Chess was invented more than 1,500 years ago, and is played in every country in the world. Stephen Moss sets out to master its mysteries, and unlock the secret of its enduring appeal. What, he asks, is the essence of chess? And what will it reveal about his own character along the way?
In a witty, accessible style that will delight newcomers and irritate purists, Moss imagines the world as a board and marches across it, offering a mordant report on the world of chess in 64 chapters--64 of course being the number of squares on the chessboard. He alternates between “black” chapters--where he plays, largely uncomprehendingly, in tournaments--and “white” chapters, where he seeks advice from the current crop of grandmasters and delves into the lives of great players of the past.
It is both a history of the game and a kind of “Zen and the Art of Chess;” a practical guide and a self-help Moss’s quest to understand chess and become a better player is really an attempt to escape a lifetime of dilettantism. He wants to become an expert at one thing. What will be the consequences when he realizes he is doomed to fail?
Moss travels to Russia and the US--hotbeds of chess throughout the 20th century; meets people who knew Bobby Fischer when he was growing up and tries to unravel the enigma of that tortured genius who died in 2008 at the inevitable age of 64; meets Garry Kasparov and Magnus Carlsen, world champions past and present; and keeps bumping into Armenian superstar Levon Aronian in the gents at tournaments.
He becomes champion of Surrey, wins tournaments in Chester and Bury St Edmunds, and holds his own at the famous event in the Dutch seaside resort of Wijk aan Zee (until a last-round meltdown), but too often he is beaten by precocious 10-year-olds and finds it hard to resist the urge to punch them. He looks for spiritual fulfillment in the game, but mostly finds mental torture.
Stephen Moss was born in Newport, South Wales, and studied modern history at Balliol College, Oxford. He has spent most of his career as a writer and editor at the Guardian, based in London. His books include The Rookie: An Odyssey through Chess (and Life); Wisden Anthology 1978-2006: Cricket's Age of Revolution; and Pass Notes, a collection of the best of the Guardian's long-running column of that name.
This is an interesting book - but not why you think.
The premise (which I infer is why it got funded) is that an aging journalist, who was not half bad at chess as a youth, and played a little at university, plans a come-back. His goal: reach "Expert" level in chess in his 50's. In the US, this would mean going from his 1600-1700 level to about 2000. He will engage coaches, interview Grandmasters and tell us all about the inner workings of the chess world while engaging in an improvement program, which will not only make him a better chess player, but a better human being.
Here's the deal: Some people get better at chess than most when they are young. Often, nearing retirement, they decide to pick the game back up (which the author did in 2004, years before the 2012 book deal). They don't play better than when they were kids - and this is a big disappointment. They still love the game and they can see 2-3 move combinations and almost all tactics. What gives?
Why is it so hard to improve at chess is dealt with in Chess for Zebras, but I didn't see any actual effort to improve on the part of our hapless narrator. I saw him get a book deal and spend three years (2012-2015) playing in a lot of tournaments, talking to world class players and coaches, traveling to the heart of the chess soul in Moscow and then to America where apparently "Chess Is War". In all this time and effort, he gained about 10 rating points in the ECF and I would guess that he gained maybe 100 Elo. That is pitiful for 3 years of “work”.
What comes out in the book is that the author did not actually "work" on improvement - he did not gain 400 points in 400 days ala Rapid Chess Improvement, because there is not a single description of the author working. There is no mention of deliberate practice of any kind. So, you will find nothing useful if you want to know how some 50-ish person improved at chess. He was already a good club-level player before the book started, and he did not achieve the "draw" he claims - he didn't improve at all. Maybe he shook off some rust, but improve? Nope.
So, put aside the "black chapters" (he names the chapters for the squares on the board, the dark squares are for chapters about spoiling or winning this or that game or tournament). Sorry, if you are rated 1700-1800, you will win some games and perhaps even a tournament if you enter the right section and get lucky.
