All posts by Richard James

2025, Children, Congress, English, Events, Games Analysis, History, Journalism, Junior, Minor Pieces, Players, Problems, Richard James, Tournament, Uncategorized

Minor Pieces 86: London Boys Chess Championships (2)

March 6, 2025 Richard James 3 Comments

I recently introduced you to the competitors in the first London Boys Chess Championship, which took place in 1923-24.

Let’s look at how the competition progressed over the next few years.

In 1924-25 there were again ten competitors. Five had returned from the previous year: Black, Bowers, Brüning, Excell and Smith.

One of the newcomers in particular attracted a lot of press attention. This was the young blind player Alfred Rupert Neale Cross (1912-1980), known as Rupert, a pupil at Worcester College for the Blind.

He wasn’t new to competitive chess, having taken part in the British Boys Championship the previous April when he was only 11. But the press, intrigued by the novelty, provided short paragraphs about how he played the game. He was also photographed, as here in the Daily Mirror…

… and also in the Daily News.

Linlithgowshire Gazette 09 January 1925

The Staffordshire Advertiser (10 January 1925) published this game between the two youngest players, commenting that it is a really excellent game when considering that Rupert Cross is a blind boy, and has to play with board and pieces specially made for the blind.

Click on any move for a pop-up window.

The last record I have of the complete scores was this, from before the final round.

The Daily News didn’t publish the full final results, but we know that Bowers, Black and Charles all finished on 6/9 (or perhaps 6½/9: sources differ), with Excell and Smith on 5½/9, and that Cross finished on 3/9.

It was therefore the established players who, for the most part, dominated. The only interloper was Alfred George Charles, one of two competitors who would live to witness the 21st century (1907-2001). Alfred was the son of an insurance agent (previously a letter sorter), born in Holloway, North London, but, by the 1921 census, living in Tooting. He was educated first at Seddon Street School in Canonbury, and then at Battersea County (Polytechnic Secondary) School. He had previously taken part in the 1924 British Boys Championship, where he performed fairly well. In 1933 he married a South African girl who later worked as a physiotherapist: they had three daughters, one of whom died in infancy. By 1939 he was working for the Statistical Office of the Ministry of Supply in Rugby, which must have been temporary war work as the family had settled in New Malden.

Did Alfred go on to have a glittering chess career? Sadly not: this seems to have been his second and last appearance in competitive chess.

Rupert Cross wasn’t the only pupil of Worcester College for the Blind taking part in the tournament. There was also Arthur Charles Threlfall, who, as he wasn’t mentioned in the press reports, was probably partially sighted and didn’t require a special board. Arthur who was another who had a long life (1910-2002), was a Worcester pupil from 1921 to 1928. His family came from Clapham, and his father seems to have had a variety of jobs, including working as an agent in metals and for a paper. By 1939 he was an area manager for an electrical goods company in Solihull before moving to Salisbury.

Threlfall continued playing chess while he was in Worcester, sometimes representing his county on one of the lower boards.

The other two competitors were both, like Black, Jewish. Moses Lazarus Adler (1908-1978) was living in Whitechapel in 1921, just round the corner from where Mary Ann Nichols had been murdered by Jack the Ripper on 31 August 1888. His father, a newsagent, was Polish and his mother Russian. He married in 1932, but in 1939 was still living with his father, by now a widower, and the rest of his family, working as the secretary of a skin merchants’ company. Towards the end of his life he seems to have moved to Canada, where his brother had earlier emigrated.

Moses had made his tournament début in the British Championships at Stratford on Avon the previous summer, in the 3rd Class B section.

You’ll see he scored a convincing victory against a field including future BCF President Vic Soanes and Vera Menchik’s sister. You’ll also note with interest that nine of the 12 players in this section were female.

He returned to the London Boys Championship the following year, and continued playing occasionally in Middlesex through the 1930s, appearing in county matches and winning the Minor section of the 1937 county championship.

The most interesting competitor, apart from Cross, in the tournament was the player whose surname was variously given as Apfelbaum, Appelbaum and Applebaum. There were several possible candidates named John/Jack in birth and census records but I eventually managed to locate him through an obituary.

Our John, born in 1908, came from a Polish family: his father, born in Łódź, was from a family of merchants, but, in 1921, living in Greek Street, Soho, was employed more humbly as a tailor’s cutter, a job he still had in 1939.

Here he is in a school match and there, in the other match reported in the same column, is a certain Bromowski, who was actually the great polymath and chess player Jacob Bronowski.

The family later changed their name to Apley, and it’s under that name that we can pick up the rest of John’s life. In 1927 he won a scholarship to study medicine at University College London. On completing his studies he became a GP in Pinner, and was also developing an interest in paediatrics. On the outbreak of the Second World War he joined the RAF Volunteer Reserves as a medical specialist based in Wiltshire, rising to the rank of Squadron Leader. After the war he worked in paediatrics in Bath and Bristol, but with a few spells abroad, becoming, as well as a much loved doctor, a prominent author, teacher, lecturer and broadcaster. His obituary on the website of the Royal College of Physicians tells us that he was also a musician, playing oboe and clarinet, a first class chess player, a golfer and skier

You can see him on YouTube giving a tour of the Bristol Children’s Hospital.

His obituary is here and find details of his books here.

The following year there were again ten competitors. I’d assume there may have been more applications but the selectors chose the players they considered to have the best credentials.

The event still had something of a novelty value. The Evening News told its readers about the growing popularity of chess in schools.

Evening News (London) 02 January 1926

Rupert Cross was back again, as explained by the Daily News, who were not averse to repeating some still current stereotypes.

Here’s Rupert again, playing Moses Adler.

And here’s a smiling Max Black.

I don’t have the names of all ten participants at present but I can identify (at least) six returnees along with (at least) three newcomers.

As in the previous year there was a three-way tie for first place on 6/9, with two of the players repeating their earlier success: Black, Bowers and Smith.

Two of the newcomers shared 4th place on 5½: Geoffrey Harold Rowson and Simon Edward Bloom Solomons.

Geoffrey is of considerable interest. He was born on 14 May 1910, the younger of two brothers, Leslie having been born in 1905. His birth was registered in Brentford, so he might, like me, have been born in West Middlesex Hospital. His family name was originally Rosenbaum, so he may have prononced the first syllable of his surname to rhyme with ‘know’ rather than ‘now’. His mother was Esther Bloomer Caro: I haven’t been able to find any immediate connection with Horatio. Geoffrey’s father, Simon, founded a film distribution company along with his brother Harry in 1911. Ideal Film Company were originally distributors but soon started producing their own films.

Harry, who was himself a chess player, moved on to other things, spending time in America where, at one point, he worked with Emanual Lasker. Simon was later joined by his older son, Leslie, who himself became a renowned cinematographer.

Geoffrey was educated at St Paul’s School in West London, which would later count the likes of Jon Speelman, Julian Hodgson and William Watson amongst its pupils. He spent a few years, 1926 to 1928, playing chess, taking part in the London Boys Championship on three occasions and the British Boys Championship twice.

In the 1926 British Boys Championship he lost this game to a young C H O’D Alexander, that year’s winner.

Moving briefly forward, the following year Geoffrey became British Boys Champion, but after the 1928 London Boys Championship he moved on to other things in his life. After working for the family company for a short time he decided to branch out, becoming an accountant working for Marks & Spencer.

The 1939 Register found Geoffrey, his wife and their young son Henry living in a leafy suburb of Nottingham. He then moved to Leicester, where he returned to the chessboard, playing in the county wartime league and in informal matches against Nottinghamshire.

At the same time he also joined the RAF Volunteer Reserve, qualifying as a pilot of Avro Lancaster bombers.

On the evening of 17 January 1943, his plane took off from Woodhall Spa in Lincolnshire, but never returned. It appears that it was shot down by a German night fighter, crashing into the sea off the Dutch coast. You’ll find more details here.

In a tragic coincidence, the following year, John Henry Hewitt, the son of the man who donated an equipment cupboard to Twickenham Chess Club, and whose story was told in my previous Minor Piece, would lose his life in exactly the same way.

Geoffrey and John were both members of the RAFVR, both flying Lancasters, and both losing their lives when their planes were hit by night fighters.

Here are the names of Geoffrey’s crew. We should never forget the brave young men who paid the ultimate penalty in our fight against Fascism.

Unfortunately I haven’t been able to find a photograph of Geoffrey, but here’s his brother Leslie as a young man.

Sharing 4th place with Rowson was Simon Edward Bloom Solomons. Simon was born in Battersea on 2 May 1908, but by 1911 the family had moved to Willesden, where his father ran a tailor’s shop. His business was sufficiently successful for him to afford to employ a servant. The family were still there in 1921, but, as Simon was educated at Owen’s School, they may have moved to Islington at some point. They would return to Willesden later.

This seems to have been his only foray into competitive chess. On leaving Owen’s School, Simon went to London University, where he was awarded a General BSc.

He married Ada Eisman in 1936 (pictured below) but, to the best of my knowledge they had no children.

The family moved around quite a lot. In 1939 they were in Wycombe, where Simon’s occupation was given as a Civil Servant and Physicist. In the late 1940s and early 1950s Simon and Ada were living in Ruvigny Mansions, a block of mansion flats on Putney Embankment, where they were near neighbours of Enid Mary Lanspeary, They must have retired to Chichester, where Simon’s death was recorded on 25 January 1996.

The other new name in 1926 was one with some very local connections to me: William Francis Darke.

William was born on 8 December 1911 in Twickenham. For some reason he was baptised in Eastleigh, Hampshire, although neither of his parents had any obvious connection there, with his address given as 4 Gothic Road, off Staines Road not far from Twickenham Green, and his father’s occupation given as a farmer. The 1911 census, though, found the young and newly married Francis and Ada Darke at 95 Staines Road, Francis was born in the Devon village of Lamerton: his occupation here was given as a railway engine stoker working for the South Western Railway. Make of it what you will.

We can pick up the family again in the 1921 census, where the family’s address was 40 The Green, Twickenham. (This address is now a house down an alleyway behind Sainsburys, but the numbering might have changed since then.) Francis had been promoted to an Engine Driver with the London and South Western Railway, while young William had been joined by siblings Leslie and Alma.

William, a bright boy, gained a place at Hampton Grammar School, where chess was popular at the time (and indeed still is, although these days it’s just Hampton School). He learnt the moves from a children’s encyclopaedia.

His first tournament was the 1926 British Boys Championship, where he won this entertaining but inaccurate game. His opponent, the son of missionaries and born in what was then Madras, would go on to win the London Boys Championship in 1928. I also recall him playing for Staines in the 1970s and 1980s.

However, he lost a piece in the opening against (Arthur) Eric Smith: 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. O-O b5 6. Bb3 Nxe4 7. d4 f6 8. dxe5 d6 9. Bd5 and White eventually won.

William played in both the British and London Boys Championships for several years, reaching the final stages of the former in 1928, and drawing with Harry Golombek, who went on to win the title, in the London 1929 event.

He also joined Twickenham Chess Club, in this match against Richmond & Kew, playing on top board against Wilfred Kirk.

On leaving Hampton Grammar, William continued his studies – and his chess at London University. In this match Harry Golombek was unexpectedly beaten by George Tregaskis on top board.

From London University he then joined Balliol College Oxford, playing for the University team, but not selected for the Varsity matches.

(In a further tragic coincidence, FG Tims Collins would also, like Geoffrey Rowson and John Hewitt, lose his life in a Lancaster bomber: details here.)

On leaving Balliol, William joined the Civil Service, working as an economist in agriculture. His job soon took him to California, where he met and fell in love with a GP’s daughter named Marjorie Aileen van Vorhis (or Vorhies: sources vary).

Here she is now, from the University of California Berkeley 1936 Yearbook.

After what must have been a whirlwind romance, they wasted little time tying the knot: they were married before the year was out, settling in a newly built house in Beech Way, a short walk from Twickenham Green in one direction and from where I currently live in the other direction.

But something very quickly went wrong. By the time of the 1939 Register, just a few months later, he was back at home with his family, claiming to be a widower.

Except that he wasn’t. The 1940 US Census found Marjorie back at home in California with her mother, working as a schoolteacher.

They briefly reunited: in 1947 they were living in 12 Arlington Park Mansions, Chiswick, a block of mansion flats overlooking Turnham Green. At number 9, just down the corridor, was the eminent novelist and chess enthusiast EM Forster (commemorated by a blue plaque on the wall). One wonders if William and Morgan ever got together for a few games. But by 1948 they’d split up again, with William having returned to his family in Twickenham.

By 1955 he was living on his own in Grange Avenue, just the other side of Twickenham Green, and, curiously, registered as a Service Voter, implying that he was in the Armed Forces, although that indication had disappeared by 1957. He was still there in 1961, but had moved on by 1962, to where I don’t know.

