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Book Reviews by John
Watson

John Watson - Photo © Jonathan
Berry
#64 Once More into the
Breach 
Garry
Kasparov on My Great Predecessors Part II; Garry Kasparov ('with the
participation of Dmitry Plisetsky'); 478 pages; Everyman 2003
This
review was written some time ago and by now the book in question has been
extensively commented upon by many fine reviewers. Nevertheless, I feel that
'Garry Kasparov on My Great Predecessors Part II' can do with some further
examination. In this volume, Kasparov investigates the careers of World
Champions Max Euwe (1935-1937), Mikhail Botvinnik (1948-1957, 1958-1960 and
1961-1963), Vasily Smyslov (1957-1958), and Mikhail Tal (1960-1961). Overall,
the book strikes me in much the same way as Part 1 (with some important
exceptions, as shown below). Again, Dmitry Plisetsky, who doesn't even appear
on the cover or in the Introduction, seems to have done most of the work. For
example, he has apparently written the many historical accounts that define the
book and he almost certainly collected the games that were used, probably
together with the existing notes to them. As the chief researcher, one can also
assume that he was responsible for one of the most intriguing parts of this
work: the abundance of quotations from great players. These are spread
throughout each chapter, giving the World Champions' opinions and observations
about each other's styles and play, as well as comments about other players
under discussion, notably Keres, Bronstein, and Geller. We even find some
Champions' critiques of themselves. Their commentary and that by other analysts
often provide the majority of the verbal notes to games, with Kasparov
providing the rest. Every section ends with a fascinating string of reflections
by great players. All of this entertains us and greatly enriches the book. The
analysis of moves themselves also contains much input by the participants and
other analysts; here of course Kasparov himself has the final say and provides
the bulk of the important and original work. As in the previous volume, any
pretence to scholarship goes out the window when no specific source is given
for the great majority of quotations or the books from which analysis is drawn.
I hope that this fault can be righted in volumes to come.
Kasparov's
introductions and notes to the games include some of his own thoughts on
various topics including his assessments of why a certain player prevailed or
lost, with some very interesting but too brief discussion of the evolution of
chess. He again provides us with sweeping theories, sometimes rather absurd.
For example, he has a discussion of the champions' contributions to opening
theory, by which contributions he strangely seems to assess and define each
great era of chess thought. In the midst of describing the progress of chess he
says, 'Smyslov, Tal, Petrosian, and Spassky did not achieve any radical
progress in the opening and developed theory along the lines of Botvinnik'. He
describes Fischer as creating 'the next evolutionary leap'; Fischer 'sharply
expand[ed] the range of openings studied'. To me, this is a very odd
characterization of the player who had the narrowest repertoire of these five.
Then he says, 'Note what an interesting line can be traced: Steinitz (1st
champion) Botvinnik (6th) Fischer (11th), that is, a revolution
accomplished by every 5th champion!' Needless to say, a trend based upon a
sample space of two intervals is hardly compelling. Kasparov, by the way, was
the 13th champion; we'll see what this means when we get to the final volume.
Apart from the games themselves, the book sticks mainly to the
recitation of events. That in itself can be fascinating and inspiring for
players who have never absorbed much of the history of chess. Among other
discoveries, for example, I certainly learned about or was reminded of
fascinating material regarding the Interzonals and Candidates tournaments
matches. Still, we welcome the great exception to such mere recitation when
Kasparov discusses Botvinnik. At the end of the chapter devoted to the latter
there are no less than 7 pages of discussion by Kasparov about his great
teacher. Based upon personal experience, he provides numerous insights, both
positive and critical, into the various sides of Botvinnik's personality. One
surprising point (claim?) that Kasparov makes is, 'I am the only genuine pupil
of Botvinnik. On the whole he met the others only at training sessions, whereas
he had regular and close contact with me for a full 14 years.' I should mention
that in this excellent section Kasparov is assisted and uses material by
Sosonko, without attributing much of it (which is all too typical of this
book). The personal touch with regard to Botvinnik bodes well for future
volumes, since we have Petrosian, Spassky, and Karpov ahead of us. And the
section on Fischer should be extremely interesting regardless.