What you are left with are the light squares - which are written by a chess-loving journalist who knows how to write. I can only speak for the remarkable accuracy with which he describes chess in New York, Chicago and St. Louis, all places I've played tournaments. He understands the American chess tournament scene and the people and places. I must believe that he describes the British and Russian chess world with equal accuracy - and these stories are wonderful.
If you are interested in the current world of professional and amateur chess, then this book describes it in fair detail.
If you want to watch the three year, slow motion train wreck that happens when a Cotton-Headed Ninny Muggins ignores some of the best players, coaches, and writers about how to get better at chess, and then hear him whine about losing this or that "won" game, then by all means read the dark square chapters. I started skipping them somewhere near the end so I had time to do actual chess training - again something you will not find anywhere in this book.
So the book is OK because the author worked hard at getting better as a writer. He is a professional writer and journalist. He spent a great deal of time working to improve at this craft. He simply did not do anything like that for his chess while writing this book.
For me, "The Rookie" was a real page-turner. That being said, I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to non chess players. The book is best characterised as an homage to the game - something which chess-lovers will adore, but is unlikely to hold much appeal to others.
Stephen Moss is a middle-aged, middling-ability chess player. After a long time out of the game, he suddenly returns to it with renewed infatuation, and starts playing in the UK local leagues. There, he becomes acquainted with "balding, retired accountant types" who nonetheless crush him mercilessly.
Dissatisfied with his lack of prowess, he becomes determined to get better - hiring a coach, attending tournaments, buying lots of books (which sit on his shelf, unread), and travelling to the Netherlands, Russia, and America. The reader is brought along for this enjoyable ride.
The book's chapters alternate - between a personal memoir of Moss's own quest to improve, where he shares the struggles, frustrations, and (occasional) triumphs which every chess player will be able to instantly identify with - and an inquiry into the game's heritage, where he meets aging grandmasters struggling to make ends meet, the hustlers of Washington Square Park, people who knew the real legends of the game (Fischer, Donner, Tal, etc...), and plenty of the celebrities of modern-day chess (though again, "celebrities" only to real chess tragics). He even pees in a urinal next to a couple of the world's genuinely elite super-grandmasters.
Is chess art? Is it science? Why do so few women play? Have computers ruined chess? Why do people devote their lives to it, in spite of the insanely poor financial prospects? We follow Stephen Moss and his journey as he tries to answer these questions and more.
Being a 50 year old who three years ago resumed his chess playing "career" this book was an essential reading, considering how numerous is the tribe of people in their late forties/early fifties who do that I guess that writing The Rookie has been Moss's best move and that chess players will be his only readers: the 32 chapters dedicated to his quest will sound boring and obscure to the uninitiated, and I doubt that the 32 ones dedicated to the history and the current state of the game will interest the general public who has already forgotten the existence of the game. Moss's travels and meetings with memorable characters - varying from the legend Averbakh to the chess hustlers of Washington Square or from the serene millionaire *field to the grumpy GM Gormally - represent the best pages of the book and will give you a realistic view of the chess circuit, the kind of view that stays out of the pages of New in Chess or Europe Echecs. Other reviewers here have "blamed" Moss for not being serious in his quest to achieve an expert grade and I say this is an unfair assessment, Moss gets it right, I am one of those players and I know a lot of them who just like me and Moss - no matter how seriously they take their comeback - will see their grade stagnate: chess is no country for old men. At the same time Moss misses his biggest success: by the end of the book he is not anymore the guy who cries about won positions he was in the beginning, he has become a practitioner of the grind which constitutes the true essence of a chess game. Overall this is an entertaining read for people who play tournament chess, one of the rare occasions where a superficial journalist has proven that he can tell a true story.
I really enjoyed this book. Moss vividly portrays the frustrations one feels while trying to improve at chess at an older age. As I read it, I actually became reassured that my own decision to stop playing tournament chess a few years ago was a good one. In addition to documenting his own personal struggle, the author includes nice coverage of the cultural history of chess and quite a few well known personalities of chess. It is basically a snapshot of chess and chess culture at the dawn of the new millennium. As such, it casts a somewhat depressing image, and I can't help but agree with the author that chess is currently in a slow decline as a serious artistic and intellectual pursuit.