The only other information I have is that William Francis Darke died in Eastbourne, a popular retirement destination, on 13 November 1998. It seems that he and Marjorie had reunited again: she also died in Eastbourne, on 30 April 2006. One online tree suggests they had a daughter, but I have no more information. She may have been born and brought up in California.

I’ll conclude for now by taking a look at the 1927 event.

Rupert Cross was still attracting press attention, but he was not the only prodigy taking part.

The Daily Chronicle managed to get a lot wrong. Rupert had, of course, competed for the London Championship before, and it also seems rather odd to describe Capablanca as imaginative rather than scientific. The sub-editor writing the headline seems to have made the mistaken assumption that this was a knock-out competition.

We need to go back just over a year to witness James Walter Rivkine’s success against the great Capa.

London Daily Chronicle 15 December 1925

He doesn’t look from the photograph as if he has a mass of fair, curly hair, does he?

The Evening News published the game.

Even Stockfish was impressed with Rivkine’s play.

The tournament this year had a different format. This time there were 16 entrants, split into two all-play-all groups of eight, with a final pool to determine the top four placings.

James had rather more difficulty with his opposition here than he did against the World Champion, failing to finish in the first three places in his group.

The following year he gave the London Boys Championship a miss, playing at Hastings instead.

The selectors, giving more credence to his win against Capablanca than his less than stellar results against his contemporaries, placed him in the Major A section, in itself a pretty strong international event: the two winners were, according to EdoChess, above 2400 strength.

Although he was somewhat outclassed, he did have the satisfaction of winning an excellent attacking game against Vera Menchik.

His loss against Landau was also entertaining.

We can see from these games that Rivkine was a creative attacking player with excellent tactical skills, who, with more experience, might well have reached master standard. But, as he suggested in the above interview, he decided to focus on his studies instead.

He was also interested in chess problems, in August 1928 winning a prize in a newspaper solving competition, his address being given as 58 Priory Road Kew Gardens, just the other side of the railway line from the National Archives. By 1931 he was in Hampshire, where he played for the county: playing on Board 3 against Devon he beat Harold Mallison, and, also on Board 3 in 1932, losing to Edward Guthlac Sergeant of Middlesex. On 5 May 1933 he was awarded a Certificate of Naturalization, making him a British citizen. His name was given as Isaac Ritvine, known as James, and he was described as a commercial traveller from Southsea. In 1936 he married Irma Willk, a dental student, and in 1939 was back in London, in Heathfield Court, Chiswick, working as a gas engineer. This is another block of flats alongside Turnham Green, just round the corner from where William Francis Darke would briefly live. James (or Jimmie as he was known within the family) and Irma didn’t stay there very long either: after the war we find them in Cricklewood, North London. After Irma’s death in 1990 he retired to Bournemouth, where he died in his late 90s in 2008.

His memory lives on today. His grandson Simon runs a business consultancy, JWR Ventures, named after his beloved grandfather’s initials.

Simon writes about him here.

James Walter Rivkine did not know when he was born – his UK passport said 1911, his birth certificate stated 1910 and when you asked him he had no real idea! He knows he was born an only child in St Petersburg, Russia and when he was about 10 years old was brought to stay with family friends in Paris by his mother – his parents feeling the real threat of the pogroms closing in. Promising to return with his father, his parents tragically did not make it back to Paris (killed in the pogroms) so James found himself orphaned and alone in pre-war Paris.

However, tragedy seemed to follow wherever life took him, with his wife and both of his children dying before he finally peacefully slipped away aged 97 (we think :-)) in his apartment with a view over the majestic Bournemouth beach on the south coast of England. He was a man that lived a thousand lives, spoke six languages and charmed hundreds that came into contact with him. Sure he had times when he was depressed, pained by all the emotional and physical challenges that life threw at him but he somehow picked himself up and got back on the saddle again more times than I care to remember.

Winding the clock back more than 80 years, I don’t have the names of all the competitors in the 1927 London Boys Championship, and I haven’t been able to identify some of the names I do have.

There were a lot of new entrants, and, unlike previous years, it was they who were the most successful.

The winner was Vincent Peter Kelly (1910-1954), the son of a police officer from Carlow, Ireland, and a pupil at St Ignatius College. This was his first tournament, and would be his only first place, although he would share second place the following year. Vincent was a problemist as well as a player, and, during 1927 had a number of problems published mostly in the Catholic newspaper The Tablet.

Here are a couple of them.

In this mate in 2 (The Tablet 09-04-1927), the key move leaves Black in zugzwang.

Another mate in 2 (mistakenly first published as a mate in 3: The Tablet 27-08-1927), a battle between the black queen and the white bishop.

The solution to the first problem is Qf3, and to the second problem is Ne8. You can work out the variations for yourself.

On leaving school he proceeded to London University, where he played for them in friendly matches, on occasion, as here, on top board ahead of none other than Harry Golombek.

On graduating he became a maths teacher in Essex, but then joined the RAF as a pilot in the Meteorological Branch, later transferring to the Admin and Special Duties Branch, and finally to the Education Branch, eventually reaching, like John Apley, the rank of Squadron Leader.

He had married in 1937, but the marriage soon broke up, his wife obtaining a divorce on the grounds of his desertion. He remarried in 1949, but sadly died young in 1954.

In second place was Harold Israel (1909-1984), the son of an elementary school teacher from Willesden, another Owen’s School pupil.

Whereas many of his contemporaries stopped playing once life, in the shape of work and marriage, got in the way, Harold was someone who continued playing chess at a high level for many years. One reason for this was perhaps that he never married. He was working in the textile industry at the time of the 1939 Register.

For several decades he was one of London’s strongest amateur players, the highlights of his career were sharing the British Correspondence Championship with Frank Parr in 1948-49 and sharing 2nd place in the 1952 British Championship. In the first BCF Grading List, published in early 1954, he was graded 2b (217-224, or about 2350 today).

There’s a discussion about him from some years ago on the English Chess Forum here. This photograph comes from an online family tree.

These two games from different stages of his career bear witness to his tactical ability.

In third place was yet another newcomer, Douglas George Durham (1911-1993). Douglas’s father was a tailor from Tottenham, North London. His older brother, Leonard Ambrose Durham (1904-1996), also a chess player, was, at the time of the 1921 census, working for what was then Crawley, Dixon & Bowring, Insurance Brokers: they later became simply Bowrings.

Here are the family, again in 1921, at their sister Queenie’s ill-starred wedding.

Douglas is on the left on his father’s lap, and Leonard is the young man in the bow tie standing behind the bridesmaid.

He took part in the London Boys Championship in 1928 and 1929 as well, without equalling this performance. By 1930 he was working for Bowrings alongside his brother, where they were seen taking the top two boards for their company team in the Insurance League.

In 1931 Leonard tied with our old friend George Tregaskis in the Insurance Championship, with Douglas down the field sharing 8th place.

In the 1934 Insurance Championship Douglas lost this game against Nevil Coles, who would later write several excellent chess books.

The top sections of the 1936 Insurance Championship included three of my opponents from more than half a century ago: Nevil Coles, Godfrey Nurse and Rodney James (no relation: he had been a competitor in the first British Boys Championship).

Both brothers were later involved in chess in Hertfordshire, where Leonard lost this Best Game Prize winning game to a Scottish international and, later, author.

The two Durham brothers continued playing for a time after the war, but it seems like they gradually withdrew from chess in the early 1950s. They were both strong amateur players, though: I suppose Leonard would be about 2100 and Douglas about 2000 in today’s money.

Fourth place was occupied by Geoffrey Rowson, while the 5th and 6th places were shared between Max Black, unable to repeat his successes of the previous two years, and Rupert Cross. James Rivkine was further down the field, along with William Darke.

There’s one other story I want to share briefly: when you see the name Barnett Bodgin you really have to investigate further.

Barnett, born 15 February 1909 (according to the 1939 Register), lived in Mile End, in what was then the Jewish quarter of London. His family had only just arrived there when he was born: his older siblings, along with his parents, were born in Vitebsk, in what is now Belarus. In the 1921 census, his father, Israel, was working as a Boot Upper Maker. There’s something odd here: The census clearly states he was aged 13 years and 10 months (which, I think, would have made him too old for the tournament), but, if the date of his birth registration and his 1939 claim is to be trusted, he was 12 years and 4 months. Who knows?

Other sources give his name as Barnet Bogin and sometimes also Slobodin: he later changed it to Lawrence Byron. By 1939 he was married to his first wife and living in Manchester, working as an engineer for a radio company. He died in Sale, Cheshire, in 1966.

This seems to have been his only experience of competitive chess.

Here he is with what I’m reliably informed is a Renault, probably a Town Car.

With Lawrence and his car, it’s time to conclude, at least for the moment, the stories of the boys who took part in the London Boys Chess Championships a century or so ago.

What can we learn from this?

Two things immediately stand out from looking at the demographics of the young players.

Firstly, you’ll note that the Jewish community were strongly represented, ranging from the sons of long established families such as Simon Solomons to new arrivals like James Rivkine. We can see this mirrored today: many of the leading young players, and this is true across all English speaking countries, come from the South and East Asian communities.

This was also a time of considerable social mobility, a time of a rapidly growing middle class, and a time when the concept of hobbies for children of secondary school age was starting to take off.

We can see here bright boys from lower middle or working class backgrounds who were winning scholarships to grammar schools, and sometimes then continuing their studies at London University. There was now a schools chess league in London: if you were fortunate enough to attend a school where one of the masters was interested in chess, a club would be set up, matches would be played against other schools, and you’d be encouraged to take part in competitions such as this. I note that my old school, Latymer Upper, wasn’t playing chess at this time, but its local rival, St Paul’s, and my local grammar school, Hampton Grammar, were both strongly represented in boys’ chess tournaments in the inter-war years.

While many of them dropped out of competitive chess on completing their education, there were some who remained hobby players for the rest of their lives, while, for Harry Golombek, chess became a career. But all of them would have retained their love of the world’s greatest game.

And what, you may well ask, about the girls? That will be another article for another time, but I have some other stories to tell first.

Join me again soon for some more Minor Pieces.

Sources and Acknowledgements

ancestry.co.uk (various family trees)
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Archives
PapersPast
Wikipedia
YouTube
BritBase (John Saunders)
English Chess Forum
British Chess News
chessgames.com
EdoChess (Rod Edwards)
ChessBase 18/Stockfish 17
MESON chess problem database (Brian Stephenson)
Yet Another Chess Problem Database (YACPD)
Royal College of Physicians website
aircrewremembered.com
JWR Ventures website

Various other sources mentioned above

2024, Batsford, Books, Reviews, Richard James

How to Choose a Chess Move

February 21, 2025 Richard James 1 Comment

From the Batsford web site:

“International Grandmaster Andrew Soltis brings you a foolproof guide to choosing your best next chess move, every time.

There are more than 20 moves you can choose from an average position, yet Chess Masters regularly manage to select the best moves – and they do it faster, more confidently and with less calculation than other players.

This practical guide, in a fully revised and updated edition of a Batsford chess classic, explains the tricks, techniques and shortcuts Masters employ to find the best way forward, at every stage of a game. Drawing on the wisdom of some of the greatest chess players of all time, with analysis from over 180 games, it covers:

• Employing specific cues to identify good moves.

• Streamlining analysis of the consequences of moves.

• Using both objective and highly subjective criteria to find the right move – from any position.

This invaluable book provides a fascinating insight into the way Chess Masters think, and is a must for all players who want to hone their decision-making skills and cultivate a killer chess instinct.”

About the Author (updated from the publisher’s website):

“Andrew Soltis is an International Grandmaster, a chess correspondent for the New York Post and a highly popular chess writer. He is the author of many books including 500 Chess Questions Answered, The Chessmaster Checklist, How to Choose a Chess Move and How to Swindle in Chess. He lives in New York.”

At one level, the game of chess is all about decision making. At (almost) every move we have a choice to make. There may be 20, 30 or 40 possible moves. Sometimes many moves will be of equal value, but on other occasions there may be only one move to win, or draw, the game.

Decision making has two stages, involving breadth and depth of vision. What are my choices? What will happen next? While computers have no trouble considering every possible legal move in a position, humans will get very confused if they try to consider too many.

The ability to make decisions rather than just relying on instinct is what makes us human. We all have decisions to make every day of our life.

Many of them will be trivial: what topping should I have on my pizza? But others may be life-changing. Should I invite this girl out for a date? Should I accept this job offer? Should I buy this house?

Or, as Soltis opens this book:

Making a decision is one of life’s basic skills. Good decisions bring us almost everything we hold valuable. Bad decisions cost us friendships, time, money and mental ease.