As in
Part 1, the descriptions of players' styles are very similar to the stereotypes
invariably presented in the rest of chess literature, often using the very same
phrases and descriptors. Maybe that's all there is to be said, and obviously
those stereotypes exist for a very good reason, i.e., they must reflect the
most characteristic aspects of a player's overall style and personality. But I
find it inconceivable that a player of Kasparov's chess intelligence couldn't
with some effort have discovered anything subtle or interesting in the shades
of stylistic differences, or strengths and weaknesses of these players that are
not often noted. One thinks of Robert Hübner, who takes his conclusions
about champions (however overcritical I find them) from a careful study of the
players' own games and commentary; his results repeatedly challenge
conventional views and reveal subtle tendencies that the players exhibit.
Before moving on to the redeeming quality of the book its
analysis of the classics I want to register a very strong criticism
about the choice of material. Yes, one can always complain about what should or
shouldn't have been included, and normally that would be purely a matter of
taste. Mig Greengard whines about people who engage in this exercise and say
that they should write their own book (so much for the world's leading review
publications!). Nevertheless, as my friend John Tomas pointed out, the book is
'essentially only a history of USSR chess (with the exception of Euwe)', noting
out that Fine disappears from the 1930s (he's not even in the Index!), and
Reshevsky is almost completely ignored. These are two of the most egregious
examples of bias against Western players. To demonstrate Kasparov's prejudices,
I'll examine those two in detail.
For starters, consider the 37 pages
on Geller. He was of course an important and great player, but to get an idea
of his strength in world chess, let's look at Jeff Sonas' figures on his
historical ratings and rankings. Sonas has calculated yearly estimated ratings
for every player back into the 19th century, helped of course by modern FIDE
ratings. For 1950-59, he uses two ratings per year, and from 1960 onward he
splits the year into 4 parts. This leads to a list of world rankings for each
year. I will count players as having achieved their top ranking whether it was
for the whole year or fraction of one. These figures yield the following
information about Geller. He was ranked 3rd in the world only once (in 1963),
4th two times, and 5th once. Geller was in the top 10 for at least part of 16
years, but he was typically 8-10th in his prime, for example, he was ranked
10th in one part of the year seven times, and similarly ranked 9th seven
times and 8th eight times. He had a historical rating of 2700 or above for only
1¾ years.
Now referring to those same rankings, we find that
Reshevsky was in the top 10 for no less than 24 years. He ended the year in
ranked 1st in the world twice, was ranked 2nd three times, was 3rd-highest
ranked in the world in 11 different years, and held 4th place five times! He
spent 13 years at 2700 or above. Nor can his record be denigrated as a product
of less important tournaments. In the second half of the 1930s alone (the
period covered most by the two Predecessors volumes put together), Reshevsky
took clear first in Margate 1935 ahead of Capablanca, won strong U.S.
Championships in 1936 and 1938 (and of course many of them later), finished
equal 3rd in the famous Nottingham 1936 tournament, shared first place at
Kemeri 1937, and won Hastings 1937-8. This represented his golden era, but
Reshevsky remained one of the world's elite throughout the 1940s and much of
the 1950s. For example, he tied 2-4 in the famous 1953 Zurich Interzonal World
Championship qualifier and in the U.S.-U.S.S.R. match of 1955 Reshevsky (on
board one) won his 4-game mini-match versus Botvinnik 2.5-1.5. The rest of the
U.S. team scored a miserable 4.5-23.5! Reshevsky closed out his career at a
level that reminds one of Smyslov or Korchnoi. For example, he qualified for
the 1964 Amsterdam Interzonal at age 52 and at age 55 won 6-8th place in the
1967 Sousse Interzonal, thus earning a spot in the Candidates. He qualified for
and played in two more Interzonals, including Portoroz 1973 at the age of 61.
