The Q & A Way
by Bruce Pandolfini

Books, Books and More Books

Question I play in a chess club in Prague with players
rated between 1600 and 1800.  I usually play 1.e4 with
White, and my opponents often choose to play the
Sicilian.  Although I know the first 5 or 6 "typical" moves
in this opening, I'm not familiar with the strategic
themes.  I know it's an attacking defense.  I see that
Black usually has the open c-file and attacks on that side
of the board, while white develops quickly and attacks on
the opposite side.  But otherwise I'm pretty much making
it up as I go.

Can you recommend a basic book on the Sicilian targeted
at amateur level players like myself?  Preferably one with
fewer variations and more discussion of general themes
and strategies. (Patrick Pray, Czech Republic)

Answer Surely, there are a number of books, as well as
chapters within books, that might help, in that they lay
out Sicilian themes fairly clearly. Nonetheless, the bulk
of books on the Sicilian Defense are narrow in scope,
tending to treat specific variations. 

You might try a different strategy at first. Rather than
turning to a single book or two, create a storehouse of
well-annotated Sicilians from magazines and game
collections. Try to accumulate between fifty and one
hundred such games, and then play through them very
carefully. After doing this you should come away with
some discernment for the Sicilian's characteristics. You'll
know which variations you find appealing, and you can
track down related material if so desired. 

But if books are what you want, here are two. Start with
Nikolai Minev's monograph The Sicilian Defense: The Last
Decade. It contains short games, organized by variation,
typically concluding in tactical forays, and analyzed by
one of the best presenters of didactic information in the
world. If you don't mind increasing the workload, you
should also sample the riches of grandmaster Lev
Polugaevsky's classic Sicilian Labyrinth, in two volumes,
published by Pergamon Press. There's no way you can get
through Polugaevsky's brilliant notes and observations
without understanding a great deal about the Sicilian in
particular, and chess in general.

Two other things you could do. After determining which
lines of the Sicilian engage you, try practicing them
against a computer. You'll probably get a better sense for
what these variations are like. Such practice should also
help you navigate through these lines when encountered
in actual over-the-board play. Finally, you might benefit
from a few sessions with a competent player or teacher,
where he or she could give you an overview of the subject
to propel you on your way. 

Question I'm a Life Master who doesn't play much
anymore (US Amateur Team mostly). It seems every time
I stage a comeback of sorts I try studying tactics,
strategy, openings, etc. I quickly hit a point where I seem
to review information I had known and seen before.  It
seems most new literature is just a review of concepts,
games gone before. Of course players like Shirov,
Kasparov, Akopian and others and their games are fun to
play over and have good content. I have a small notebook
to keep key information - probably should be larger - so
the basic information can be quickly reviewed.

The question I have is: The knowledge acquisition process seems
almost haphazard beyond a certain level and OTB play becomes
almost a practice exercise of precise and exact execution with
rather minimal new knowledge being added but rather a tuning of
what is incorporated - so where does someone like myself turn?
The main alternatives seem to be intense analysis of annotated
games, play tournaments with stronger players or get a tutor.  I've
actually tried all these, it seems intense analysis of annotated
games seems to yield the best increase in new knowledge - but it is
labor intensive. (I consider the review and analysis of ones own
tournament games, which should be done for every tournament
game, as prerequisite for improvement. Games should be
objectively reviewed for concepts, plans, mistakes, cool tactics,
mental frame of mind and should be noted etc.) What are your
thoughts? (Paul Fielding, USA)

Answer I wish I could advise you, for then I could advise myself
(I, too, keep a little pocket notebook). If I had to recommend
something, however, I'd suggest turning to a powerful player,
someone of at least IM strength, who also has a friendly demeanor
and a supportive personality. (You may have done this already, but
I still think it's the best way to go.) Get him or her to analyze your
play, not so much by looking at past games, but rather by
playing serious training games with you, to witness firsthand what
you are really like as a competitor. The two of you should then tear
these games analytically apart, trying to understand your strengths,
problems, tendencies, and needs.  

Approach it in the same spirit that Euwe and Meiden did in those
terrific collaborative books they put together (Chess Master vs.
Chess Amateur among others). Even if this method has failed you
before, it remains one of the most effective ways for a master to
improve his play. But I have to believe you're already on top of the
process. You're obviously versed on how to study chess
reasonably well, for one doesn't become a Life Master without
knowing a little something about this game. 

