Why do we play chess? Is it for the competition? That might be one reason, but if that’s all we’re after we could engage in hundreds of other activities instead. Maybe it’s for the social aspect, the fun of seeing friendly acquaintances week after week at the local club? That too is part of the story, but here too chess is hardly unique. And it certainly can’t be for the money. I submit that at least two other elements are present for most chess fans: the beauty of the game at its best, and the gripping drama of its historical moments. When we see chess – fighting chess – at its best, we’re inspired and amazed, energized to go forth and do likewise in our games. (Or at least try to.) And just like sports, the great battles in chess history arouse our passions as fans, watching the heroes of the game beat the odds and fight their way to the top.
If that’s what inspires you, too, then the decision to get Garry Kasparov’s brand new work covering his games with Anatoly Karpov through their second world championship match almost defines the expression “no brainer”. The Kasparov-Karpov matches were the greatest in chess history, for many reasons. First, it was an epic battle: two players enduring five full matches for the world chess championship in six years is unprecedented. All five matches were very closely contested, with two of them coming down to the final game. Four of the matches went the distance – 24 games – and the one that didn’t went an insane 48 games. Further, one of the players (Kasparov) is widely recognized as the greatest player of all time, while the other (Karpov) is easily a candidate for the top five ever, and at least arguably the greatest player ever prior to his rival. Add to this the high level of their play, the clash of styles and personalities, the vicissitudes of the matches, and the intrigue (and how!) and, taking the matches as a whole, we have perhaps the greatest event in the history of chess.
As mentioned in the previous paragraph, the first two matches (comprising 72 games) are covered in the book, as well as four games played in earlier years. The first match, like Karpov’s title defenses in 1978 and 1981, was a race to six wins. After nine games of this match, played in 1984, Karpov had won four and lost none. Match over, right? Incredibly, no. Kasparov started a strategy of grimly hanging on, and managed to regain his equilibrium. While he assumed of course that the match would eventually be lost, he survived the immediate disaster and drew the next seventeen(!) games. At that point, Karpov won yet another game, and a 6-0 whitewash looked imminent. It didn’t happen. Kasparov won game 32, and after fourteen more draws and the start of a new year (1985), won games 47 and 48 as well.
What happened next was unprecedented and remains controversial to this day. Florencio Campomanes, then the FIDE President, made the decision to stop the match. On what basis, you might wonder, and for whose benefit? For the answer to that question, you should read Kasparov’s book…and other works as well. But Kasparov certainly lays out the case that this, as well as other events that occurred before the match, were done by leading members of the Soviet Chess Federation for the benefit of Karpov. (Needless to say, Karpov tells a different story, which is why I suggest multiple accounts of this episode.) The upshot was that the match was terminated and the players started anew in a traditional 24-game match.
That second match was a thriller: it went back and forth, featured some exquisite chess and the occasional blunder, and came down to the last game. Kasparov led by a point, but if Karpov won (with White), the match would be drawn and Karpov, as champion, would keep his title. Karpov had his chances too, but Kasparov’s defense and subsequent counterattack won the day, the game, the match and the title. (And then they played three more times, including a rematch the very next year – but for that we’ll have to wait for the next volume.)
Those two matches are the centerpiece of this volume, and Kasparov’s coverage is worthy of them. The games are deeply annotated (but not to forbidding, Hübnerian depths), and the biographical and match narratives make for interesting and occasionally riveting reading. Karpov fans might cringe every now and then, both because of the way the matches went and because of Kasparov’s pointed statements, but they won’t be bored!
I have one minor criticism concerning Kasparov’s coverage of the second match. There are updates to the analysis and theoretical comments, of course, but both the analysis and especially the text closely follow the material in Kasparov’s 1986 Pergamon Press book New World Chess Champion. There are new remarks, of course, but after twenty-three years it would have been nice to see a fresh text rather than a reworking of the original. This is only a minor point, however, as almost no one has the earlier book, the material on the first match is wholly new to English readers, and the analysis of the second match has been expanded and very carefully checked. So while more original narrative and retrospective material on the second match would have been welcome, this only slightly dims my great enthusiasm for this volume.
Very highly recommended.
Note: the book is available through the usual outlets (the publisher, chess book outlets that overcharge, Amazon and its copycats), but it’s worth considering buying it as an e-book. I enjoy reading physical volumes more than texts on a computer, but it’s conversely easier to go through well-annotated games in (e.g.) Fritz or ChessBase than on a board. (Full disclosure: I purchased the book long ago on a pre-order, but received, upon request, a copy of the e-book from the publisher.)