Reshevsky was still a strong player going into the 1980s, and just months
before reaching age 70 he achieved a 3-way tie for first in the 1981 US
Championship, a Zonal Tournament. He then failed to qualify in the playoff that
followed due to inferior tiebreaks!
This is surely the best record of
any player who never played in a title match. Only Keres comes close. Reshevsky
was certainly as talented as any great player apart from a few World Champions.
And while he was not an expert in ultra-theoretical openings (nor was
Capablanca or Petrosian), he found an amazing number of new moves and
treatments in more positional openings, most obviously Queen's Gambits of
nearly every stripe, Nimzo Indians, Gruenfelds, Sicilians, and Double King Pawn
openings. A look at the index of his games collection (compiled by Steve
Gordon; McFarland 1997) reveals that he played nearly every major opening,
including risky ones I estimate that well over 80% of the 500 ECO codes
are represented. Reshevsky also greatly enriched the game by his brilliant
methods of gaining and extending middlegame advantages (much as Karpov did) and
producing amazing defensive ideas in difficult positions. Yet Kasparov not only
denies Reshevsky a section in his book, he essentially ignores him. Reshevsky
is 'represented' in Predecessors 2 by 4 losses to Soviets. Outside of
those games (in the notes to which he isn't given much attention), I can only
find references to Reshevsky consisting of 7 partial-sentence mentions and a
paragraph about his blitz match versus Smyslov at age 80 a total of
perhaps ¼ of a page! Compare this with Geller's 37 page section of the
book (and more games outside of that section); it's hard not to infer a serious
bias towards the Soviets on the part of Kasparov.
[See the end of this
review for some feedback from Kasparov about his later change of the material
in Predecessors and other interesting commentary regarding this issue.]
One might propose that this just a case of extreme favoritism towards
Geller. Clearly not, because other Soviet players get similar treatment.
Bronstein is accorded his own section of 29 pages, quite apart from the
24-page exposition of his match with Botvinnik! Bronstein was a great player of
course, but he was never ranked first in the world, and he got as high as 3rd
only three times (during a period that chess at the top was relatively weak,
according to Kasparov), 4th place five times, and 5th three times. He was in
the top 10 for only eleven years. Yes, Bronstein played a World Championship
match (Reshevsky had a lesser opportunity in the 1948 Championship tournament).
But Bronstein himself says in his book that his good friend Boleslavsky agreed
to take draws in the last two rounds of the Candidates Tournament to allow
Bronstein a chance to catch up to him. As indicated above, his subsequent match
with Botvinnik is itself more than adequately covered by Kasparov.
The
extremely lopsided treatment accorded these players cannot be just a matter of
taste; it reflects a prejudice towards Kasparov's predecessors in the West.
Another example is Keres, who was of comparable strength to Reshevsky yet
receives his own section of 26 pages (with more game material elsewhere).
Admittedly Keres was a much more successful player than Geller or Bronstein,
but his detailed treatment invites comparison with Reshevsky and others. Reuben
Fine was another famous player from the United States. How much attention does
Fine get from Kasparov? Quite simply, none at all; there isn't a single game by
him in Predecessors 2! How can this be? Kasparov's bias in favour of the
Soviets is again evident. One could try to argue that Fine's career wasn't long
enough, but his total exclusion is nevertheless incredible. After all, Fine was
either the #1 or #2 player in the world for 4 of the 5 years between 1936 and
1941. Among other tournaments, he won Hastings 1935/36, tied for first in
Amsterdam, and came in 3rd at the famous 1936 Nottingham tournament. He won
Zandvoort 1936 (a point ahead of Euwe and two ahead of Keres), Leningrad and
Ostende in 1937, Margate 1937, and of course finished 1st with Keres at the
famous AVRO 1938 tournament (ahead of Botvinnik, Euwe, Alekhine and
Capablanca). At the 1937 Stockholm Olympiad he played behind Reshevsky but got
the best score on 2nd board and led the U.S. team to victory. On a theoretical
level, he contributed opening ideas that broke new ground and he wrote one of,
if not the, greatest endgame books to appear up to that time. Would a Soviet
player who was ranked #1 in the world, sporting such a record and reputation,
escape Kasparov's notice? Of course not, and you will hardly be surprised by
now that the super-grandmaster Najdorf is granted only 2 losses and a sentence
or two. And there are further snubs, e.g., I haven't even mentioned Eastern
European players.