The book is well written and has plenty of small insights that make you think while you read it. Here's one from page 291, "Many of the people I encountered in chess were intelligent misfits; they had in some way been dispossessed, losing their job or suffering a marriage breakdown or feeling some grudge against the system; chess empowered them, gave them a space in which they felt comfortable and in control; it was an antidote to their powerlessness in life..." This is not the entire story of chess, but I believe there is quite a lot of truth to it.
If you are a middle-aged or older chess player who has struggled with the game, and if you enjoy reading memoirs or cultural histories, I highly recommend this book.
Sublime. This book really sucked me in. A knowledgeable, indeed wise, book on chess and why the game is so fascinating and captivating. Moss does the game a great service and himself a bit of a disservice - he is a much better player than he makes out!
I received this free copy in exchange for an honest review
I am no chess master, but I truly enjoyed this book very much.
Stephen Moss's style is refreshing and interesting. I believe we all know some chess so it is not incomprehensible and it can be easily understood as a book. I loved his stories and his experiences, it all was realistic, funny and pure. Cleverly written with some "easter eggs" hidden in the book, you will find yourself reading a story of a man that does not take a stand as a star but as a lover of the game.
I definitely recommend it to anyone who is slightly interested not only in chess but in reading a different kind of biography.
I was vacillating all the way between 3 stars to 5 stars.
The 5-star version is that this is a very readable book on a subject which, for many, is an entirely dull subject. Moss does a good job of bringing the reader along on his journey to become a better chess player. It’s deep enough, without really bogging down—and there are appendices if you need some of the blow-by-blow games.
Some criticisms of the book that bring it down. He pitched it as a book for not just chess fanatics but hopefully for the everyday reader. This is a fail. Moss hints at other aspects of his life, such as in Gibraltar going through personal issues, but never lets the reader into any other part of his journey apart from meeting chess players and playing in chess tournaments. I’m interested in chess, so the book worked for me, but I imagine it would only work for someone with a good interest in chess.
He's also messy with the ratings/rankings. He uses the English system and also more global ELO system. He should have just stuck with ELO throughout. He goes through all the 64 chapters, but doesn’t really explain how the systems work, and why, for example, an ELO difference of 100 points means there’s about 2:1 chance of the higher rated player winning. This would have grounded his goals and achievements.
While we’re on his achievements, the repetition of his goals does become wearisome. It’s obvious that he’s lazy. In 3 years he gains a very small amount of improvement in his rating. He continues to seek out advice, but doesn’t follow it. He’s kind of honest about it, but it’s just tiring hearing him carp about not improving, and not performing well at tournaments, whilst also he keeps playing for draws, doesn’t do the groundwork advised by books/experts.
One final issue was a small matter in New York, where he seemed to complain about paying street players for money, in the end playing a homeless man, and hinting that he expected to be paid $10 when he won. He lets it go, but it felt cheap and callous of a guy to fly half-way round the world and gripe about not getting $10 from a homeless guy; awful.
All in all, it was a nice journey. Moss does a great job of explaining the agony and ecstasy of chess; he’s funny, self-deprecating and well researched.
“The Rookie” is an expanded narrative of a good, but hardly world-beating, chess player and his ups and downs with competitive chess. Along the way he is able to venture to two distinct continents and meet (and interview) several well-known folks who make a living around chess. The author professes that he is setting out to profoundly improve his results, and challenges himself to reach all the way to GM standard in three short years or something. This is highly improbable, of course, as all frustrated chess players will know.
The text is in parts journalism, part chess-related historical account, part a stab at chess-related philosophy and indeed roughly half of the text are mere journal entries around chess competition at intermediate grade. Mileage may vary with all this: certainly giving the many detractors of chess due analysis is more interesting than the narrator’s recollections of his league game/s in suburban Britain.