Schools don’t teach us how to make good decisions. But chess can. Some of the first difficult choices we make in life are at a chessboard.

Actually, I’m not sure that schools don’t teach decision making. At least in my part of the world, when children act inappropriately their teacher will often tell them they made a poor decision.

At another level, though, chess is, far more than most skills, knowledge dependent. Which is why most books are, either directly or indirectly, concerned with adding to their readers’ chess knowledge base.

Perhaps the first book about decision making over the chessboard was Kotov’s seminal Think Like a Grandmaster. I read this back in the early 1970s and found it very helpful in getting me to think about thinking, and, in doing so, to cut down on the number of avoidable blunders in my games.

Kotov’s book has also been subjected to much criticism, and, up to a point, quite rightly so. Different players will think in different ways, and different positions require different methods of thinking.

Soltis’s book might be seen as both an expansion and a corrective. If you’re looking for a book which teaches you how to think rather than what to think about, which improves your thinking processes rather than providing you with even more chess knowledge, it might be ideal for you.

This is a completely revised and updated edition of a book first published in 2005. Many of the examples come from more recent games, so, even if you have the earlier version you might want to consider this.

Soltis has long been one of my favourite chess authors, combining readability and a story-telling style of annotation with just the right amount of analysis. Not for him the excesses and colourful metaphors of some authors (not naming names, but you know who I mean), nor the reams of computer generated variations preferred by many younger writers.

As I haven’t read the earlier edition, I was eager to look inside.

Soltis covers a lot of ground in 200 pages. We have 16 chapters, each looking at a different aspect of making decisions over the board.

Let’s whizz through them quickly.

Chapter 1. It’s Your Move. We learn that there are two types of candidate move: those that improve your position according to ‘general principles’ and those of a tactical nature: Checks, Captures and Threats.

Chapter 2. Look Smart. We have to develop excellent chessboard vision so that we can immediately identify all forcing moves, both for us and for our opponent. As Magnus said: “Always look for captures and checks, kids.”

Chapter 3: Quiet Cues. Then we have to learn how to look for positional candidates, and how to visualise where you want your pieces to end up.

Chapter 4: Drawback Detective. Another way to find candidate moves is to consider the possible drawbacks of your opponent’s last move.

Here’s a simple example (Lagno – Ju Wenjun 2018).

Here, Black is threatening Rxg3+ but 1. Be1 exf4 is crushing and 1. Rf3 invites e4 (the computer prefers the difficult to spot h5). Not liking those options, she chose 1. Kh1 instead. Ju noticed the drawback of that move, putting the king on the vulnerable long diagonal, so played 1… Bc8 followed by Bb7+, winning quickly. White did have a defence in 1. Qh5, a move which has no drawbacks.

Chapter 5: Mini-Phases. Splitting a game into opening, middlegame and ending is often over-simplistic. We can think in terms of phases such as ‘late opening’ or ‘late middlegame’ which will make it easier to make decisions and find candidate moves.

Chapter 6: Mars Moves, Venus Moves. Tactics are from Mars, strategy is from Venus, but they’re not separate: ideally a good move will have both tactical and strategic aims. However, it’s easy to think of a move purely as being positional and, as a result, miss a tactic.

Chapter 7: Intuition. Strong players will often use intuition when selecting the best move. But, as Soltis warns: Sorry, but there is no easy way to acquire it. Gaining experience and the study of master games are the proven methods.

Chapter 8: Trees. We’re in Kotov territory here as we look at the concept of analysis trees.

Chapter 9: How Much Analysis?. How far along the branch of an analysis tree should you analyse? Until you run out of forcing moves: again, something explained by Kotov.

In this position (Karpov – Antunes Tilburg 1994), Black missed a golden opportunity to defeat his legendary opponent.

Antunes played 1… Bf8 here and soon lost. After the game the players were asked if they had considered 1… b3, threatening Nb4 as well as bxc2. Karpov hadn’t seen it at all, but Antunes had rejected it because of 2. Rc8 bxa2 3. Rxd8+ Rxd8 4. Qxa5, missing that 3… Bxd8 protects a5 and the a-pawn promotes.

Chapter 10: Evaluating. When we run out of forcing moves we have to evaluate the resulting position. This requires experience along with great endgame knowledge. Soltis: Suppose you can accurately look two moves into the future. What would help you improve more? Being able to see three moves ahead? Or being able to properly evaluate what you see two moves ahead? For most players, the answer is the latter.

Chapter 11: Tree Tweaking. Sometimes you have the right idea but have to reverse the move order to get it to work, perhaps using a zwischenzug.

Chapter 12: The Four Thinking Models. These are Prioritise: focus on one candidate move and play it if it seems to work, Think Like a Kotov, using the techniques recommended in Think Like a Grandmaster, Eliminate (judge options by their drawbacks and discard accordingly) and Back and Forth, switching from one move to another, scorned by Kotov but it can sometimes work.

Chapter 13: Reality Check. Before you play a move ask yourself the question “Why did you pick that move?” Every move must have a purpose rather than just ‘looking good’. As Soltis points out, bad moves decide many more games than so-called “best” moves.

Chapter 14: The Pragmatic Imperative. Be pragmatic: choose the simplest move rather than something that might be stronger but will be harder to play. Make sure you find a good move rather than trying to find the best move.

Soltis makes a contrast between Tal, who was always happy to plunge into unclear complications, with Fischer, who took a much more pragmatic approach, preferring clear lines whenever possible.

This is from Fischer-Bisguier (US Championship 1963-64 – not 1962-63 as mistakenly given in the book). A normal move for White would be 1. a4, but Fischer preferred the pawn sacrifice 1. Nd5, which Bisguier immediately declined, remarking after the game that Fischer doesn’t make unsound sacrifices. The position had the sacrifice been accepted might not be clear to you, but it was certainly clear to Fischer. The computer considers 1. a4 and 1. Nd5 to be of equal merit.

Chapter 15: Clock Mastery. You also need to be pragmatic in allocating your time, something increasingly important with today’s faster time limits. Running into time trouble will lead to anxiety, confusion and panic.

Chapter 16: Blunder Check. The final piece of advice, again as recommended by Kotov: before you make your move the last thing you do is check that you’re not making a crude blunder.

Each chapter concludes with some helpful ‘takeaways’: quick lessons you can use in your own games. Reading these before your next tournament may well be beneficial.

You’ll see that there’s a lot of material to get your teeth into here. The examples in each chapter have been expertly chosen: they are all both entertaining and instructive, with explanations in Soltis’s typically lucid style.

If you like this author’s work, and you’re interested in the subject matter, you won’t be disappointed. Although all players will get something out of it, I’d consider the book most suitable for serious competitive players from, say, 1500 up to 2000 strength.

Like all Batsford books, it is excellently produced, but looks rather old-fashioned. If you’re my age you’ll be only too happy with this. Other readers might prefer, for example, opportunities for active learning and reader participation rather than just being lectured at. Some publishers would, no doubt, have prefaced each chapter with a page of puzzles based on the positions on the following pages. You might or might not prefer this approach.

An excellent book on an important topic, then, and, if you’re interested in the decision making aspect of chess, which you certainly should be, it can be highly recommended.

Publisher’s website here.

Sample pages on Amazon here.

Richard James, Twickenham, 21st February 2025

Book Details :

Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Batsford; 1st edition (4 July 2024)
Language: English
ISBN-10:1849949239
ISBN-13:978-1849949231
Product Dimensions: 15.29 x 1.65 x 23.37 cm

Official web site of Batsford

How to Choose a Chess Move, Andrew Soltis, BT Batsford, ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1849949231

2024, Amazon Publishing, Books, Books Received, Calculation, Composition, Puzzles, Reviews, Richard James, Tactics, Training

Imagination in Chess (CD Locock/Carsten Hansen)

February 2, 2025 Richard James Leave a comment

From Amazon:

Once a chess player has learned not to drop pieces, that innate feeling of not wanting to sacrifice them willingly takes place in our consciousness. Why should give up our pieces unless we must?
This book tries to remedy that thinking pattern by introducing the student and reader to the concept of imagination. For the purpose of expanding the imagination, the author has created sixty examples of varying degrees of difficulty to illustrate tactical and mating patterns of many kinds.

Lastly, the author has put together a long list of do’s and do not’s under the umbrella of “Chess Maxims” for beginners and inexperienced players.

Charles Dealtry Locock (27-ix-1872 13-v-1946)

Last year I wrote a trilogy of pieces about the fascinating Charles Dealtry Locock, who had a long and varied career as a player, problemist, writer and, towards the end of his long life, teacher.

Locock was in many ways a man ahead of his time, a pioneering supporter of girls’ chess with a belief that composed positions have much value in chess teaching.

These days most reputable chess teachers advocate the solving of endgame studies as an excellent way to develop your creativity and imagination, and many also recommend solving composed problems as well.

Here’s Locock in his introduction to Imagination in Chess, first published in 1937:

Up to a point, I agree. My experience has always been that young pupils learn how to checkmate with two rooks and don’t bother with anything else, trading everything off to reach something they know, and missing quicker mates along the way.

I would disagree, however, that ‘frequently the only way to do this is to lose pieces on purpose’. Occasionally, yes, but not very often. Looking at Locock’s games, and at many others from the late 19th century when he was active as a competitive player, I also find many examples of unsound sacrifices.

So, while I’m in favour of introducing pupils to a wide variety of mates, and in developing their imagination, I’m also wary of being too obsessed with sacrifices at the expense of more general calculation.

Here we have 60 positions which are somewhere between positions from play and problems in that they use problem themes to illustrate mates which may arise over the board.

They are presented one to a page, using computer graphic diagrams, with smaller diagrams being used within the solutions.

This is Q29, which will give you a good idea of the sort of position you’ll find in this book.

It’s a mate in 3 (although Black would probably resign if you took the queen with your rook instead): I’m sure you can find the first move and all the variations yourself.

As the book proceeds, the positions get harder. Here’s Q55, a difficult mate in 4.

The (far from obvious) first move is Ke2, stepping aside from a potential pin on the f-file. There are (unmentioned) alternatives which also lead to mate, but take longer to achieve their aim.

I suppose you’re learning two things from these puzzles. Each one requires knowledge of standard mating patterns, but you also need to use your imagination in order to set them up.

It’s a rather unusual method of teaching chess, but it serves two purposes at once and many readers might well find working through the book helpful.

Then, as a bonus, we have the contents of another, very brief, book: One Hundred Chess Maxims For Beginners and Moderate Players, first published in 1935.

There’s an extra bonus: there are actually 103 maxims rather than the promised 100, not to mention 8 “don’ts” for beginners.

While most of them are unobjectionable, a few are decidedly odd.

Don’t No. 4 will be unpopular with devotees of the London System.

Don’t play your c1-bishop to f4. It has no attacking force there, is probably undefended, and liable to attack by queen or knight.

Maxim 37:

The object of the game is to mate, and as quickly as possible. Captures are only made to deprive the king of his defenses.

Maxim 38:

An attack on a well defended castled king must usually conclude with the sacrifice of a piece.

I always thought the object of the game was to mate as certainly as possible, not as quickly as possible. I think these two maxims, for me, sum up the deficiencies in Locock’s approach to chess.

Yes, you need to excel at calculation, but sacrifices and mates are only a very small part of calculation. Even today there are many chess teachers who fail to understand this.

While the puzzles themselves are well worth solving, here in 2025, the book has mostly curiosity value. Nevertheless, it’s great that it’s available in a well produced modern edition.

Carsten Hansen should be congratulated and thanked for his efforts in making Locock’s writings available to today’s readers.

You can buy it on Amazon here.

ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CRY1SVY7
Publisher ‏ : Alexander Game Book Classics (9 Jan. 2024)
Language ‏ : ‎ English
Paperback ‏ : ‎ 112 pages
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8874189808
Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 15.24 x 0.66 x 22.86 cm

2023, Amazon Publishing, Books Received, Endgame, Player, Reviews, Richard James

Chess Endings for Beginners (JH Blake/Carsten Hansen)

January 28, 2025 Richard James 1 Comment

Chess endings are an essential part of chess, where you try to convert your advantage, either material or positional, on the board to a full point, or if you are in an inferior position, you try to save the draw. The present volume will help you with some of the basic skills you need to improve at both.

Originally published at the beginning of the 20th century as part of a series for beginners on all phases of the chess game, this little book contains samples of all types of endgames that beginners or inexperienced players will greatly benefit from studying.

With 124 well-chosen positions, the author illustrates the fundamental knowledge of chess endgames that all players should master.

The material has been reexamined and lightly edited by FIDE Master Carsten Hansen.

This book was originally published by Routledge in 1900 as part of a series of short books on chess written for club standard players. It went through many editions over almost six decades, and has now been brought back to life for today’s readers by the industrious Carsten Hansen.