What I've said so far is mostly critical of
Predecessors, but others have been more withering in their recitation of
specific inaccuracies, poor analysis, and biases. Plisetsky and Kasparov
apparently continue to attribute analytical contributions to Soviet chess
analysts although they were prominently featured elsewhere. The book's
advocates generally use the defence that all that is unimportant and beside the
point. Matthew Sadler says, and Jan Timman tends to agree (his words), that one
can discount historical and analytical errors by comparison with an error-free
work by a lesser grandmaster "because it's Garry!" I don't think that's even
useful to say until we see how a quality chess writer would do given more time
and care than Kasparov has expended. But that's a matter of speculation. They
are certainly right that a Kasparov can give us insights that few other players
in the world can. That is extremely valuable for our understanding of chess,
and in itself makes this an important work. However, the continual use of
ultra-famous games (some of the match games are an exception) wastes another
opportunity for originality. Mig Greengard, for example, fumes about the
critics, arguing that the recitation of standard history and too-familiar games
serves the majority of the chess community who are ignorant of such material.
To prove his point, he travels to a Barnes and Noble bookstore (this is a
nationwide chain store in the United States) and finds only a few books that
deal with chess history. Fair enough. But this raises the question of whether
Predecessors 2 is a classic of chess literature (as has been claimed
more than once), or a book to fill the needs of Barnes and Noble customers,
quite a different matter. In my review of Predecessors 1, I tried to
draw the distinction between a book that absorbs and entertains us, a valuable
thing in and of itself, and one that can be considered a great book, i.e., that
really breaks new ground and/or makes a significant and truthful contribution
to the body of chess knowledge.
By this criterion, I think that the
answer is muddled. In a historical not to mention scholarly sense,
Predecessors 1-2 introduces error and confusion to the literature
without adding much to what is already well known. That is not to denigrate its
popularising effect, which is laudable, but the book offers little new material
and is in some respects a step backwards. On the other hand, in the sense of
advancing our knowledge and understanding of classic games, I think that errors
in attribution and even analysis are probably outweighed by Kasparov's
extensive and original annotations, in particular the many new moves and raw
analysis that he contributes. I'm unfortunately not familiar with the
particulars of this volume, e.g., whether a majority of analysis is still found
in other sources or how many analytical errors exist. There have been critics
in this regard. One reviewer says that for several games Kasparov's analysis is
inferior to that in other widely available sources (oh, for a Bibliography!).
In addition, Robert Hübners articles in Schach are said to
contain many accurate criticisms of the analysis; alas, I haven't read them,
but the two I have seen look convincing. Finally, some clear errors (even a
couple of simple wins) call into question Kasparov's avowed application of
computer engines throughout. For all that, I have to say that it counts for an
awful lot when the most famous games of history are subjected to thorough and
sometimes ground-breaking analysis by the greatest player in history. These
are, after all, many of the games that we grew up with and treasure most. I was
especially impressed by improvements at the most famous and critical junctures
of these games. Kasparov's scrutiny produces both extraordinary combinations
and subtle details. Of course only a tiny percentage of regular players (or for
that matter professional ones) will actually play over his labyrinthine notes.
The majority will simply read the narrative and follow the drama. But this
doesn't lessen Kasparov's objective contribution in the slightest; the
literature will be forever enriched by his analysis. Moreover, the originality
of his investigation must be a key factor in assessing the worth of this work,
and no one seems to deny that quality in it.