Question I am a chess teacher working in the public school system
of a large metropolitan area. I am constantly going into classroom
situations in which I am not familiar with the students or their
abilities. A big problem for me is how to get control of these
classes so that the kids will listen and I can accomplish something.
I often find myself talking in a vacuum. Do you have any advice? 
(Randy Morrison, USA)

Answer Chess classes given in public school systems usually are
overseen by two people: a chess instructor and a licensed school
teacher (there tends to be two adults even when the chess
instructor is also licensed). If this is your situation, I suggest that
you try working with the other teacher, to handle the class
effectively and to learn about the students quickly.  There is
nothing wrong with utilizing your assets, and an experienced
classroom teacher can be a great asset.

But whether or not you work with another teacher, and regardless
of whether you yourself are licensed, in my opinion the best thing
a teacher can do to gain control of a class is to learn and use the
names of the students as soon as possible. This is the seasoned
teacher's secret. By repeatedly using the names of the students,
right from the start, the teacher actually masters who each student
is straightaway. The usage and repetition also forces a class to stay
alert   even a chess class   which provides the teacher a means to
assume control.

It's natural to shy away from saying the names too hastily, to avoid
making embarrassing mistakes. But it's better to bungle in the first
session or two, rather than weeks into the course, when such errors
might be much more injurious to a youngster's fragile ego. If you
have trepidation, you could soften the negative impact of such
miscues ahead of time by making a game of it from the beginning.
For example, in the very first session, you might try calling on
students while looking away from them, say, with your back to the
class, or even while staring at another student, as if focused on the
wrong one. Then, with a friendly smile, suddenly turn and look at
the right student. Don't be surprised if they are. It's your insurance
against future slips, since thereafter the class will never really be
sure whether you've made a mistake or merely injected another
one of your playful tricks. They'll have to give you the benefit of
the doubt, and this should strengthen your ability to direct the
class.
 
To students, practically nothing seems worse than a teacher who
doesn't know who they are, and probably nothing lifts them higher
than a teacher who shows real interest. I'm not saying all this
name-calling will make you a Jean Brodie, but it should facilitate
greater control while making everyone feel more comfortable.
Then you can really teach chess.

Question In your formative years of playing chess, which
books influenced your chess skills? (Barbara
Spannheimer, USA)

Answer:  This is hard to say, for initially I liked almost
every chess book I opened, so practically all of them
influenced me to play chess. It would be hard to allege
that any of them induced me to teach chess, however,
for prior to the recent epoch no one ever wrote a book
about the wonders of tutoring the game, and the notion
never occurred to me. As a profession, chess teaching
didn't exist before the 1972 Fischer-Spassky Match (the
few who did teach the game for a "living" barely scraped
by).

I had no idea that chess books existed when as an
adolescent I first came upon them at a branch of the
Brooklyn Public Library. What serendipity. Each one was a
treasure trove. It seemed that their diagrams were art
and their stories about famous players were literature. 
With something like thirty volumes to choose from, I
couldn't decide which to read first. So I made a plan. I
decided to take them all out. But somehow the library's
limit per visit would have to be circumvented, which
meant returning a number of times in order to clear out
the entire shelf. This is what happened, and for the next
month I stayed home from school and did nothing but
devour the world of chess.
 
In those days the diversity of chess books wasn't as
great as it is now. Many of the books then were written
by either Fred Reinfeld, Irving Chernev, I.A. Horowitz,
Edward Lasker, Eugene Znosko-Borovsky, or Reuben Fine.
There were books by other authors, of course, but this
group (at least at my library) dominated, and virtually
none of the books published in that period were in
algebraic notation. I think there were one or two by
Milton Hanauer, which weren't bad, but everything else
was in descriptive notation.

If I remember correctly (in Gore Vidal's Palimpsest, he
suggests that it's not so important what really happened,
but what we think did), I was particularly fond of several
books in the beginning, though to what extent these
titles affected the development of my game I can't say.
Nothing, not even a book, can account for the woeful
state of my play. 

If memory serves me, Irving Chernev's Winning Chess
Traps was one of the first books that caught my
attention. (I'm going to talk about all of these volumes in
the past tense, for I'm not sure which are still in print.)
It was a collection of 300 opening shots, arranged one
per page, with some underlying analysis of key variations.
I liked the format of offering just one trap on every
page, and even though some of the traps were dubious,
most had instructional value and were great for building
confidence, especially if given the chance to use them in
chessic combat (I think I got to win one or two games
this way). 

