Review 457
Review 457
Review 457
Revealed at Last!
Why you aren't a master (and the secret
that will turn you into one)
Derek Grimmell
I kept the trumpet. I thought that I’d rather smack it with a hammer than sell
it to such a dweeb. Because the problem wasn’t his mouthpiece; it was his
mouth. He never developed it. Everyone who’s learned a musical instrument
knows that, past a certain point, further improvement will only come if you
buckle down and do lots and lots of work. Arpeggios, triplets, thirds,
octaves, overtones, until, as my band director said, you can play high Z’s all
day. Unless you do these things, for year after weary year, you will never
develop the lip strength to play with both power and precision, and you’ll
remain an amateur for life.
It’s that way with chess, too. Sure, when we were all beginners we needed to
learn some general principles. Develop your pieces, castle early, control the
center, avoid pawn weaknesses, and dozens more. But after a few years,
learning more rules and principles won’t help. You have to train
yourself to think. And that takes work.
Jacob Aagard’s most recent book, Excelling at Chess Calculation, is part of a
series that aims at teaching players how to think. While it can be used alone,
properly it belongs with Excelling at Positional Chess and Excelling at
To illustrate what I mean, think about how you play. If you use the Sicilan,
you know that the King’s Bishop will eventually go either to e7 or g7; and if
you reach an endgame, you probably know all about Rooks going behind
passed pawns. But somewhere between 8. … Be7 and 52. … Rb8, there
comes a long stretch of moves where such general knowledge is of no use.
Even your regular plans, like the c3 exchange sac or the Queenside pawn
advance, don’t seem to work. You’ve lost sight of shore and reached the
deep blue sea; England lies in your wake, North America is nowhere in sight,
and you have to steer the ship through the vast Atlantic of the middlegame
all by yourself.
At these times even a strong amateur will often settle for plausible moves,
moves that look good on general principle and at least don’t lose in any
obvious way. Post a Knight on the hole at d5 and how far wrong can you go?
Pushing the queenside pawns usually works, may as well start now! Just
keep playing reasonable moves and wait for the opponent to blunder, and if
he doesn’t, well, a draw isn’t so bad either.
But a really strong player almost never settles for a plausible move. What
makes them strong is the consistency with which they find the very best
move every time they move. Most of us would like to do the same, and we
often get stuck looking for the thinking method, the trick, by which we can
find the best move reliably. If possible, effortlessly. Unfortunately, such an
approach can never succeed. The only thing that keeps chess interesting after
decades of master games is its refusal to be reduced to general principles.
Every position is unique, and that means you have to think for yourself.
The first kind of decision chess players have to make is whether to play a
combination. This depends, first, on spotting the combinational idea and,
second, calculating whether or not the tactics work. This is the subject of
Excelling at Combinational Play, and Aagaard rightly regards pattern
recognition as the most important skill here and sheer repetition as the most
important training method.
are in between the first two. These are the tense positions, the sharp moments
that cause you to gnaw on a fingernail and wish the clock would stop ticking
so fast. No tactical bone-crusher exists, yet playing on general principles
alone will almost certainly lead to defeat. In these positions, the difference
between the best move and the nearly-best move is the difference between
road warrior and road-kill, and nothing but concrete calculation will tell us
which is which.
Okay. In the diagram, White will either move the Rook to h1 or h2, so keep
in the back of your mind that the Rook could be on either square. The key
line runs 29…hxg4 30. fxg4 f3+ (if you didn’t see this check, this book may
be over your head) 31. Bxf3 Nxf3 (do you see why White can’t just play 32.
Kxf3 here?) 32 Qh6+ (a key resource, forcing Black to block his own attack
with his King) 32…Kf7 33. Kxf3 Rh8 (analysis diagram). This is the
position you have to reach in your calculation. Now, if White’s Rook is on
h1, it goes lost to the skewer through the Queen. But if the Rook is on h2,
White has 34. Qd2!, protecting the Rook along the second rank. So, in the
game, after Karpov’s 29. Rh2!, Kasparov played 29…hxg4 30. fxg4 Rh8,
rather than the immediate …f3+, and the game ended in a draw.