The book has been converted into algebraic notation, with computer generated image diagrams, and with the layout changed. You now get groups of four positions, two to a page, followed by a page with the four solutions. Carsten has also added some additional text and variations where he considered it helpful. There’s also a brief biography of Blake at the start of the book.

Here’s Blake’s preface.

A century and a quarter on, how well does this book stand up?

On the whole, pretty well, at least as far as the first part of the book, with 68 pawn endings, is concerned. Many novices will find it very helpful as long as they’re not put off by one or two caption errors.

We start with some basic positions which everyone should know before moving on to more complex examples. I decided to look at No. 52, which, according to Blake, ‘involves nice calculation of distances on both sides’.

Click on any move for a pop-up window.

I found a few problems with this, though, which are probably notation rather than analytical errors. ‘White to move, Black to draw’, we are told, correctly, although a more challenging option on Black’s 3rd move isn’t included. More importantly, White’s 7th move, as given, is a losing blunder (it may be a typo for Kb3 or Kb2), and Black’s 7th move returns the compliment.

These are, unfortunately, not the only issues. There are a few positions with incorrect captions and perhaps also incorrect positions. I rather suspect, for example, that the white king in No. 70 should be on f6 rather than e6 to prevent an obvious alternative solution.

The second part of the book contains 56 miscellaneous positions covering a variety of endings. Again, although the selection might seem fairly random, intermediate level players will no doubt find it helpful. This is No. 113: White to move and win.

While it’s great that Carsten has made this and other vintage books available for modern readers, it’s a pity that it wasn’t possible for someone to have a quick look through to spot any errors before publication. Blake’s book was excellent for its day and was no doubt very helpful to many club players in the first half of the last century. There are now many other endgame books on the market which today’s club players will perhaps find more relevant. I’ve even written one myself: Chess Endings for Heroes, part of the Chess Heroes series here.

If you’re interested in chess history, the development of instructional materials in chess, or, like me, in Joseph Henry Blake, though, you’ll want a copy of this book. Book collectors would no doubt prefer an original, preferably a first edition.

You can buy it on Amazon here and read more about Blake here, with perhaps a series of Minor Pieces to follow at some point.

Richard James, Twickenham 28th January 2025

ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0C1JB5JTG
Publisher ‏ : ‎ Alexander Game Books (9 April 2023)
Language ‏ : ‎ English
Paperback ‏ : ‎ 103 pages
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8390701072
Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 15.24 x 0.61 x 22.86 cm

2025, Biographies, History, Journalism, Minor Pieces, Player, Richard James

Minor Pieces 85: Harold Henry Hewitt

January 23, 2025 Richard James Leave a comment

I’m currently decluttering my house and came across this plaque at the bottom of a filing cabinet.

This was originally attached to an equipment cupboard at Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club (the two clubs merged in 1958). After becoming surplus to requirements it was used by Richmond Junior Chess Club for some time. After we stopped using it I decided I wanted to keep the plaque, resolving to find out more about the gallant and alliterative Major at some point.

And here we are. How do chess clubs choose their President? Presidents aren’t usually expected to do very much, just to provide an impressive name on your headed notepaper or, these days, on your website. Clubs might elect a famous player with connections to their club or area. They might also choose a local dignitary: perhaps the local MP or a prominent local politician. The President might also be a long-serving club member, or perhaps someone with the appropriate gravitas to represent the club to a wider public.

Major H H Hewitt wasn’t a famous player, nor did he appear to be a local dignitary. As the club (the third Twickenham Chess Club) had only been formed after World War 2, he wasn’t really a long-serving member. Perhaps his honour was a tribute to a distinguished military career.

In the past I’d tried looking for anyone of that name living in the Twickenham area, and then, looking slightly further afield, I found him in Hersham, south of Walton on Thames, west of Esher and Sandown Park racecourse. I’m sure you’d like to know more about him.

He was Harold Henry Hewitt, born on 18 June 1896 in Boston, Lincolnshire, the son of an Inland Revenue officer. The family seemed to move around a lot, possibly as a result of his father’s job. By 1901 they were in Oakham, Rutland before settling in Darlington, and in 1908 he was admitted to Darlington Grammar School. It’s not clear whether or not the family had split up by this point: in 1911 Harold, his mother and younger brother were in Darlington, while his father, now a supervisor for the Customs & Excise Department, was in London.

Harold, like many young men of his age, took the opportunity to serve his country, joining the Royal Field Artillery as a 2nd Lieutenant on 27 October 1915. On 1 July 1917 he was promoted to Lieutenant. He then met a Scottish girl, Georgina Gorrie, and they were married in Glasgow in 1919.

They soon moved to Edinburgh, where the 1921 Scottish Census found them, along with their 4 month old son John. They didn’t remain in Scotland long, relocating to Croydon where their twin daughters Joan and Muriel were born in 1925.

They were soon on the move again, this time to Colchester, where Harold swiftly ran up a string of motoring offences.

They moved yet again in 1934/35, to the newly built, and relatively modest, 1 Molesey Close Hersham, where Harold would remain for the rest of his life.

It’s not clear what his occupation was at this point, but he must have re-enlisted in the Artillery soon after the outbreak of war, rising to Captain and again to Major.

He wasn’t the only member of his family who saw service in World War 2. His son John joined the RAF Volunteer Reserves, becoming a Pilot Officer flying Lancaster bombers.

In only a few weeks he had risen to the rank of Flight Lieutenant, and, at 00:24 on 15 June, took off on a pathfinder mission for some of the 330 aircraft attacking the railway installations at Douai, Cambrai and St Pol. The plane was attacked by night fighters and shot down, with the loss of all crew.

Pilot: Flt Lt John Henry Hewitt DFC (23)
Flt Eng: Plt Off Vincent Brian Crosby DFM (33)
Nav: Plt Off Harry Louis Wilson DFC (27)
Nav: Plt Off Robert Lonsdale Clenahan DFC (23)
Bomb Aimer: Plt Off Denis Flynn DFC (31)
WOp/Air Gnr: WO Walter Smith DFC (21)
Air Gnr: Flt Sgt Gilbert Valentine (Tony) Cottrell (23)
Air Gnr: Flt Sgt Albert Bouch DFM (21)

After the crash Major Hewitt sent a personal letter to the parents of the other crew members. As of 2010, the letter to Tony Cottrell’s mother was still in the family’s possession.

Information taken from WW2Talk.com (here) and AircrewRemembered.com (here).

You can only marvel at the courage of aircrews such as this one. Harold Hewitt’s gesture in writing to the other families suggests a man with a considerable generosity of spirit, rather in contrast to the man who, a decade or so earlier, was driving around Essex and Suffolk like Mr Toad, seemingly believing that he was above the law.

Here’s John’s probate record from 11 June 1945 (a year after his death). You’ll see that Harold is now described as a company managing director, so he must have left the Royal Artillery again by this point. I have no information as to the nature of the company he managed: perhaps it was something to do with furniture.

After that day, which must have changed his life, we have little information about Harold. We catch a glimpse of him in 1948, as Treasurer of an organisation (probably of local businesses) providing financial support to youth organisations in Hersham. He would, I suspect, have been pleased then that his cupboard was later used by Richmond Junior Chess Club.

I’ve only managed to find one reference to him as a chess player, in this match against Hastings from 1954, which you might recall having seen before in this Minor Piece.

Hastings and St Leonards Observer 11 September 1954

He played on Board 19 of 22, losing his game, which suggests he wasn’t an especially strong player. But no matter. He must have been a well respected member of Twickenham Chess Club to have been appointed President.

Perhaps he joined the club on its foundation soon after the end of the war, or maybe he was a more recent member. You might also ask why he chose Twickenham Chess Club. There weren’t any major clubs very close to Hersham, but I’d have thought Surbiton or Kingston, for example, would have been an easier journey. I’d like to think that playing chess offered him some consolation after the death of his son.

I don’t know how long he remained a member of Twickenham Chess Club, or whether he continued his membership when it amalgamated with Richmond Chess Club. I don’t recall ever hearing his name mentioned.

Harold died on 5 June 1966, just before his 70th birthday. Here again is his probate record.

Georgina later moved to nearby Byfleet, dying in 1974. Their daughters, Joan and Muriel, both had children and grandchildren. If anyone from the Hewitt family reads this I’d be happy to return the plaque to them, with gratitude for the service Harold’s cupboard provided over many years to both Richmond & Twickenham and Richmond Junior Chess Clubs.

Like many of his generation, Harold Henry Hewitt served in two world wars, in his case in the Royal Artillery. As he continued to use his military title he must have been proud of his war service. His only son, a member of the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, showed exceptional skill and bravery as a pilot, losing his life in active service.

Reading a story like this I’m always reminded of Lord Dunsany’s poem (British Chess Magazine April 1943).

One art they say is of no use;
The mellow evenings spent at chess,
The thrill, the triumph, and the truce
To every care, are valueless.

And yet, if all whose hopes were set
On harming man played chess instead,
We should have cities standing yet
Which now are dust upon the dead.

Sources and Acknowledgements:

ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Forces War Records
Scotland’s People

2025, Biographies, British Championships, Congress, English, Games Analysis, Hastings, History, Journalism, Junior, Minor Pieces, Organiser, Player, Richard James, Tournament

Minor Pieces 84: George Clifford Brown

January 13, 2025 Richard James 2 Comments

For several years in the 1930s, two blind players, Theodore Tylor and Rupert Cross, were amongst the competitors in the British Championship, restricted at that time to twelve players selected from the best in the country.

Tylor was a player of genuine master standard, competing with distinction against the best in the world, while Cross was a very strong county standard player. In addition, another blind player, Reginald Bonham, halfway between Tylor and Cross in age, was of similar strength to the latter, although he played most of his chess after the war. Tylor and Bonham were also formidable correspondence players, both winning the British Correspondence Championship on three occasions.

All three of these players had attended the same school, Worcester College for the Blind, where chess was promoted by their inspirational headmaster, GC Brown. This is his story.

George Clifford Brown was born on 29 May 1879, the son of a chemist and pharmacist from Brading on the Isle of Wight. His paternal grandfather, though, had been a master mariner from Yorkshire. In the 1901 census he, along with his brother John, was a pupil at Solent College in Lymington, just a short ferry ride from Yarmouth, on the other side of the Isle of Wight from Brading. By 1901 he was teaching at Shoreham Grammar School, on the Sussex coast, but he seems not to have stayed there long.

In 1902, George married Catherine Harvey Robertson Smith in Wealdstone, near Harrow, giving his profession as a schoolmaster and an address in Jersey. They would go on to have four children, Clifford (1906), Geoffrey (1909), Douglas (1911) and Joan (1913).

In 1905 something very strange seems to have happened, judging from these news items.

Evening Standard & St James’s Gazette 05 July 1905

George’s sisters, Lilian and Muriel, ran a private school in Wealdstone called Hillside between 1900 and 1915: George might have been teaching there at some point, and might possibly, I suppose, have met Catherine there.

It seems he wasn’t suited to the world of journalism and publishing, and returned to teaching, by 1907 becoming one of the principals of Tollington Park College, a private school near Finsbury Park, in North London which had been founded by William Brown (as far as I know no relation) in 1879.

At the same time he was studying for an external degree at London University, graduating in 1910 with a second class degree in Modern European History.

University of London Student Records (ancestry.co.uk)

Here he is, and there, on his left, is Alfred Dudley Barlow, whom he would later meet over the chessboard on at least two occasions.

He was still at Tollington Park in the 1911 census, but left in 1912, in part due to young Douglas being unwell, and, in January 1913, started a new job as Headmaster of Worcester College for the Blind. A public school for boys with visual impairments, it was struggling financially at the time, and there were only five pupils there when he arrived. One of them was Theodore Tylor, who was already playing chess, and, as Brown was himself a chess enthusiast (he ran a club at his previous school) the two must have bonded.

Although he had only attended a small private school himself, Brown was a supporter of the Victorian and Edwardian Public School ethos, where excelling at games was considered almost as important as academic success. He was very keen to promote games at which the blind could compete on level terms with their sighted contemporaries, and settled on rowing and chess, which are both practised while seated. He also encouraged swimming and adaptive forms of football and cricket, and, Chris McCausland will be delighted to hear, would later introduce dancing lessons.

He soon started a chess club, encouraging all the boys to learn chess, and, by 1916, they were good enough to win the Worcestershire Public Schools Chess Championship for the first time, an event they would win on almost every occasion for more than twenty years.

The First Seventy Years: Worcester College for the Blind, 1866-1936 by Mary G Thomas

Every year a star player was invited to give a simultaneous display against the students, who were joined by players from other schools and clubs in the area.

Visiting simul givers included Alekhine, Maroczy, Réti, Kostich, Sultan Khan, Sir George Thomas, Mieses, and, in 1919, none other than Capablanca, who even lost a game to one of his sightless opponents.