My own impression from
looking at a few games is that the notes, whether accurate or not, could well
repay a year or two's study. I did, however, notice the elementary fallacy of
annotating by result. To be clear: Kasparov doesn't analyse by result.
His notes, which are the important part, are objective. But his criticism of
moves, admittedly a lesser matter, seems inconsistent and influenced by the
outcome. This was evident in three of the four games I looked at for this
review.
Here's an example from the renowned game Tal-Portisch, Bled
1965, the 2nd game of their Candidates match:
1.e4 c6 2.Nc3 d5 3.Nf3
dxe4 4.Nxe4 Bg4 5.h3 Bxf3 6.Qxf3 Nd7 7.d4 Ngf6 8.Bd3 Nxe4 9.Qxe4 e6 10.00
Be7 11.c3 Nf6 12.Qh4 Nd5 13.Qg4 Bf6 14.Re1 Qb6 15.c4 Nb4
Here Tal
played the famous (and virtually forced) sacrifice:
16.Rxe6+ fxe6
17.Qxe6+ Kf8?!
This dubious symbol and the other symbols are
Kasparov's. Since the 2 alternatives to this move lead to a draw and equality,
it appears that Tal's whole conception was sound. But as it turns out, if you
believe Kasparov's own notes, Portisch's 17...Kf8 should have been equally
good.
18.Bf4 Rd8
Kasparov provides analysis to show that
this is by far the best move.
19.c5 Nxd3! 20.cxb6
20.Bh6
forces a draw (Kasparov) after 20...Qxb2 21.Qxf6+ Ke8.
20...Nxf4
21.Qg4 Nd5 22.bxa7 Ke7?
Kasparov thinks that after 22...g6!
(preferred by both Tal and Portisch) 23.Re1 Kg7 24.a8Q Rxa8 25.Qd7+ Kh6 26.Qxb7
, 'it is hard for White to count on anything better than a draw'. If that's so,
then 17...Kf8 wasn't bad at all. Play might continue 26...Rxa2! 27.Qxc6 Rd8 and
it will be hard for White to make progress.
23.b4!
23...Ra8?
Kasparov says, 'Perhaps the only chance of defending was 23...Nc7!
(Aronin).' But then I (jw) think that 24.Re1+ Kf7 25.Qg3 Nd5 26.b5! ultimately
favours White by a considerable margin, assuming that some analysis I did holds
up. A crucial line is 26...Ra8 27.b6! Bxd4? (but a4-a5 is a problem and in any
case White is much better) 28.Qg4, winning, e.g., 28...Bxb6 29.Qe6+ Kf8 30.Qd7
Bc7 31.Rb1 etc. Compare the game, which is not as dire for Black. Kasparov's
'?' seems unobjective.
24.Re1+ Kd6 25.b5
25...Rxa7?
Let's see: We are only two moves from the end
of the game and according to Kasparov, Portisch has already made '?' moves on
both moves 22 and 23 (not to mention '?!' on move 17). Yet in spite of the
suggestion that he has played so badly, Black still had an improvement that
Kasparov himself suggests: 25...Rhd8! 26.b6! Nxb6 27.Qf4+ Kd7 28.Rb1 Rxa7
29.Rxb6 Kc8, which Kasparov calls 'more tenacious'. Since Portisch's 25...Ra7??
loses instantly, Kasparov might have done well to continue a bit further. I
have taken a stab at this fascinating position. White's most obvious and
probably best try is 30.Rb4! (or 30.Qf5+ Kc7 31.Rb1 Rxa2 transposing, whereas ;
30.Rb2 Rxd4 31.Qf5+ Kc7 32.Re2 h6 gives Black's king plenty of cover and it's
not easy for White to make progress.) 30...Rxa2 31.Qf5+ Kc7 32.Rxb7+! Kxb7
33.Qb1+ Kc7 34.Qxa2 Rxd4, but then Black's c-pawn makes the situation unclear
and very interesting. In view of the greater drawbacks of the earlier
alternatives to Black's 22nd and 23rd moves as we have seen above, it looks as
though both those moves were in fact the best ones in the position! That
follows mainly from Kasparov's own analysis. This unjustified assignment of too
many question marks to the loser's moves is almost always a case of annotating
by result. On the other hand, I found nothing at all unobjective about the
actual analysis that Kasparov gives for this game, which is too long and
complex to present here. The actual game continued:
26.Re6+ Kc7
27.Rxf6! 10.