Yet In spite of the flaws “The Rookie” is a distinctive, interesting read. Too much chess literature is around professional players giving advice, which may not trickle down the grades. Here we allow the account of Chess Everyman, who is able to articulate the tension with playing serious chess while knowing all too well his play may well be mediocre, and may even be completely trivial. Along the way we discover the author is indeed quite a capable player (hardly a “rookie”) and gets to visit, for one, Moscow for the sole purpose of playing chess. I’d love to boast of such folly.
“The Rookie” consciously attempts to enlighten those that aren’t obsessed with chess (in other words those not interested in the subject at all) why chess players stick with their questionable pursuit. I am among the afflicted, so I cannot speak to whether it is successful on that account. But it remains a charming, accessible account.
I enjoyed playing the games at the end and would not have thought them as good as they were according to the description of said games in the main text. There are some interesting insights into the world lived out on the chess board. Most poignant to me was the man who, as far as I recall, lived his summer night in a shopping trolley and played chess during the day to earn money to eat. The Soviet chess factory was all about proving the Soviet system in general as superior to the West. Moss wonders about the future of chess and feels, I think, that we are awaiting a future golden age. I have not heard of the chess weekender before. Not to be confused with the Ibiza Weekender, oh no. Well not unless Ibiza is peopled by pot-bellied middle-aged men wearing beanie hats. I thought Moss might have made more of the bragging chess hustlers in New York although he needed to, and did, cover the other chess types there. If you like chess, read it, if you don,t, read it anyway, its a nice study of life.
The Rookie is an engaging "chess autobiography" that would resonate with anybody interested in chess, particularly those that have devoted considerable time to the royal game (or any competitive hobby) as adults. The book is brilliant at conveying the psychological journey and challenge associated with improving one's game, which demands constant self-examination and a relentless growth mindset despite frequent heartbreak. Moss intersperses the tale of his personal efforts with interviews and life stories about professional players, uncovering a mesmerizing range of personalities and recipes to survive in such a specialized field. The material touches on the evolution of the game with the arrival of strong computers, the impact of the Cold War, the increasing dominance of young players, the power of individuals like Euwe to attract people to chess, and many other important aspects of chess culture.
A British journalist sets out to improve his chess game. It's a wide-ranging, multi-year journey of questionable success, but he meets some interesting people along the way. Moss plays in Britain, the Netherlands, Russia, and the United States, sampling the chess culture wherever he goes and talking to players both at and past their prime.
Moss isn't the only one who's struggling in this book. Nobody is sure where chess is at as a sport, or whether it has a long-term future. (Video games are scarcely mentioned, but it's not hard to see how e-sports could eat what's left of chess's lunch.) But what I found most compelling was the quest to understand the competitive nature of chess. What drives players to hone their skills, to dedicate so much time, money, and attention to pushing their game forward just a few more notches? There are no easy answers here, but Moss provides a lot to think about.
I believe I am the target audience for this book: male, middle-aged, fond of chess, with a slight sense that I have not made of my talents what I might have. Stephen Moss decides that he is going to get really good at one thing--and so tries to achieve an expert level as a competitive chess player. He fails. But along the way, he meets and interviews some very interesting people who are expert at chess, and also offers a nice account of the odd, sublimated psychological drama involved in playing the game.
So I liked the book. But at the same time, I have to say the narrative goes nowhere: Moss doesn't train very hard, and he doesn't get much better at chess. And the insights that he has to offer at the end of the book—chess as art vs chess as struggle—are pretty much the same ones he begins with. So if you're a chess fan, this is for you; if not, you'll stop reading soon enough.
Fantastic reading for any chess hobbyist considering upping their game to a serious amateur level.
