Raymond Keene

The annual London Classic, inspired and organised by the indefatigable Malcolm Pein, is now underway at London’s Olympia. The website is www.londonchessclassic.com and in the stellar line-up are Magnus Carlsen, Fabiano Caruana, Hikaru Nakamura, Veselin Topalov, Alexander Grischuk, Viswanathan Anand, Anish Giri, Lev Aronian, Michael Adams and Maxime Vachier-Lagrave. This is the highest-rated tournament ever held on British soil, though Nottingham 1936 can challenge for quality given that five world champions were competing, namely Emanuel Lasker, Capablanca, Alekhine, Euwe and Botvinnik. London has been the scene of many brilliant games, jewels in the crown of chess art. This week I give two examples of coruscating brilliance.

Last week saw the death of the city financier Jim Slater. He was famous in chess circles for joining Henry Kissinger in persuading Bobby Fischer to play his 1972 World Championship match against Boris Spassky in Reykjavik. Kissinger’s contribution was a diplomatic phone call to Fischer, while Slater pumped extra cash into the prize fund and said Fischer was ‘chicken’ if he did not come out to play. Slater also supported British chess by offering thousands of pounds in incentives for the first British grandmasters and by sponsoring tournaments to promote British talent. I won the first of these, from which this week’s game and puzzle are taken.

It is said that more books have been written about chess than about any other game, sport or pastime. I can well believe it. When the Chess and Bridge (shop.chess.co.uk) catalogue dropped through my letterbox last week, I counted 360 book titles, and I know that is just the tip of the iceberg. One book that caught my eye in the catalogue was the unlikely entry Best Larsen’s Bent Games of Chess. I know that Bent Larsen, a supergrandmaster who in his time defeated Botvinnik, Smyslov, Tal, Petrosian, Spassky, Fischer and Karpov, sometimes resorted to weird openings, but the catalogue typo seemed to be taking things a little far. The game below is based on one from a new book on Larsen, Larsen Move by Move by Cyrus Lakdawala (Everyman Chess).

I was not quite sure whether to be annoyed or relieved about the recent High Court decision not to recognise bridge as a sport. On the one hand, it’s a comfort to know that there is now little danger of British bridge and, pari passu, chess being classified alongside activities that feature perspiring individuals running around in underwear. Chess should, in my opinion, be dignified by elegant surroundings, with the players in formal attire, as in the fictional sequence of the James Bond movie From Russia with Love, or the encounters between Nigel Short and Garry Kasparov that were screened by Channel 4 in 1987.

The two great Soviet world champion Russians, Anatoly Karpov and Garry Kasparov, have almost always taken divergent paths. Karpov was the golden boy of the Soviet establishment, while Kasparov was an early supporter of glasnost and perestroika. A détente occurred when Karpov visited Kasparov in prison after he was incarcerated by the Putin regime for taking part in a public protest in Moscow. But their ancient opposition continues. Kasparov’s new book, Winter Is Coming: Why Vladimir Putin and the enemies of the free world must be stopped (Atlantic), is a challenge to the Kremlin and the Russian president. Kasparov prepared for its publication by emigrating to New York.

Hou Yifan has won what must be considered one of the strongest, if not the strongest, all-women chess tournaments ever held. Staged in the opulent surroundings of the Casino in Monte Carlo, the organisers succeeded in arranging a line-up which could have been improved upon only if Judit Polgar had agreed to participate. Judit, after many years at the top of female chess, has finally retired. Leading scores in Monaco were as follows: Hou Yifan 9/11; M. Muzychuk and Koneru 7; Cramling and Pogonina 6. It was unfortunate that there was no British representation in this stellar competition. Indeed, ever since 1976 when the English women’s team won the silver medals in the Haifa Olympiad, there seems to have been a steady decline in English women’s chess.

When I first studied chess I thought it was a golden age for chess literature. There were the classics such as Nimzowitsch’s My System and Reti’s Masters of the Chessboard; a series of publications by Harry Golombek on his heroes Reti, Capablanca, Botvinnik and Smyslov; and Peter Clarke’s wonderful elucidations of the best games of Mikhail Tal and Tigran Petrosian. In the recent past chess authors have tended to rely too much on computer analysis and databases. Fortunately, we are now in a second golden age, where the computer is the servant rather than the tyrannical master. Garry Kasparov’s mighty My Great Predecessors series on world champions may be the best series of chess books ever written.

The Fidé World Cup, which finished last week in Baku, boasted over $1 million in overall prize money, with $100,000 going to the winner. The format consisted of short sharp knockout matches, hardly congenial to heavyweight contenders such as Kramnik, Topalov, Aronian, Nakamura and Caruana, who were all eliminated in the early stages. The final, as befits an ultimate shoot-out, lasted much longer, and extraordinarily the ten games between Sergei Karjakin and Peter Svidler all ended decisively. Karjakin came back from the grave on more than one occasion to secure the laurels, but the tournament was mainly notable for the egregious blunders committed by both sides.

White to play. This is from Blackburne-Schwarz, Berlin 1881. What is the best way to deal with the knight check? Answers to me at The Spectator by Tuesday 13 October or via email to victoria@spectator.co.uk or by fax on 020 7681 3773. The winner will be the first correct answer out of a hat, and each week there is a prize of £20. Please include a postal address and allow six weeks for prize delivery. Last week’s solution 1 ... Bxf2+ Last week’s winner R.F.

Paul Morphy, in a strange prefiguration of the later career of Bobby Fischer, was often described as ‘the pride and sorrow of chess’. In the late 1850s he blazed like a meteor across the chess firmament. He sprang to prominence by thoroughly defeating the German master Louis Paulsen in the New York tournament of 1857. Based on this success, Morphy travelled to Europe where, in quick succession, he inflicted match defeats on the established European masters such as Lowenthal, Harrwitz and finally Adolf Anderssen, who was very much regarded as champion after his victory at the London tournament of 1851. Morphy’s victories were so great that we tend to regard him as a titan of chess, but this week’s game shows that he was also human.