Saturday, May 18, 2013

A Literary Reference : The Quiet American


I found Mr Chou's godown and mounted to Mr Chou's house. Nothing had changed since my last visit. The cat and the dog moved from floor to cardboard box to suitcase, like a couple of chess knights who cannot get to grips.

Graham Greene, The Quiet American, Penguin, 1967, p.170. (Original date of publication 1955.)

[A Literary Reference index]

Friday, May 17, 2013

My Light Shines On


This popped up on Mrs LondonLeagueSecondTeamCaptain's facebook page last Saturday morning. Rather timely, I thought.  I was, after all, just about to head off to play in my very first Golders Green Open.

The GG u-170 had very much become my comfort zone. After a rather miserable start - in January's first round I contrived to lose to a nipper by simply leaving a pawn en prise (in an IFE too, for shame) - I have, entirely uncharacteristically, managed to put together some consistent results in 2013. I finished equal second in the first tournament of the year followed by equal third in February, equal second again in March and second place on my own in April.

In truth, that's a little misleading. With the possible of exception of February, I was never in any danger of actually winning the event and one or two of the games I ended up winning could easily have gone the other way. Nevertheless, ending up towards the top of the table had ceased to be a surprise and for the most part I got there by playing most of my games either against the highest-rated players in the section or those who'd scored the most points.

So, what to do next?

Carry on? Try to actually win the thing? Stay in a section where I was notching up four wins for every defeat?

There's nothing wrong with that sort of thing if that's what you want to do, it's just that it wasn't what I wanted to do. The longer this sequence of reasonable finishes went on, I thought, the harder it would be to give up. It seemed my grade might well get pushed over the cut-off point in the next list anyway. If I aspired to improve enough to move on up a section - which I did (and do) - making the jump sooner rather than later seemed preferable. Before I got too comfortable.

So I entered the Open. Previous winners: Peter Roberson (ECF 221), John Richardson (218) and Alex Cherniaev (241). Daunting, but it's where the magic happens, right?




'Magic' turned out to be me getting my arse kicked.

By lunchtime I was on 0/3. As many in losses in one morning as in my previous 23 games at the tournament put together. For this I paid £20?

OK, I turned things around somewhat in the afternoon. Chessically speaking, though, in no way can the tournament be deemed a success. Still, getting walloped like that wasn't the end of the world and, taking a wider view I think it was actually worth doing.

Breaking the habits of a life time it might be, but I'm prepared to see this glass as 50% full rather than half way to empty. I'll be back for more in June. While I'm at it, I think I'll play in the Open that's part of the Kings Place Chess Festival too.








Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Unhappy ending


Run that one by me again.
Some well-placed observers have long been convinced that that was the regime's endgame, and even that the Russians would be in favour, envisaging the same kind of relationship with such an entity as the Americans have with Israel.
So says BBC correspondent Jim Muir, in a passage which suggested to this particular reader either that he had omitted an adjective, or that he doesn't know what an endgame actually is.

I've noticed the term endgame cropping up in journalism over the past couple of years, generally (though not always) in foreign affairs coverage and generally (though again, not always) in the reporting of armed conflicts. I seem to recall particularly noticing the term during the Libyan civil war and it's certainly the case that a Google search for endgame libya guardian.co.uk gets you a variety of examples. We have, for instance,
1. We've had a few commenters asking about the "endgame" now the intervention has taken place
2. A messy endgame approaches
3. Gaddafi's driver on the endgame
4. Libya war reaches endgame with 100 loyalists left fighting
5. Libya: battle for Sirte reaches endgame
6. Endgame in Libya: how the world called time on Gaddafi
Then there's this in which the term makes it into the URL if not actually the text. Also, for variety, mention is made of a CNN correspondent using the term but rendering it "end game" instead. As did Middle East expert Juan Cole:


a little learning, Professor Cole, is a dangerous thing.

That was 2011. I happened to come across three examples in February the followng year. There was
the endgame for Greece is supposed to be that it gradually weans itself off support from official sources and returns to the capital markets
as well as, also on the subject of Greece:


Ho very ho.

As chess metaphors go it's not too bad, particularly given the normal standards of the genre. It does at least identify the endgame (but not "end game") as the final stage of an encounter, although it seems to me to identify that endgame as a relatively short affair - whereas, as we know, it is very often the longest phase of the game. But it's all right as these things go.

Not sure about this though:
There is an endgame to this sort of abuse, and it's to make people disappear
This isn't right, is it? There is something awkward, clumsy, not-quite-right about it, as there is with the example cited at the top of this column. I think it is the same thing in each case - it seems to characterise "endgame" as a particular state of affairs which a given party is attempting to bring about.

But it isn't. The endgame is simply a phase of the game, like, say, extra time. To use the noun as it is being used in these examples you would have to qualify it in some way, to attach some appropriate adjective. But neither of these examples does so, giving the impression that the term is being misused, that it is being employed without the writer understanding what it means. (You might also say the same about our example above which refers to "the endgame for Greece".)

Maybe this is bound to happen when a term suddenly enters into mainstream journalistic language from a particular, obscure and technical area of activity, but being inevitable does not prevent it from being irksome. Being interested both in chess and my native language, and - you may feel - having nothing more useful to do with my time, I put it to Mr Muir that he was using a term without knowing what he meant by it.

We had something of a false start:


but once we both clarified that we were not talking of offence, nor headlines, nor this piece (and the fact that the term has cropped up in three recent pieces is perhaps evidence of its overuse) Mr Muir was kind enough to discuss it with me.