There follows Qg7+.
Everyman has done an
exceptionally good job with these books. Both Predecessors volumes are
hardbacks, well put together with a sturdy binding and attractively typeset. A
two-column format works to perfection and this is physically the
highest-quality work that I've seen from them. What to conclude? Like most
readers I find Predecessors entertaining and absorbing as browsing
material, in a way similar to the 'Greatest Tournaments in the History of
Chess' CD that I reviewed in the previous column. Therefore, in spite of my
skepticism regarding the extent of their contribution, I can recommend these
books to the few players who don't already have them on their shelves.
Postscript: Recently, and well after I wrote the first draft of this
review, some interesting exchanges took place on Nigel Davies' website
http://www.chesschamps.com/. The first is dated May 18, 2004:
When Raymond Keene protested the near-omission of Reshevsky, Davies says that
Kasparov initially responded that [in Davies' words] he 'questioned his
creative achievement in chess, saying he did not think he had contributed
anything notable'. Keene replied with a string of Reshevsky achievements and
noted his positional creativity. Kasparov countered that you could 'hardly
compare Reshevsky to Geller from a theoretical point of view...In terms of
critical opening theory Geller was way ahead.' This seems to me a limited view
of creativity! At any rate, Kasparov goes on to say that 'I will have more to
say about him in the Fischer chapter of Volume III'. [Apparently, this turns
out not to be the case, as described below.]
It seems as though
Kasparov has now changed his mind and significantly adjusted his material,
probably having taken into account such criticisms as Keene's (or perhaps even
a much earlier draft of my own review?). In the process of adding an extra
Volume 4, he seems to have made room for Reshevsky, albeit in a rather bizarre
way. On the same site on July 3rd (a week ago), Kasparov explained his new
division of the series (with an extra volume) by saying that he could have
moved 'Stein, Polugaevsky and Portisch to volume IV and try to find connections
to justify having them there, where they dont really belong', or to do
what we are doing...To put Fischer in a new book, move Larsen with him and add
material on Reshevsky and Najdorf.' He goes on to say that there will now be 21
or 22 fragments or games by Reshevsky!
Obviously Kasparov would have
told Keene about this new and apparently substantial treatment of Reshevsky if
it had already been planned at the time of their exchange. His response instead
was a dismissal of Reshevsky's importance or contribution. Kasparov's reasoning
is still strange, however. The peak of Reshevsky's career was in the late
1930s, and his world-class period extended through to the mid-1950s.
Predecessors Volume 2 covers the 2nd half of the 1930s thoroughly
(without including Reshevsky), and runs through the Tal's reign in 1960-61 and
his later career. It includes: Bronstein, whose peak period is around 1948-58;
Keres, who was extremely strong from the late 1930s well into the 1960s; and
Geller, whose peak period was around 1960-67. So the period covered by this
volume obviously includes and runs well beyond the years in which Reshevsky was
on top. Okay, that's an omission; so do the authors quietly fit him into the
next volume? No, because putting Stein (peak early 1970s), Polugaevsky (peak
late 1960s to early 1980s), and Portisch (peak early 1970s to late 1980s) into
a volume with their contemporaries 'wouldn't fit'. Thus they too must precede
discussion of Reshevsky, who is now shuttled off to a Fischer-led 'Best of the
West' Volume IV!
I guess all's well that ends well, and let it never be
said that book critics can't have a beneficial effect. Nevertheless, I'm still
left wondering what happened to poor Fine. |