted thus on Korchnoi’s reversal in game 4: ‘For the first time since I’ve been Viktor’s second… I wanted to stand up and say, “Stop! Let me play the rest of the game!” I felt everything was going wrong… A series of mistakes, and I felt so totally helpless. It is so sad, so baffling, so depressing. It’s as if someone had put something in his coffee. If Victor were a horse, he’d be dope-tested.’
Yet while for many great champions their final world championship defeat marks the beginning of a glide toward retirement, Korchnoi still had years of top-level chess ahead of him. Packed with 140 well-annotated games, lovely photographs and fascinating stories, Renette and Karolyi vividly tell the story of this intriguing decade in Korchnoi’s life.
Korchnoi’s desire to win remained undimmed. The authors highlight that when losing against Gerard Welling in 1982, Korchnoi’s offer of a draw was turned down ‘in a friendly tone… As a result, he was treated with a typical Korchnoi tirade, the grandmaster fulminating that Welling didn’t understand anything about the game… and who did he think he was to refuse Korchnoi’s offer.’ The game concluded with Korchnoi ‘chucking his pieces off the board’ and stealing Welling’s scoresheet. This did recall a memory I had of playing Korchnoi in a simul at the London Chess Classic (many years later), where the organisers told us before play started that were we by chance to win, on no account should we ask Korchnoi to sign anything!
None of this is ideal behaviour, and it would be foolish to pretend that Korchnoi was always an easy, or even a likeable person. Yet his sheer competitiveness, wherever the game, whatever the occasion, showed how much chess always mattered to him. We are far better off trying to understand the real Korchnoi, warts and all, as the authors undoubtedly do, rather than some sort of sanitised caricature of him.
Korchnoi’s great nemesis Karpov stalks the pages of this book like a ghost. In early 1986 ‘they could still be seen ignoring each other in Vienna.’ Yet at the Interpolis tournament later that year Karpov, Korchnoi, Ljubo and Miles played a quiet game of bridge together, where the foes conversed in English (but only on the game.) The authors highlight a reporter announcing the fact in ‘hushed tones’ in the tournament bar. ‘Even Frans Peelan, who in a decade as a bartender has seen and heard it all, raised his eyebrows.’ Joint analysis sessions followed between the pair. Yet ultimately a further mellowing took time, and Korchnoi celebrated when Kasparov retained the World Championship title against Karpov in 1986, observing of his foe that Karpov was ‘a notorious thief, an absolute nothing as a chess player and a human being.’ So, it is fair to say that a degree of bitterness still lingered.
I saw intriguing parallels between Karpov and Korchnoi playing bridge and Kasparov recounting in Child of Change how he had also played cards against Karpov at the height of Kasparov’s and Karpov’s own struggles for chess supremacy. Perhaps if a particular human being is the one person who stands between you and achieving your lifegoals, true friendship is unlikely. Yet I would like to think that Korchnoi ultimately recognised the key part that he and Karpov played in each other’s life stories - just as ultimately Kasparov and Karpov also did, even if it appears that their rapprochement went further still than that between Korchnoi and Karpov. I have no doubt that Renette and Karolyi’s work will come to be seen as the definitive word on perhaps the greatest player to never become World Champion. Frankly, the only reason why you might not want to read this book right now is if you are yet to read volumes I and II and want to enjoy the full experience in chronological order. I very much hope that there will be a volume IV.