He argued that words do evolve beyond their original meaning, which of course is true - that's a normal process, by which a word is unshackled from its precise origins, which process allows it to be reinterpreted. He also said, in a phrase interesting enough that I take the liberty of quoting directly from his email, that there has been
a need for a word to cover the idea of a given party's strategy for the final decisive phase of a particular struggle.
Is that true? I confess that I can't immediately think of an alternative (but it is late and I am tired). It does however occur to me that conflicts have been written about since at least Herodotus and in recognisable English for at least half a millennium and it's not clear to me why that need would not have arisen before.

The other point to be made here usually involves the invocation of Humpty Dumpty and I would be loth to disappoint:

what I think is that language does necessarily change, not always logically, and what may seem an incorrect usage today may be current, accepted and in your dictionary tomorrow (in which case, presumably all the people who were wrong are retrospectively right).

Nevertheless to employ a metaphor one needs to think reasonably clearly about its actual meaning. When goalposts are claimed to have been moved, for instance, we are aware that there has been an aim, a target, an objective, which has been altered. So with an endgame: even if a new term is required, as Mr Muir is arguing, I am far from sure that the simple, standalone, unqualified "endgame" does the job. Before the endgame, Tarrasch wrote, the gods have placed the middlegame - and before the noun, the gods have often placed an adjective. "Preferred endgame" might be a preferable choice.

But of course, if people choose to use "endgame" in this new and irksome way, then it will indeed become proper usage and it will be one of these things, like the capitalisation of T in terms like "the Oval", which irks me often.

Still, there are those who take their terminology from chess yet know whereof they speak. It is almost a pleasure to come across "endgame" with a qualification that allows it to make sense.

 
Say what you like about Ken Rogoff, at least he knows what an endgame is.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Sixty Memorable Annotations

#17: Alekhine - Capablanca, Buenos Aires World Championship 1927


White to play


The tablebase tells us the fastest win starts with 82 Rg7, from a human point of view of course 82 Re7 is much more sensible, preventing the Black king from joining the action.

Jonathan Hawkins, Amateur to IM (Mongoose Press, 2012)


Nalimov tablebases, God I love them. That six-piece tablebases are freely available to anybody with a 'pooter and an internet connection has got to be the greatest learning tool of the century. For those of us who are trying to hack our way through the mysteries of rook and pawn endings, anyway.

It took me a while to work out how best to use them, though. Their cast-iron certainty can, paradoxically, mess with your understanding if you're not careful.

So you've got a choice between Rg7 (which leads to mate in 24) and Re7 (mate in 29). Does that mean the first move is better? In a sense, yes, but knowing which move leads to the quickest win doesn't necessarily mean you've grasped the essential logic of a position.

Drawn positions are even worse. That's where you have to be really careful with Nalimov, I think.



The look of a man who reckons he's better than any tablebase


So let's take another look at Aronian - Carlsen, Moscow 2006 (see Purposeful Shuffling from a couple of weeks back and its predecessor Random Rook Endings VII). A rook ending that should have been drawn but which our teenage Future World Champion managed to lose.

At what point does that half-point go adrift?


28 ... a5



36 ... h4



43 ... Rb5+



51 ... Rb1



60 ... Kf8



67 ... Kf8



69 ... Ra1



72 ... Ra8



73 ... Ra7+



74 ... resigns

Nalimov isn't - yet - any help in the first couple of positions and while Angus tells me that seven-piece tablebases have now been created they're not yet available online so we can forget the next three as well. From move 69 onwards, though, we can be absolutely sure. Check it and you'll see that it was only after Black's very last move, the awful 73 ... Ra7+, that the position becomes winning for White.

So it's whilst it's true to say, as a kibitzer at chessgames.com does, that

Neither of the players left the drawing path until 73...Ra7+ ....

it's misleading. What you could never find out if you rely solely on a tablebase, is that in no way was Carlsen's first mistake that losing final move.

There are paths and there are paths aren't there? The one Carlsen chose took him close to the edge of a cliff. From there it only took one slip and he tumbled over.

Nalimov might tell you it makes no difference, that one draw is as good as any other. For a human, though, it's obviously best to stay as far away from the precipice as we can. We'll come back to this next week.



Sixty Memorable Annotations Index
Rook and pawn Index





Saturday, May 11, 2013

Cover version encore: Zalai / Bartók


Antal Zalai and József Balog, Bartók: Complete Works for Violin.
Volume 3: Violin sonatas and rhapsodies (Brilliant Classics, 2013)

[Previous Zalai/Bartók]
[Cover version index]
[Thanks to Richard James]

Friday, May 10, 2013

One of the privileged few

He was one of the privileged few to witness the celebrated 1858 match between Adolf Anderssen and Paul Morphy

Ray Keene on James Mortimer, The Spectator, 30 March 2013
He was one of the privileged few who witnessed the famous Anderssen-Morphy match

Jeremy P Spinrad on James Mortimer, Chess Café, 21 February 2006

Wednesday, May 08, 2013

Press freedom


So wrote Ray Keene in the Spectator, 20 March 2013.

Pop quiz: can anybody remember what role was played, during the World Championship match of 2000, in the history of suppression of press freedom in the UK, by the chessplayer, writer, editor and irrepressible optimist Ray Keene?

[Ray Keene index]
[More on this on Friday]