I also liked Milton Finkelstein's Self-Taught Chess. This
book was a smartly organized collection of games, with
material arranged for easy scanning. There were well-
defined themes, highlighted principles, instructional
comments, and plenty of inspiring words. Mr. Finkelstein
was a real teacher (actually a public school principal), and
he was able to package all his experience and craft at
teaching, as well as his zeal for the game, into a splendid
textbook. I believe he also produced a number of
successful high school texts, in different subjects, so he
was versed in methods to convey information. 

People always ask me what I think constitutes a good
instructional book. Of course, there is no obvious answer
here. It goes without saying that the information should
be correct and useful, but also important is the
presentation, especially in today's world of fast pace and
overload. Even books concealing great thoughts may be
discarded if their pages can't be scanned for content.
Who wants to spend all day - who has all day - to size up
what's there? 

Purists will counter that such considerations are trivial,
and that sincere students should be concerned only with
the author's ideas. But this is patently ridiculous. If we're
talking about an original scientific paper, a profound
philosophical treatise, an innovative work on chess
openings, a collection of award-winning endgame studies,
or any equivalent intellectual production, then
presentation clearly takes a back seat. But these are
written for the enlightened. If we're talking about an
instructional book, however, one presumably written for a
wide audience, then presentation becomes critical. An
author can't claim to be desirous of reaching the public if
he doesn't make his product understandable and usable.
Rather it suggests that the worth of his material is
comparable to that of his presentation, and accordingly
the potential reader is advised to turn elsewhere. 

A small book I remember relishing was Fred Reinfeld's
Chess Mastery by Question and Answer. This was a
terrific read, and I played through the games and their
questions and answers with great excitement. Reinfeld
had a way of adding drama to the analysis of a chess
game, and he could truly make the personalities of the
chess masters come alive. The book I think he does this
the best in was the Human Side of Chess, which I still
consider to be one of the finest chess books ever
written. His descriptions of players and events were
exhilarating.  He even made Vidmar seem exciting.
(Maroczy I could see, but not Vidmar.) 

Serious chessplayers tend to put Reinfeld down, saying
that he was a "weak player," who wrote books mainly for
beginners and inexpert players, which isn't true, nor is it
so terrible. (It always gets me how some ordinary
chessplayers will classify masters, and even
grandmasters, as being "weak.") 

Reinfeld wasn't a bad player at all. Years ago, when I was
an assistant to Reuben Fine, I asked him about his
collaboration with Reinfeld on a book of Emanual Lasker's
games that I happened to admire. Fine confessed that he
knew Reinfeld was a fairly strong master who, on a given
day, could beat anyone. Moreover, though he felt that a
few of Reinfeld's introductory books were of
questionable value, and that some of his comments were
cursory ("Castles Queenside!"), Fine also believed that
Reinfeld had greatly benefited chess by characterizing it
as noble, glorious, and uplifting to the human spirit. Fine
had to admit, which wasn't easy for him to do, considering
his own place in the chess pantheon, that Reinfeld's
oeurve had inspired thousands, if not millions, of people
to play chess.

During those early years I was also impressed by Larry
Evans's New Ideas in Chess, which I still think is a first-
rate chess book. From its layout, to its organization, to
its examples, to its overall philosophy, I found it to be a
gem. My tattered copy, signed by Evans, remains one of
my most prized possessions. (At his height, Larry Evans,
like Yasser Seirawan during the past decade, was
probably America's top chess professional, in that he
excelled at most aspects of chess professionalism,
including as a player, writer, journalist, teacher, and
performer.)
 
In no special order, these five or so were the first books
that really garnered my attention, but as I got more into
the game, others (also in no memorable sequence) became
consequential to me, including Jose Capablanca's Last
Lectures, Chess Fundamentals, and My Chess Career,
Emanual Lasker's Manual of Chess, Dr. Siegbert
Tarrasch's The Game of Chess, Hans Kmoch's Pawn Power
in Chess, Alexander Alekhine's My Best Games of Chess
(both volumes), Mikhail Botvinnik's 100 Selected Games
and Absolute Championship of the Soviet Union, Aron
Nimzovich's My System and Chess Praxis,  of course
MCO, and last, but not truly last, Bobby Fischer's My 60
Memorable Games. 

I can't say that any of these books in particular made a
profound mark on my understanding of the game. Perhaps
they all did, about equally, but whatever their
contribution to my playing skill, as feeble as it may be,
they did afford me untold hours of diversion and
pleasure. I wish I could experience all that once more,
reading each one again as if it were the first time. I
can't. But what I can do is take a poll. Readers are invited
to submit their own list of favorite chess books to the Q
& A column.  The results will be tallied and published
sometime in the future, along with any neat or relevant
comments.
