The beautiful (board) game

For many avid Free Press readers, a favourite morsel is the biweekly chess segment authored by Cecil Rosner. While many, including this reviewer, might not be terribly skilled at chess and more inclined to fiddle with the puzzles on the same page, there’s something about the explanation of the history, depth of thinking and grace under pressure that envelopes the mystery of this ancient game.

For Toronto Star journalist and editor Jordan Himelfarb, the mystery and beauty of chess not only stems from the evolution of the game itself — from India to Persia and to Spain — but also in its prime characters that have shaped the modern game over the last 150 years and who vie for global chess supremacy.

In Interregnum: Inside the Gruelling and Glamorous Battle to Become the Next King of Chess, Himelfarb tells the tale of the lead-up to the 2024 world championships, chronicling famed chess royalty, such as Magnus Carlsen, as well as his challengers — an assortment of millennial and gen-Z geniuses who possess what Himelfarb sees as the keys to chess mastery: “a powerful memory, keen analytics, a gift for abstraction, a tireless work ethic, competitive drive, physical endurance.”

Moreso, the elite chess players of the world have something deep inside them that compels them to leave school, family and what we might deem a normal life. It’s certainly not for great riches or fame — although perhaps the top 10 players might achieve some success in this area. Rather, as Himelfarb, a former professional Scrabble player, details, these chess grandmasters “are transfixed by its beauty, lured by its depth, compelled by the contest. Family, friends, hobbies — all life beyond the board begins to recede.”

To help reverse engineer the secret sauce of an elite chess player, Himelfarb uses the 2024 classical chess championship as a backdrop for his analysis. Magnus Carlsen, the confident (perhaps cocky) and mythical Norwegian, had held the title since 2013, and seemed unbeatable. Following his crowning in 2022, he vowed to never vie for the championship again, suggesting that the classical style — as opposed to blitz, rapid or random styles (yes, random chess) — does not test real intuition or skill under pressure, given that classical training is now heavily influenced by artificial intelligence (AI).

Following Carlsen’s abdication, questions surfaced about a new champion. An interregnum — or the time between supreme sovereigns — ensued (hence the book’s title). Whom, amongst the dozen or so real contenders, would surface to exert dominance over the world of chess?

In 2023, Ding Liren, a Chinese prodigy who became grandmaster at 16, would snatch the title from Russian stalwart Ian Nepomniachtchi (or Nepo), the likely crowned prince. But Liren did not represent a clear dynastic movement. Rather, there were questions about the validity to his claim to the throne.

Thus, Himelfarb passionately unpacks the road to the 2024 chess world championships — complete with vignettes on the Americans, Indians, Russians and Azerbaijani contenders who possess either the skill or mindset (but seemingly rarely both) who are determined, and sometimes not, to earn or steal the crown. From various qualifying tournaments to specific games and matches, Himelfarb exquisitely outlines the sheer physical, intellectual and emotional energy that is required to perform at such a level.

Coupled with the drama enshrined in the crowning of a new champion, Interregnum also documents the controversy within global chess governance, the public sword-rattling between players, the failure of the elite chess community to include women and the greatest existential threat to the game: artificial intelligence and cheating.

Himelfarb devotes an entire chapter to the women who have become grandmasters only to be maligned, abused, harassed and disgustingly and deliberately sidelined by a culture of absolute misogyny. For this, the chess community should be deeply ashamed. There needs to be a movement of atonement.

And as the popularity of the game has been buoyed by online streaming of matches coming out of isolation during the COVID-19 pandemic, so too has the desire to perform better through cheating, as the lure of riches becomes more enticing. Hence Carlsen’s desire to focus on versions of the game that are shorter, random and evoke the need to be good under pressure.

In the end a new king is crowned, the new king staves off a challenge from the former king and the game is still beautiful, exclusionary, maligned by AI and greed and still just a game between two opponents — not on screens, still, and in the moment.

This is perhaps the simple message behind Interregnum — that despite the madness that shrouds the pursuit of global chess dominance, there is something magical that draws millions to a checkered board, a handful of black-and-white pieces and the pausing of time.

Matt Henderson is superintendent of the Winnipeg School Division.