Evesham Standard & West Midland Observer 01 November 1919

Here’s a photograph of the display in progress.

The winner, Edward Ingram Reed (1899-1951), from Monmouthshire, who later became a solicitor, continued playing county chess, both over the board and by correspondence, until the outbreak of World War 2. He came from a working class background – his father was a platelayer on the Great Western Railway – so must have been on some sort of scholarship. What a great day this must have been for him.

He’s seated on the right in this family photograph from about 1912.

We can also identify the college chess captain Vernon Charles Grimshaw (1901-1958), a headmaster’s son from London. By 1921 he was living in Brook Green, Hammersmith, just the other side of the park from where Amos Burn would move a few years later, and playing for West London Chess Club in matches against Richmond. He later became the Assistant General Secretary of the National Federation of the Blind.

Sadly, Reed’s game hasn’t survived, but this one has. Capa’s Stourport opponent might be considered rather unlucky to lose, having had the better of things most of the game. Click on any move in any game in this article for a pop-up window.

Brown later started to be involved with chess outside the college, taking up county chess and being elected Secretary of the Worcestershire County Chess Association.

In 1924 he took part in his first tournament, entering the 1st Class B section at Weston-Super-Mare.

The results were as follows:

(1) Percival John Lawrence (Reading) 7½/9;
(2) F A Richardson (London) 7;
(3-4) Mrs. Agnes Bradley Stevenson (London), Rev. Ernest Walter Poynton (Bath) 5½;
(5) Hiram James Horace Cope (Ilfracombe) 5;
(6) George Clifford Brown (Worcester) 4;
(7) Samuel Waterman Viveash (Bristol) 3½;
(8) Ernest Fowler Fardon (Birmingham) 3;
(9) Edward Buddel Puckridge (Kent) 2½;
(10) Francis Frederick Finch (Bristol) 1½.

The clergyman from Bath beat him with some smooth positional chess.

In 1926 Alekhine visited Worcester College for a simultaneous display. George Clifford Brown put up some stiff resistance in his game, only losing control at the end of the session when his opponent would have had just a few games left.

Here’s Alekhine, with Brown on his right, and young Rupert Cross on the right of Brown, with other Worcester College pupils who took part in the display.

You can read the whole Chess Pie article, along with a lot of other interesting material in this article by Neil Blackburn (simaginfan).

In the 1926-27 season Brown achieved a significant success, winning the Worcestershire County Championship, a title his pupil Tylor had won in 1923-24 and 1924-25. Another pupil, Bonham would later take the title on no less than 18 occasions between 1939-40 and 1960-61. His immediate successor, though, was former Minor Piece subject Dr Abraham Learner.

The school’s prowess at chess was recognised nationally in 1928 when they were awarded a British Chess Federation Schools Shield along with an annual medal to be awarded to the College champion.

George Clifford Brown returned to tournament chess over Easter 1929, but he finished in last place in the First Class C section at Ramsgate, won by one of the competitors in the inaugural London Boys’ Championship.

That winter Brown ventured to Hastings for the first time, scoring 3/9 in the Major B section, where he lost to his pupil Rupert Cross, and drew with the previously mentioned Alfred Barlow.

But on 19 May 1930 George Clifford Brown’s life was struck by tragedy, with the sudden death of his wife Catherine, who had, beyond her family duties, played an important role in helping her husband run the school.

The Evesham Standard (24 May 1930) paid tribute: She was a genial and charming hostess, a lady well fitted to have a kind of maternal oversight of a company of blind students, unfailingly cheerful and gracious in all sorts of circumstances, and mindful in every way of the peculiar claims which are made upon one occupying such a position. She will be greatly missed by many intimate friends, and particularly by the students and those chess players of the Midlands and West of England who were wont to gather at the College for chess matches.

This blow didn’t curb his interest in chess, which still remained popular at the school. In November a pupil, William George Coppage (1912-1985), the son of a house painter (1911) and builder (1921) scored a victory against Znosko-Borovsky.

Stratford-upon-Avon Herald 14 November 1930

George Clifford Brown was back at Hastings that New Year, with a similar result in the same section as the previous year. This time he lost to both Cross and Barlow, as well as to the winner, the future Sir Richard ‘Otto’ Clarke, who would much later devise the first British Chess Federation grading system.

On 7 February 1931 Worcester College hosted a 100 board match between Worcestershire and Warwickshire. The top 25 boards counted towards the South Midlands County Championship.

Evesham Standard & West Midland Observer 14 February 1931

You’ll notice that Brown lost to Ritson Morry on Board 9, while Bonham won his game on Board 4.

Architect Arthur Troyte Griffith, on Board 6, was a close friend of Edward Elgar (who, as a young man, had taught music at Worcester College) and the dedicatee of one of his Enigma Variations, which you can hear here conducted by another of Elgar’s great friends, Sir Adrian Boult.

Three of Brown’s children were also involved: Clifford and Geoffrey both played on lower boards, neither troubling the scorer. Their sister Joan was on hand to welcome the players and provide refreshments, also making a presentation to the Warwickshire top board to mark his forthcoming retirement to Hastings.

Warwickshire won the match by the narrowest possible margin, but, of greater significance, it was announced that the school would be hosting the British Championships that August, a considerable coup, not just for the Headmaster but for the whole school community.

The school community was well represented: Tylor played in the Championship, won by Yates, just ahead of Sultan Khan and Winter. Cross was in the Major Open, won by the young Vera Menchik, while Bonham shared third place in the Major Open Reserves, with Ritson Morry in mid-table and BH Wood bringing up the rear.

One of their students also took part: Barnet Ellis (1914-1974), born in Leeds, the son of a Ukrainian Jewish tailor, took park in the 2nd Class B section, where his opponents included future Leicester chess historian Don Gould and a young Russian boy named Rostislav Chernikeeff. Barnet later gained a 2nd Class Degree in Jurisprudence from Oxford University, going on to run a solicitor’s practice in Pickering, North Yorkshire.

The British Chess Magazine (September 1931) commented:

According to the rota it was the privilege of the Midland Counties Chess Union to hold the Congress in its area. It is fortunate that the Union had ideal opportunities of carrying out the Federation’ ambitious programme. Worcester has many attractions which appealed to the public as the large number of entries and visitors amply showed. The College for the Blind afforded the best accommodation. It is situated in a pleasant position outside the town. The various rooms and grounds were placed at the disposal of the visitors for every purpose that could be devised. The lounge and swimming pool especially were luxuries not often to be found at a Chess Congress. Above all the Union is to be congratulated upon its organising officers! A. J. Mackenzie, president of the Union, as an old hand experienced in Congresses, was probably quite at ease in leaving the arrangements in the hands of the headmaster of the College, G. C. Brown, M.A. It is only fair to state that the exceptional success of the Congress was due to the quiet organisation and to the general courtesy and welcome that was extended to every one by Mr. Brown and the members of his family and staff who outdid one another in their efforts to make things go smoothly.

You can find full details of the event, along with some games, on BritBase here.

One of Worcester College’s regular match opponents were Oxford University. In 1931 Brown faced a future multiple Scottish champion, coming away with half a point.

He was back again at Hastings, again in the Major B section, over the 1931-32 New Year, where his opponents included my distant kinsman Alfred Lenton.

Brown missed Hastings in 1932-33, but was again in the Major B section in 1933-34, where he shared last place.

He went down to a crushing defeat in this game against former Sussex champion Harold Stephenson.

The following year he made what would be his final appearance at Hastings, where he unfortunately lost all his games, but this was a pretty strong international tournament, featuring Koblents, who would later achieve fame as Tal’s coach, and the eccentric Nazi Diemer, of Blackmar-Diemer Gambit fame.

The winner was a Belgian international player who had no problem outclassing the tail-ender.

In August 1935 George Clifford Brown took part in a small tournament in Ludlow. Playing in the top section, his opponents included future chess author and historian R Nevil Coles, whom I played many years later.

Hastings and St Leonards Observer 24 August 1935

His son Geoffrey also took part, winning a prize in the Second Class section.

This was to be his last tournament. We can sum him up as a strong club and county player who was rather out of his depth when competing against stronger opposition in the 1st Class sections at Hastings and elsewhere. It’s unfortunate that I’ve only been able to find draws and losses so far: if you have the scores of any of his wins I’d love to see them.

1936 marked the 70th anniversary of the school and a book was published marking the event.

There were several mentions of chess, and, at the end, a list of the school’s chess successes.

The First Seventy Years: Worcester College for the Blind, 1866-1936 by Mary G Thomas

(The last name should be ARN Cross, not ARH Cross.)

I think that you’ll agree that these statistics are extraordinary, considering that this was a school which had only 5 (or 3, sources differ) pupils when Brown arrived, and, at its peak only 45 or so, and that they were all either totally blind or had severely limited vision.

The number who went on to study at Oxford or Cambridge, also listed in the book, is also notable, with some of them, including Bonham, the son of a butcher, and Ellis, the son of a tailor, coming from non-academic backgrounds.

George Clifford Brown was clearly an outstanding and inspirational headmaster, but by now age was catching up with him, and the strain of running the school was perhaps affecting his health. In 1938 he was forced to take early retirement.

Brown died on 16 July 1944, at the age of 65

George Clifford Brown should be remembered as a pioneer of chess for the blind as well as a devoted and popular headmaster for a quarter of a century.

In the rowing world, too, he’s remembered as a pioneer of adaptive rowing, now known as pararowing, and thus as a pioneer of the whole concept of parasports. I’m sure he’d have been delighted to see the success of the Paralympics today, but perhaps also disappointed that not more has been done to promote chess for children with visual impairments.

On the surface, and wearing my chess hat, everything seems wonderful. Brown was clearly an extraordinary man who was passionate about chess, passionate about his pupils, and passionate about helping them thrive as sightless people in a sighted world. Wearing my rowing hat, if I had one, I would no doubt reach the same conclusion.

Behind the scenes, though, there were problems, which grew more acute after Catherine Brown’s premature death in 1930.

In 1931 the school received its first full inspection since 1915. Although it was, in general, highly favourable, a few suggestions were made as to how it might improve.

There was a concern about the use of unqualified staff: Reg Bonham had recently returned after completing his Oxford degree to teach mathematics and Braille, while the Oxford Rower LCR Balding had also joined without a teaching qualification. In 1936 he would marry Joan Brown. There were also suggestions that the organisation of the school was unsatisfactory, that the curriculum was too narrow, and that the academic standards in some subjects could be improved.

It’s notable that the 1928 prospectus included eight photographs of rowing and six photographs of chess, compared with seven photographs of classrooms and one of the school play. While this was no doubt wonderful for the boys who excelled at rowing or chess, or, in the case of Rupert Cross, both, there would surely have been doubts about whether they had their priorities right, and whether they should be doing more to ensure academic success rather than training students to live the life of a leisured Edwardian gentleman. It’s a debate which is still extremely relevant today, a hundred years on.

One of the pupils who gained a lot from chess was John (surname not available) who, in 1935, wrote (I’ve corrected a few mistakes):

Foremost in winter comes the inevitable chess. This fascinating game attracts almost universal interest in the college and matches frequently take place between the college teams and other clubs including, Oxford University, Birmingham City and many others. We have also held the Worcestershire Public Schools Championship for many years, and in 1928, carried off a shield awarded by the British Chess Federation. We also compete in several other chess leagues, and it may also be noted that in the last sixteen years the college has provided Oxford University with several chess champions. Tournaments and informal instruction circles are arranged; whilst chess masters are invited to give lectures and to play the members of the school simultaneously. During my short residence here I have met over the board: Sultan Khan (former British Champion), Maroczy, Sir George Thomas (Present British Champion), TH Tylor (a well-known competitor at the Hastings Congress and an Old Boy of the college), Herr Mieses and Fräulein Sonja Graf (the girl champion of Germany).

Another growing issue was one of discipline, which could be lax at times. Brown was warm, empathetic and approachable, taking a full part himself in all school activities, and clearly being held in great affection by all his pupils. But he wasn’t a strict disciplinarian, and perhaps the boys sometimes took advantage of him.

While efforts were made to broaden the curriculum and improve academic standards, the organisational problems were not addressed, and, the school archives reveal, their financial position was gradually spiralling out of control.

In 1936 the governors, concerned about the deteriorating situation as well as Brown’s nepotism, decided to take action. Brown had expensive tastes in food and drink, which he expected the school to pay for, and the local butchers and wine merchants were owed significant amounts of money. Joan, who had been employed as his housekeeper, had her post terminated, and his son (I presume this was Geoffrey, who was involved in rowing as well as chess) lost his retainer for contributions to social activities. He was also told that his own employment would be terminated by his sixtieth birthday: in fact he left slightly earlier than that. All this must have been extremely distressing to him, but schools have to do what they need to do to survive and be successful.