Stephen's three year odyssey into attempted chess mastery, as an attempt to finally become an expert at something in his life, is an interesting journey. Who would have thought that entering amateur chess tournaments will take you around the country, spending weekends in hotels eating awful food or, as most impoverished chess masters do, wolf down copious amounts of greasy hotel buffets to keep you going throughout the day?
Many dilettantes try to become an expert at chess but this book shows how truly difficult or impossible it actually is.
This guy is the Bill Bryson of chess. We follow him to run-down seaside towns, supermarket cafes and tired sports halls, meeting the crusty chess disciples he encounters across the board. The book pleasantly rambles through the theories, history and geography of chess - visiting the Netherlands, Russia and the USA, meeting many players along the way, hearing their thoughts on the game and its future, & testing the author’s own mettle as he struggles to improve. An enjoyable travelogue through the world of chess.
A really nice introduction into the world of chess that started out a little too clinical in its approach to showcasing games and the history. It’s only as Moss grows as a player and portrays the real life elements of chess in the second half of the book that a narrative comes together in an engaging way. At first I grew tired of Moss’ lacklustre attempts to get better but it’s only as I carried on that I realised this was real life and not everything is like a Hollywood film, making the second half of the book all the better for it.
Enjoyable and pointless in a very British way. If you're looking for for a story with anything resembling a satisfying conclusion, look elsewhere. This book is a meandering Sunday stroll through the history of chess and the histrionics of a half-hearted attempt to master it.
But the writing is pleasant and unlike the game under discussion, takes almost no mental energy to read.
A funny book chronicling Stephen Moss attempts at becoming a better chess players. Insightful in providing a look into the chess circuit and some great interviews with professionals and other chess fanatics. Fascinating for anyone who loves chess! (It also includes his 10 most notable games - which I aim to replay as well)
Overall I enjoyed the book. The writing is fun and there are a lot of interesting observations and anecdotes about chess. However, the main thrust of the book; the odyssey to chess mastery and self-discovery falls a bit flat for me. After a while I lost interest in the (lack of) progress in this quest.
I think you really do have to like chess to enjoy this book - but as I do, I did! Very witty, self-deprecating, and yet poignant and revealing of what it is like to be a chess player at all levels, I found it engaging and inspiring. My own record while playing was 9 wins out of 11 games played! Thanks for the boost Stephen!
A decent book if you’re really into chess. Otherwise - meh. The author annoyed me early on by saying he was quintessentially average at a rating of 1700 (not average). He redeemed himself with quotes and interviews with some Chess legends and funny stories of his journey to get better. I’d call this book…. A draw
I very much enjoyed Stephen Moss's chess journey but I think it would be a tough read for a non chess aficionado to slug through. There was a plethora of interesting background information he as gathered from various chess professionals (grandmasters) that he gives the reader regarding the state of the world chess scene.
A satisfying primer on what it feels like to go through the endless ups and downs of being a competitive chess player. The style of writing is too journalistic for my personal liking. But Moss is a journalist by trade (and a good one, I'm sure) so that's not surprising.
Sometimes we have the feeling, after reading a book, that it was written just for ourselves. That’s my feeling with “The Rookie”. Middle aged professional, always fascinated by chess, decides to pursue some sort of sabbatical dedicated to “improve” in the game and, why not, become an expert. The journey is not that easy but quite interesting by itself. Although the expertise initially aimed proves to be quite elusive, the journey itself looks worthwhile. Traveling to some some famous venues to play century-old tournaments, checking out some famous chess clubs around the world (from crazy Russian basements to the exuberant St. Louis Chess Club, passing through Washington Square hustlers...) and meeting a fragrant bouquet of amazing characters on the way. A highly entertaining, humorous book that teaches us that not everything we want in life is achievable, but the quest is always worth pursuing.
An entertaining tour-de-force through the backwaters and spotlights of competitive (and not so competitive) chess: the exhilarating and engrossing, the depressing and certifiable, the highs and lows; never a dull moment and always a reflection and celebration of life. Eminently readable and recommended for chess buffs as well as their hapless entourage aka families.