Simple, right? Far from it. You have to see f3+, and why White can’t
recapture with his King (both times), and White’s Qh6+ forcing Black to
move his King to where it interferes with the attack, and most importantly
you have to see the Rook skewer on h8. And if you get that far, you have to
see that White can save his Queen and cover his Rook at the same time, but
only if the Rook stands on h2.
What makes a great player great is this ability to look one move ahead, pause
there, find the candidate moves in that position, look ahead even further, and
repeat, all at the very start of the sequence. A really strong player,
confronted with positions like Karpov -- Kasparov, will rarely just decide
that the two moves are equal and pick one. A really strong player will insist
on looking ahead until a difference between the two emerges, and only then
make a choice.
How can we all learn to do this? Part of the answer is to learn some thinking
methods, and this book contains a number of them. Ideas such as the
selection of candidate moves, calculating more slowly (an important idea),
identifying critical moments where calculation is vital, breaking out of your
mind-set, domination, comparison and elimination of alternatives, and
balancing calculation and intuition all appear in the first half of the book.
There’s nothing terribly new or earth-shaking here; if there were, we would
have to wonder what fills the thousands of other chess books on the market.
This is not an attempt to blaze new trails so much as a summary of the
thinking methods Aagaard believes to be the most valuable for calculation,
set in the context of training exercises that will make the value and the use of
each clear.
But Aagaard’s main point is that no one can develop this power and
precision without a lot of hard work. As he puts it, “There comes a time
when we meet some kind of resistance, where it requires an extra effort to
rise to the occasion. In these instances it is easy to resort to assumptions as
they use up little energy, but we need to force ourselves to concentrate and
be concrete in our thinking. Over time our ability to be concrete will
improve, just as our capability of producing oxygen increases when we take
ourselves to the edge of comfort in physical training. The result is that the
boundaries between our comfort and discomfort move, and we become able
to concentrate for longer periods and keep our focus when needed in a
tournament game.” (page 52).
Okay. First, White has a natural plan of development: Qd2, Rfe1, Rad1, Bf1.
It looks good, but in the end leads only to a minimal advantage for White,
because Black also gets to make moves while White is striving for prettiness.
Black is a little underdeveloped right now. This will not endure. Surely
White can try for more. So we look for ways to hinder Black’s development.
Black’s Bishop will come either to e6 or f5, and Aagaard’s analysis revealed
11. a4
Now 11…Bf5 meets with 12. a5 Nc8 (12…Nbd7? 13. g4 wins a piece) 13.
Ne5 and White’s position is better.
19. Qa3
The book ends with 100 exercises of the five types Aagaard thinks are most
useful for improving calculating ability: candidate moves, combinations,
pawn endings, endgame studies, and complex middlegames. These exercises
are as well chosen as the rest of the book, but they are intended as a
beginning, not an ending. True mastery will require many, many more such
exercises; this book is where you jump off, not where you land. And if you
look at each position for a minute or two and then flip to the answer, you’ll
be wasting your time. There are no deep chess secrets hidden in the
solutions; the secret is learning to force yourself to stick with a position until
you crack it, until you build up that mental strength that will let you play
with power and precision.
As you might have gathered, this book is not for everyone. It’s meant for
those who have reached club strength and are now willing to invest some
serious effort in rising to the next level -- towards mastery and perhaps
beyond. I was initially going to review it poorly, because at first I didn’t
appreciate how much of a difference my level of effort would make in the
book’s impact on me. This book and its partners have to be approached just
as seriously as anything by Dvoretsky, although they seem not quite so
difficult and not quite so advanced. They are training manuals, not very
entertaining but quite meaty.
So, if you still lose a lot of games by blundering in level positions, forget this
book and buy some combination manuals. If you’re a club player and you are
happy with playing at that level, give this book a pass. A good game
collection will be more entertaining. But if you’re a club player and you
think you might be willing to invest some real time and effort in mastering
the game, this book could be the kind of training manual you need. It will
take work; you’ve been warned – but you’re also invited. Aagaard is a
skillful teacher who puts in at least as much work as you, and if you
approach this book in that light I think you will gain a lot.