What happened after his departure? Chess still continued to be prominent in the school for some time, as would be expected with Reg Bonham on the staff. Perhaps the strongest player from this period was John Anthony Wall, who represented Oxford in the 1949 and 1951 Varsity Matches before becoming Britain’s first High Court Judge.

Years later, a pupil at The King’s School Worcester, Malcolm (again surname not available), recalled his contacts with his blind contemporaries:

I was at Worcester Kings School as a boarder from 1949/58, and have memories of playing chess for the school in matches versus the College for the Blind who produced good players under the excellent guidance of Mr RW Bonham, who beat me soundly (at chess, that is!) in 26 moves in a Worcester & District league match on the 8th December 1956.

In that same 1956/57 chess season, 5 boys from the College were entered into the Worcestershire County Individual Junior Championship (Under 18s). Between them they produced one of the finalists – Jones – who lost to me on 17th March 1957 in an exciting 44 move game which started at the College on 13th December and had to be adjourned because of time.

In 1987 Worcester College merged with Chorleywood College (for girls with little or no sight) to form a new school: New College Worcester. Do they still play chess? The website mentions board games and a Scrabble club, but there’s no specific mention of chess.

George Clifford Brown was a remarkable man who, although, like all of us, he had his faults, undoubtedly transformed the lives of many boys who were blind or had limited vision during his 25 year tenure as Headmaster of Worcester College. His opinion that chess is something which can help young people with disabilities integrate into the outside world is something that we’ve perhaps forgotten today. He would, I think, be saddened to see how, a hundred years later, so few children with visual handicaps seem to play the game.

His story prompted quite a few thoughts.

In the 1930s, while the blind boys in Worcester were playing chess so successfully, you might recall that the boys from Desford Approved School near Leicester were also taking part in competitive chess with success. You can read their story here and here. Although the two schools were dealing with very different pupils, they were both using chess to help disadvantaged boys, and both run by men who were considered progressive in many ways. There’s even a family connection. George’s youngest son Douglas Brown’s wife had a brother-in-law, an auctioneer in Market Harborough, who was distantly related to Sydney Gimson via the Symington soup and corsets family. It’s a small world.

I spent some years involved with what was, at first, a small family-run school which, although open to everyone who could pay, attracted a high proportion of children who, for a variety of reasons, didn’t fit in to mainstream schools. Comparing the two schools I can see quite a lot in common: many of the same strengths, and also perhaps some of the same weaknesses.

There’s also the wider question, which I alluded to earlier, as to whether secondary schools should focus purely on academic attainment and future earning potential, or whether they also have a responsibility to provide cultural and social capital. This is discussed in indirect terms, for instance, in Alan Bennett’s play The History Boys. I suspect I know what Brown’s view would be and, on a personal level, I think I’d agree with him.

With regard to children with disabilities, to what extent should we be helping them meet other children who share their disabilities, and to what extent should we be finding ways to help them make contact with the wider world? Ideally, of course, you want to do both, but perhaps our education system could do more of the latter.

Leading on from this, should we in the chess community be doing more to use chess to help children with a variety of disabilities? One of the great aspects of chess, for me, is that it has few barriers of this nature. We’re not just talking about children with visual disabilities, but also children with auditory and physical disabilities, not to mention children diagnosed with conditions such as ASD (autism) and ADHD. On several occasions I’ve tried to arrange meetings in schools to discuss this, but have found no interest in anyone even talking to me. Perhaps the demand from within schools isn’t there, but it certainly should be. If you know me well you’ll know my views.

You’ll be meeting some of the young chess players from Worcester College again in future Minor Pieces.

Sources and Acknowledgements

If you’re interested in taking the story further, there’s a lot of material readily available online.

If your interest is specifically on the chess side, I’d recommend the three-part series written by Neil Blackburn, from which I took two of the photographs here. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

If you’re interested in the college itself, start with The First Seventy Years: Worcester College for the Blind, 1866-1936 by Mary G Thomas, which you can read online here.

Then there’s the centenary history: The Experiment in Education; the History of Worcester College for the Blind 1866-1966 by Donald Bell. You can read some of the pages here, but, for copyright reasons, not all are available.

More importantly, there’s a PhD thesis, ‘They can because they think they can?’: The education of pupils at two secondary schools for the blind, 1920-58, by Jeanette Normanton Erry (2011), which can be read online here. Jeanette, who is currently the Head of Outreach at New College Worcester, had access to the college archives, and paints a much more rounded picture of Brown than that in the official publications of the time.

Finally, there’s this page on the school website, written to celebrate the school’s 150th anniversary in 2016, from which I took the chess memories of John and Malcolm quoted above.

Other sources:

ancestry.co.uk (Reed family tree)
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
BritBase (John Saunders)
New College Worcester website
YouTube

2025, Books, Children, Junior, Reviews, Richard James

Checkmate!: The young player’s complete guide to chess

January 10, 2025 Richard James Leave a comment

Book description on Amazon:

“Chess is the ultimate fun strategy game – and this is the perfect introduction to chess, whether you’re a budding master or you’ve never played before.

In simple, fun stages, readers will learn what every piece can do, and how to use them on the board. Clear, original board diagrams make the action easy to understand. Readers will also discover the best tactics to use against their opponent, from how to counter the Queen’s Gambit to how to avoid the Fool’s Mate. There’s plenty to discover about the wider world of chess too – including unusual trivia and unbelievable true chess stories from history. You’ll also find a full glossary of chess terms and profiles of some of the world’s greatest players inside.

Written with clarity and humour, this is the only guide any young chess player will need.”

From the back cover:

Enter the wonderful world of chess with this amazing all-in-one guidebook.

INSIDE YOU’LL FIND:

The complete beginner’s guide to chess
Everything about special moves, tactics and more
Chess trivia and the world’s best players
Info on the world of tournament chess
In-depth tips and strategy to become a master player

Whether you’re a total beginner, looking to improve your game, or you’re a grandmaster in the making, this is the book for you!

A very large number of books for young beginners are available: I’ve written many myself, and even had a few of them published. How does this one stand out?

The first thing you’ll note is that it looks really good. The target market would be children of older primary school age (say age 9-11), who would be attracted by the mixture of photographs, large, colourful diagrams and friendly cartoon characters and enjoy reading the book.

But what about the contents?

There are two very different approaches to teaching chess to children. They might be categorised as a ‘fast’ approach’ and a ‘slow’ approach.

The slow approach can be seen in, for example, the Steps Method, which seems to have been based, whether intentionally or not, on the old Soviet method. Here, children spend the first year playing minigames using subsets of the pieces and rules and solving worksheets (small black and white diagrams) before they play a complete game. They then spend a couple of years playing within their study group before taking part in external competitions. Children start their games with 1. e4 e5 and are encouraged to play open games and gambits to develop their tactical skills.

By contrast, the fast approach teaches children the basics very quickly so that they can play competitively as soon as possible. They will often be taught safe, fairly closed openings so that they will avoid losing quickly to something like Scholar’s mate.

My personal preference, which I use in my own teaching and writing, is for something somewhere between the two. While the Steps Method is pedagogically excellent, it underestimates the social and other benefits of competitive tournament and match chess. It might also be seen, by today’s standards, as rather too serious and not much ‘fun’. On the other hand, the fast approach risks putting children into a competitive environment before they’re ready, and promotes the short-term fun of competition ahead of the long-term benefits of skills development.

Here, we start off with something about the history of chess, and learn about the board, the pieces and chess notation. We also learn the game of Fox & Hounds, which, although it’s a great game for children, you might think is more minidraughts than minichess.

Continuing with the ‘slow’ approach, the pieces are introduced in more detail using minigames to reinforce knowledge of the moves and power of each piece in turn. We’re then introduced to Losing Chess, which is always popular with children and an excellent way to teach them to look for captures. Then we have the three Special Moves, castling, pawn promotion and en passant.

We then move on to Tricky Tactics, helpfully talking about how to defend as well as about how to win pieces using forks, discovered attacks and so on.

Now a few children will gain a full understanding of, for example, forks, by seeing a couple of examples in a book like this, but most will benefit from spending time solving a lot of puzzles involving forks before moving on to the next topic. My (heretical) opinion is that teaching chess to children of primary school age requires a lot of repetition, reinforcement and feedback, and this book offers no scope for active learning through quizzes, or in any other way.

By now we’re halfway through the book, and only at this point are we introduced to the concepts of check and checkmate, and shown some typical checkmate patterns. I find this order rather strange because some of the tactics on the previous pages involved checks. However, again rather strangely, at this point there’s no mention of stalemate, although it is defined at the glossary at the end of the book.

Then it’s onto the opening. There’s some general advice about development, centre control and king safety, as you’d expect. We’re recommended to play the London System with White, and 1… c6 with Black, leading to either the Caro-Kann or the Slav: very different from the old Soviet recommendation of the King’s Gambit.

We get a few pages on strategy, and the reach the ending, with some helpful advice on pawn and rook endings. We still haven’t learnt to mate with KQ v K or KR v K, though, which I’d have thought was essential knowledge.

And then, by page 88, we’re ready for tournament chess so we have to learn about the touch and move rule, how to use a chess clock, the procedure for offering a draw and much else. We then meet some famous players of the past and the present, find out about chess technology, and finally analyse a game between Shirov and Judit Polgár (Buenos Aires 1994), won by Black. At the end of the book there’s a useful glossary.

Although much of it is well done, especially the minigames on the first few pages, it’s representative of a whole philosophy of junior chess which I don’t really care for, teaching chess far too quickly and encouraging competition before they’re ready. It’s what many parents and teachers want, though, and what most children (think they) want. The idea that you can ‘become a master player’ by reading a 112 page book is, I suppose, too tempting.

Beyond my philosophical reservations I have another problem: with the number of mistakes in the book.

It’s great to present chess trivia, but you need to get things right.

It’s good that female players are well represented, but on p69 we’re told that Hou Yifan is the highest-rated female player ever. On p94, however, we’re correctly informed that it is actually Judit Polgár who holds this honour.

On p86 we’re told that ‘Half of the games in chess reduce to rook endings’: no it’s about 8-10% (and much lower in games played by beginners).

On p89 we’re told that chess clocks were introduced in the London 1851 tournament: no, it was the London 1883 tournament.

There are also confusions between White and Black, misnaming of squares, inconsistent spellings and grammar. You might think I’m over-pedantic about picking up this sort of thing, but if you’re writing for young children it’s important to get everything right.

Children within the target age group will undoubtedly enjoy reading this book. Some of them will be talented enough to fill in the gaps, and others may be inspired to take the game further and look elsewhere for more information, but many, once they’ve got past the attractive illustrations, will end up confused.

You might like the underlying philosophy more than I do, but even then the number of mistakes and the omission of several pieces of essential knowledge make it hard for me to offer a strong recommendation. A read-through by a knowledgeable proof-reader would have made a lot of difference.

About the Author:

“John Foley is the Secretary of the Education Commission of the European Chess Union. He has authored workbooks for children and also works as a chess tutor.”

Richard James, Twickenham 6th January 2025

Book Details:

Softcover: 112 pages
Publisher: Welbeck Children’s Books (28 Sept. 2023)
Language: English
ISBN-10:180453515X
ISBN-13:978-1804535158
Product Dimensions: 18.8 x 1.2 x 24.6 cm

Checkmate!: The young player's complete guide to chess, John Foley, Welbeck Children's Books/ Hachette Children's Group (28 Sept. 2023), ISBN-13: 978-1804535158 — Checkmate!: The young player’s complete guide to chess, John Foley, Welbeck Children’s Books/ Hachette Children’s Group (28 Sept. 2023), ISBN-13: 978-1804535158

2024, Biographies, Books, Books Received, British Championships, CarstenChess, English, Games Analysis, Games Collection, Hastings, History, Player, Richard James

RP Michell: A Master of British Chess (Julius Du Mont, Carsten Hansen)

January 4, 2025 Richard James 4 Comments

Unless you’re interested in British chess in the first four decades of the last century you might not have heard of Reginald Pryce Michell (1873-1938).

Carsten Hansen hadn’t heard of him either, until he came across a collection of his best games written by Julius du Mont and first published in 1947. Acknowledgement was given to LW Barden, who read the proofs: and, of course, he’s still writing about chess 78 years later.

Michell was one of England’s leading players for several decades, and, in the 1920s and 1930s, a regular participant in the British Championship and Hastings, along with other seaside holiday tournaments. Back in those days at Hastings and elsewhere, the top section would comprise a couple of world class players, a few minor European masters, some of England’s top exponents and perhaps one or two enthusiastic amateurs, so Michell was able to cross swords with many of the greats of his day.

He had draws to his credit against four world champions, Capablanca, Alekhine, Euwe and Botvinnik, as well as wins against the likes of Bogoljubov, Sultan Khan, Réti and most of the top British players from Blackburne via Atkins and Yates through to Alexander and Golombek, all of whom feature in these pages. I’d consider this a record that almost anyone could be proud of. EdoChess has him at over 2300 for more than 40 years and above 2400 in the early years of the last century.

Carsten Hansen thought it worthwhile to investigate further. Here we have a handsome hardback (there’s also a paperback edition which contains rather less material) comprising many of his best games, along with a biography and other material.

I may well write much more about Michell at some point in the future, as he was a member of Kingston Chess Club and lived in my part of the world, but for now I’ll tell you a bit more about the book.

We start with a brief biography written by du Mont, but including a tribute from one of his contemporaries, EG Sergeant: well worth reading to give you an idea of the man behind the moves. Then we have 36 original games from du Mont’s book. His, rather shallow and inaccurate in places, annotations have been retained, but Hansen has added his own annotations based on current opening theory and computer analysis. For me, the most interesting aspect of the book is the comparison between the two sets of notes, demonstrating just how much chess has changed over the past 80 years.

Following that, there are another 36 games, annotated by Hansen, the last five of which don’t appear in the (earlier) paperback edition, along with another new feature: 36 puzzles based on the games in the book.

The author helpfully provides indexes of openings, ECO codes and players at the back of the book.

Michell was a quiet and studious man who played, for the most part, quiet and studious chess. Although the games in this book are all of interest, you won’t see all that much in the way of brilliant sacrificial attacks.

Du Mont judged this game, a victory with the black pieces against a future world championship candidate, perhaps his finest performance. Click on any move for a pop-up window.

Back in 1947 there were comments about what Michell had done to deserve a games collection, when many much stronger players hadn’t been honoured in that way. You might think they had, and still have, a point: if so I’d advise you to go away and write some of the missing books yourself. Michell, like many quiet people, had hidden depths.

I know there are many chess book enthusiasts who enjoy games collections of this type. If you fall into this category, or if you have an interest in British chess from that period, you won’t want to miss this well produced book. There are quite a few typos, but that probably won’t concern you very much.

Carsten Hansen should be congratulated for bringing du Mont’s original book back into print, and for his invaluable updates and additions. If what you’ve read about Michell has piqued your interest, don’t hesitate – and go for the hardcover version with the additional material.

You can read more about Michell and see some of his other games in this excellent article by Neil Blackburn.

The book is on sale on Amazon here.

Richard James, Twickenham 4th January 2025

Publisher ‏ : ‎ CarstenChess (27 April 2024)
Language ‏ : ‎ English
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 349 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 8793812914
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-8793812918
Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 15.24 x 2.49 x 22.86 cm

R. P. Michell - A Master of British Chess: A forgotten chess master, Carsten Hansen and Julius du Mont, Publisher ‏ : ‎ CarstenChess (16 Mar. 2024), ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-8793812888 — R. P. Michell – A Master of British Chess: A forgotten chess master, Carsten Hansen and Julius du Mont, Publisher ‏ : ‎ CarstenChess (16 Mar. 2024), ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-8793812888

2024, Anniversary, Biographies, Congress, Deaths, English, History, Journalism, Junior, Minor Pieces, Players, Richard James, Tournament, Varsity Match

Minor Pieces 83: London Boys Chess Championships (1)

December 24, 2024 Richard James 1 Comment

The 1920s saw the beginnings of chess competitions for juniors. In 1921 a boys’ tournament took place in Hastings: this was repeated in 1922 and by 1923 had become the official British Boys’ Championship, for those under the age of 18. The first winner was Philip Stuart (later Sir Stuart) Milner-Barry.

That year the London Chess League decided to run their own championship for boys, starting on 31 December 1923, so you might just about claim that 2024 marks its centenary. It’s still going strong under the name of the London Junior Chess Championships.

The tournament took place, along with two sections for adult players, at St Bride’s Institute, which would remain its venue for many years. Sir Richard Barnett, whom you met last time playing chess on a liner in 1930 before sailing off into the sunset, was on hand to open the congress, advising the contestants to put ‘safety first’.

In these days of pre-teen grandmasters and an 18-year-old world champion, it’s salutary to consider how, just a century ago, the whole idea of teenagers playing chess was considered strange. The press commented on how well they played, and on how they used up most of their time on the clock.

The tournament attracted ten players, and press interest was such that we have all their initials and surnames, and, in some cases, their schools. Of course it doesn’t help that one of the competitors was J Smith, but we can at least have a stab at identifying all of them. While most of them grew up to have fairly anonymous lives (mostly) away from the chessboard, two of them had more interesting stories to tell, one inspirational, the other disturbing.

The first story I’d like to tell is that of Max Black. Born in 1909 and a pupil at Dame Alice Owen’s School in North London, he was one of the younger competitors. In spite of his relative youth he scored 6/9, finishing in third place.

Max’s father Lionel was a wealthy Jewish silk merchant, born in Kyiv, but, by 1909 living in Baku where Max (like Garry Kasparov many years later) was born. In 1912, deciding that Russia wasn’t a safe place for a Jewish family, Anglophile Lionel, his wife and two young sons (Max had now been joined by Misha) moved to England, translating their name from the Russian Tcherny to Black. Two more children would be born there: Samuel (Sam) and Rivka (Betty).

Here, in a family photo from an online tree, you can see the family at some point in the mid 1920s.

Max played in the London Boys’ Championship for the next three years (I’ll tell you how he fared another time) before graduating to adult chess in 1928. By this time he was reading mathematics at Queens’ College Cambridge, and was also moving in the same circles as the leading philosophers of the day, such as Bertrand Russell and Ludwig Wittgenstein.

He was selected to play on board 5 in that year’s Varsity match, where he faced future Communist spy Solomon Adler.

He was losing for much of the game, but, after Adler made an instructive error just before adjudication, he was fortunate to be able to share the point. (As always, click on any move in the game for a pop-up window.)

Max entered the 1928-29 Hastings Congress where he was placed in the Major B section, won by his contemporary C H O’D Alexander.

He lost this game against another talented teenager, where he made a couple of understandable defensive errors against Mortlock’s kingside attack.

In the matches preceding the 1929 Varsity Match Max won two games against Maurice Goldstein, one of the strongest London amateurs of his day.

Here’s one of them.

It’s interesting to observe in these games that players were experimenting with openings (the Pirc Defence and the Benko Gambit) which would only become established several decades later.

In the Varsity Match itself he again faced Solomon Adler, this time getting crushed with the black pieces after playing the opening much too passively.

Max’s next appearance was in the 1930 Varsity Match, by which time he’d reached the heights of Board 2, facing (Arthur) Eric Smith.

Again, he was lucky to escape with a draw after the future Canon missed a couple of wins.

But that was to be the end of his competitive chess career, as, on completing his studies he chose to devote himself to his academic and family life.

After graduating in 1930 Max spent a year studying in Göttingen, before taking a post teaching mathematics at the Royal Grammar School in Newcastle, at the same time writing his first book, The Nature of Mathematics: a Critical Survey. In 1936 he returned to London, lecturing in maths at the Institute of Education (part of University College London). In 1940, switching from maths to philosophy, he accepted a post at the University of Illinois, before becoming a philosophy professor at Cornell University in 1946. He remained at Cornell until his retirement in 1977, but continued lecturing worldwide until his death in 1988.

Describing himself as a “lapsed mathematician, addicted reasoner, and devotee of metaphor and chess”, he maintained an interest in chess throughout his life. He is particularly noted for the ‘mutilated chessboard’ problem, devised as means of demonstrating critical thinking. Take a chessboard with two opposite corners removed. Is it possible to fill the whole board with 2×1 dominoes? If you stop and think for a moment, the solution is obvious, but not everyone is able to think like that.

His celebrity chess opponents included Arthur Koestler, whom he beat in four moves, and Vladimir Nabokov, whom he beat twice, neither game lasting more than 15 minutes. It’s said that he gave displays of blindfold chess and, even in his late sixties, gave simultaneous displays against up to 20 opponents.

I would suggest to you that, as an analytical philosopher, searching for meaning in language, mathematics, science and art, promoting logic and critical thinking, Max Black was one of the most important figures of the 20th century you probably haven’t heard of. It’s gratifying to know that, in his teens, he took part with distinction in the first four runnings of the London Boys’ Chess Championship.

If you’re interested you can read more about him on Wikipedia and MacTutor. You’ll find lots more online as well: Google Books and Amazon Books are both helpful.

His brothers both achieved eminence as well, in very different fields. Sir Misha Black, who wasn’t a competitive chess player, was an architect and designer noted for the street signs in Westminster and for designing trains for British Rail and the London Underground. Sam Black, the youngest of the three brothers, was also an alumnus of the London Boys’ Chess Championship, and had a very distinguished international career in the field of public relations while at the same time practising as an optician. A lifelong chess player, he was Secretary of Finchley Chess Club and President of the North Circular Chess League, who still run an annual blitz tournament in his honour.

While Misha Black was campaigning for peace in the 1930s, one of Max’s opponents was following a very different path.

Clement Frederic Brüning , as the youngest player in the competition, attracted some media attention.

He finished in last place, with a score of 2/9, but, undaunted, he also took part in the British Boys’ Championship a few months later, drawing with the eventual winner Wilfred Pratten in his preliminary group and finishing runner-up to Alfred Mortlock in his section of the finals.

Like Max Black, Clement came from an immigrant background. While Max was the oldest child of Russian Jewish parents who were first generation immigrants, Clement was the youngest of five sons of a German Catholic father and an English mother.

Carl Alexander Marcell Brüning (usually known as Marcell) seems to have come to England from Cloppenburg in Lower Saxony in about 1890 along with his brother Bernhard, assisting their older brother Conrad’s coal merchant’s business. The 1891 census found the family in Hampstead, and in 1901 Bernhard and Marcell were boarding in Kingston. In 1903 Marcell married Clara Mary Bagshawe, from a prominent Catholic family, whose Uncle Edward had recently retired as Bishop of Nottingham.

At this point Clara and Marcell were living a peripatetic life, living in Rochford, Essex, Newcastle, back to Rochford and then to New York, presumably for his coal dealing business. During these peregrinations, five sons were quickly born: Guy, Maurice, Roland, Peter and finally Clement in 1911.

Here, in a family photograph, is a smiling young Clement on his rocking horse.

In 1921 most of the family were still abroad, but Clara was visiting her father in Chiswick (I used to have a pupil in the next road) while Guy, taking a break from his studies, was on holiday in Westcliff on Sea, near Southend and not far from his place of birth.

They must then have returned to settle in Ealing, the Queen of Suburbs, living in a large detached house just west of the Broadway. Clement was enrolled as a pupil at Ealing Priory (now St Benedict’s) School, which was where we found him in 1924.

Clement competed in both the London and British Boys’ Championships in 1925. In the latter event he shared third place in the top section, again drawing with Pratten in a game he should have won.

John Saunders comments in BritBase:

Sources: Staffordshire Advertiser, 16 May 1925; BCM, May 1925, p216. The score of the game in BCM (from which the newspaper score may have been taken) gives the players as Bruning (White) and Pratten (Black) but the detailed description of the game on p214 makes it fairly certain that Pratten played White in the game: “In the last round Pratten very nearly had a shock. Opening with a Ponziani, which turned into a kind of Ruy Lopez after Bruning had played 3.., P-Q 3, he got a strong-looking game; but Bruning defended so well that the situation changed entirely to the holder’s disadvantage, and at last a sacrifice was obviously Black’s policy. Bruning saw this, but unfortunately sacrificed the wrong piece, and Pratten, by giving up his Queen, for adequate compensation, was able to extricate himself, and a draw resulted.” But we cannot be certain.

The computer informs me that White had an easy win in the final position, but no one seems to have realised this at the time. Insipid, as the Staffordshire Advertiser annotator calls it, it certainly wasn’t.

In 1926 he took part in the same two tournaments, but with less success, this time he performed poorly in his preliminary section of the British, but did manage to win his consolation event.

Perhaps this result was the reason why Clement decided to give up chess at this point.

In 1934, though, by which time the family, perhaps now less well off, had moved a mile to the west, to a semi-detached house in the less prestigious suburb of Hanwell, he was in the papers again, for a very different reason.

Over the next few years young Clement, clearly a young man with a gift for oratory, played an increasingly important role in Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists, speaking at events around the South of England and writing letters to newspapers. His older brothers were apparently also Blackshirts, but didn’t play a prominent role.

(Another BUF member was aviation pioneer Alliott Verdon Roe, whose mother, Annie Sophia (Verdon) Roe, had been a regular competitor in the early years of the British Ladies’ Chess Championship.)

Clement is probably one of the young men in this photograph from a meeting in Eastbourne protesting against the Public Order Bill banning political uniforms: a reaction to the Battle of Cable Street.

A brief quote from the same source:

By 1937, and now the prospective parliamentary candidate for the Wood Green constituency, he had risen to the post of Propaganda Administrator for the British Union of Fascists and National Socialists, and was working closely with both Mosley and William Joyce (Lord Haw-Haw).

He was often invited to speak at Rotary Clubs, for instance here in Cheshire.

Alderley & Wilmslow Advertiser 01 October 1937

He then moved to Bethnal Green, working for what was by then the British Union, and, when war was declared in 1939, was in Germany, apparently working for Welt-Dienst (World Service), an anti-Semitic broadcasting network.

Then something unexpected happened. He ended up in a concentration camp, where he was murdered by the Nazis on 17 August 1942. What had happened? We know he was being investigated by MI5. Perhaps he’d changed his opinion and fallen foul of the Nazis, or maybe he’d been recruited as a double agent. Nobody knows, or if they do they’re not telling. A very sad and mysterious end for the cute, chubby-cheeked smiling lad on the rocking horse, for the young perpetrator of dashing but unsound attacks in his three years of participation in boys’ chess tournaments.

Two contrasting stories, then, the brilliant mathematician and philosopher whose name was Black, and his rival whose shirt was black, and whose premature endgame resulted in tragedy.

But what of the other eight pioneers of London Boys’ Chess? Their lives, as far as I can tell, took rather more conventional courses.

The tournament winner, with a 100% score, was J Allcock of Coopers’ School, now in Upminster, but then in Bow Road, East London. I believe this was Jack Adams Allcock (1906-1969), who lived very close to the school. He was clearly a promising player, but seems to have played little chess on leaving school. We can pick him up playing for London University in 1928, and in the London League for North London in 1933. His father ran an off licence in Bow, later becoming the landlord of the Duke of York in Hackney, and it seems that Jack and his wife Eliza helped him running the pub. In spite of Jack’s education the family were never well off, both Jack and Eliza leaving very little money. I can’t find any immediate connection with the strong City of London player James Frederick Allcock.

In second place, on 6½/9, was Stanley Thomas Henry Goodwin, born in 1906, and, like Max Black, a pupil at Dame Alice Owen’s School. Also from Hackney, Stanley’s father Vincent was a Post Office sorter. He married in 1932, and the 1939 Register found him living in North London and working as a brewery clerk He served in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve in World War 2, and, it seems later emigrated to Australia where he died in Perth, but I don’t have a death date. I have no further record of any chess activity after this tournament.

Percy Geoffrey Husbands (1906-1987) of Regent Street Polytechnic scored 5/9 for fourth place. Percy lived in Ealing: his father Basil was working as a furniture dealer in 1911, but by 1921 he was a house furnisher and decorator, no longer employing servants. In 1934 Husbands became a husband, marrying Lucy Sophia Eavis, whose family owned (and still own) Worthy Farm near Glastonbury. Michael Eavis, the founder of the Glastonbury Festival, is the son of Lucy’s half-brother Joseph Eavis. By 1939 Percy was living in Uckfield, Sussex, working as an Insurance Clerk. His chess career continued in the 1924 British Boys’ Championship and the minor section of the London tournament in 1924-25, but after this event he seemed to stop playing: perhaps work, as it often does, got in the way.

Being confronted by J Smith is a genealogist’s nightmare, and that’s who we have on 4/9. We do know, though, that he was John B Smith of Sir Walter St John School in Battersea, and that he also played in the following year’s tournament. The most likely candidate is John Bryan Smith, born in 1908, the son of a plumber from Wandsworth. He spent much of the 1930s travelling 1st class to and from West Africa, described first as an Assistant and then as a Merchant’s Agent before disappearing from view.

On 3½/9 we find Hugh George Excell (1907-1993) from North London Chess Club. Hugh was the son of an Insurance Claims Inspector from Hackney. He signed up for the Royal Artillery in June 1939, but in September that year was living with his fiancée in Suffolk. Hugh continued playing competitive chess occasionally until at least 1932, including this tournament the following year, and, most notably, one of the first class sections in the 1929 Ramsgate Easter Congress. In the later 1930s he took up correspondence chess, but his chess career seems to have ended with the outbreak of the Second World War.

Here he is, playing in the London Secondary Schools competition (a separate event) in 1925.

His opponent in this game was Philip Ernest Bowers (1908-1999), who scored 3/9 in the inaugural London Boys’ Championship. Philip was the son of a Police Constable, originally from Norfolk, but who was living in Chelsea by 1921. He was a pupil at Westminster City School, and would also compete in this tournament for two more years. He returned to chess in 1935, by which time he had moved to Birmingham, and rose rapidly through the ranks to become one of his club’s leading players. By 1940 chess activity there was curtailed by the war, and it seems that, like many others, Philip stopped playing at this point. Like many chess players, he spent his adult life teaching maths.

Known as ‘Bill’ rather than Philip, here he is pictured later in life from an online family tree.

Half a point below him, and half a point above Clement Brüning in 9th place was Jack Liebster (1907-1996), the son of a Russian born GP from Stoke Newington. Both his parents were Jewish, but his mother was born in Stepney: Jack was the youngest of their five children. Chess must have been played in the family: his father is recorded as submitting correct solutions to problems in the London Daily Chronicle in 1901, but this was to be, as far as I can tell, his only experience of competitive chess. In the 1939 Register Jack was described as a Traveller, and also as an ambulance driver. He married a chemist’s daughter in 1941, and they moved to Dunstable, where they had two children and played a significant role in the local Jewish community.

That leaves one other player, variously recorded as JS Lauder or JS Lander, whose score of 3½ left him level with Hugh Excell. I can’t find anyone with that name in the right place at the right time, but I did find Joseph John Lauder (1906-1999), the son of a Scottish born Police Inspector based at Wimbledon Police Station. He was certainly a chess player, and, more importantly, a much respected chess administrator for many years. Joseph (Harry to his friends, Mr Lauder to me) was secretary of both the Surrey County Chess Association and the Southern Counties Chess Union for many years and later, in the 1970s, the SCCU Bulletin Editor. I used to visit his home in Wimbledon every year to collect our club copies of the SCCU Grading List. Quite rightly, the chess players of Surrey now compete for a trophy named in his honour. There’s no way of knowing for certain, but I do hope it was him.

There are no more pre-war chess references, but we can pick Mr Lauder up in the 1939 Register, where he was employed as a Bank Clerk and living in the next road to where he was in the 70s. The first post-war chess record I can find for him is in 1947, playing for his local club. For some years he played regular club and county chess, also enjoying competing at Bognor Regis every year up to 1962. He was a decent, above average club strength player, but it was as an administrator that he deserves to be – and still is – remembered.

There’s much more to be written about the teenage boys who played tournament chess in the 1920s. At some point I’ll introduce you to some of the other LBCC players, and perhaps some of the other competitors in the British Boys’ Championship during that period.

Sources and Acknowledgements

ancestry.co.uk (Black, Brüning and Bowers family trees)
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Archives
Wikipedia
Google Books (search for Max Black and Clement Brüning)
MacTutor
British Chess News
chessgames.com
ChessBase 18/Stockfish 17
Surrey County Chess Association and Southern Counties Chess Union archives/websites
Various other sources mentioned above

2023, Books, Games Collection, Middlegame, New in Chess, Reviews, Richard James

World Chess Champion Strategy Training for Club Players

December 21, 2024 Richard James Leave a comment

From the back cover:

“Chess players can look ahead, formulate a clear plan, and act accordingly. That’s why chess is the perfect learning environment for becoming a strategic expert. But how do you train this? It starts with playing many games and analysing them carefully afterwards.

At the same time, you should learn from the best by studying the games of the world’s strongest players and gradually build their techniques into your play. This book offers you 100 strategic exercises from the games of the best of the best, the World Champions from Bobby Fischer to Ding Liren.

You will learn foundational techniques such as: how to improve your worst-placed piece; how to exploit a lead in development; or make the right piece trade; and how to create a strong square; plus numerous others.

Solving these exercises will help every ambitious club player better understand how to make and execute plans.”

About the Author:

“Thomas Willemze is an International Master from the Netherlands. He is an experienced trainer of amateur players of all levels and has been the National Youth Coach of the Dutch Chess Federation. New In Chess has published his books The Chess Toolbox and The Scandinavian for Club Players and 1001 Chess Endgame Exercises for Beginners – all well-liked by reviewers and customers alike.”

Thomas Willemze - Wikipedia — https://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Willemze

In the introduction to the last book I reviewed, Wojciech Moranda proclaimed: “It is my utmost belief that any author who is seriously interested in helping others excel at chess should treat enriching the public domain with genuinely new training material as a priority.” He adds that “… there is a special rung in hell for authors who shamelessly keep on repeating the same, well-known examples in their books over and over again”.

While I understand where he’s coming from, I don’t entirely agree, and neither, I suspect, does Thomas Willemze. If you’re a subscriber to New in Chess Magazine you’ll know the name from his “What Would You Play?” feature, in which he asks the reader questions taken from amateur games.

Here, though, he introduces his readers to the world champions from Fischer through to Ding Liren, talking about their distinctive styles of play and offering questions concerning strategy taken from their games.

There are similarities and differences with Moranda’s book. While Moranda alternated strategic and tactical questions, Willemze only offers you questions of strategy. While Moranda’s questions give you the chance to play better than the (often very strong) player who failed to find the optimal plan, Willemze’s questions ask you to find the same plan as that chosen by his world champion subjects. Moranda’s solutions are (partially) computer-generated lines showing you what might have happened, Willemze’s solutions show you what happened in the game when the champion opted for the correct plan.

Willemze prefaces each chapter (or ‘part’) with a few pages describing the player’s style and giving a few examples of his play. He’s writing, then, for players who may be less knowledgeable about chess history and won’t have seen most of the positions before. Moranda’s assuming his readers will be well aware of the world champions’ styles and will be familiar with many of their games.

Moranda is writing mainly for very strong and ambitious players with plenty of time available for study.

Willemze is pitching his book at a slightly lower level, ‘club players’ according to the title.

Solving these exercises, he claims, will help every ambitious club player to better construct their own plans in a chess game.

He lists some of the lessons you’ll learn:

improve your worst placed piece;
exploit a lead in development;
make the right piece trade;
create a strong square;
discover your opponent’s weakest spot;
use an open file;
launch a powerful pawn break;
open up the position when needed;

Each of the 100 questions is presented in a jumbo sized diagram. Overleaf you’ll discover whether or not you found the solution, followed by a boxed ‘conclusion’ explaining the lesson to be learnt. At the end of each part you’ll find a page of flash cards which you may find useful if you like learning that way.

Let’s turn to a few random examples.

This is Karpov – Malaniuk (USSR Championship 1988). Can you find a way to activate the white bishops?

If you sacrificed the exchange on e7 you found the correct solution.

Here’s the game: click on any move for a pop-up window.

From Miles – Anand (Manila Interzonal 1990): Anand has developed a very powerful initiative on the queenside. What should be his next step?

If you chose Qc8 here, preparing to open up a second front on the other side of the board, you’ve played as well as Anand.

The complete game again:

My final position comes from a Carlsen game you might not be familiar with.

Dourerassou – Carlsen (World U14 Championship Chalkidiki 2003): how, Willemze wants to know, did Carlsen gain the upper hand?

The young Carlsen chose Rd4, to unleash his bishop, appreciating that, once the position opens up it will be superior to the white knight.

You’ll see here what happened next.

Although some of the positions will be familiar to some readers, there are many examples, such as this, from games which will be less well known. Even if you’re very well read, there will be some unfamiliar material here for you.

Willemze has done an excellent job in finding suitable positions for the book, and in offering clear and concise explanations without using reams of computer analysis. This book, I would suggest, is suitable for average or stronger club players, perhaps 1600-2200 strength, with 1800-2000 the main target market. But see what you think from the examples here and in the sample pages.

Production levels are well up to this publisher’s usual high standards, so, if you like what you’ve seen so far, you won’t be disappointed. An enjoyable read which will tell you something about the classical world champions from Fischer through to Ding, and provide you with an array of tools to improve your strategic skills.

You can find out more about the book here and read some sample pages here.

Richard James, Twickenham 21st December 2024

Book Details:

Softcover: 264 pages
Publisher: New in Chess; 1st edition (6 Sept. 2023)
Language: English
ISBN-10:9083328481
ISBN-13:978-9083328485
Product Dimensions: 17.02 x 1.65 x 23.62 cm

Official web site of New in Chess.

We focus on the British Chess Scene Past & Present !