Some people read one book at a time, finishing it before starting another. Some people never read. Some people start things they never finish. Sometimes I read several related books in parallel. Sometimes I read a book clear through in a day or three. I always have as many as two dozen books that I call my active reading. This number includes chess books and books on other subjects.
The image on the right shows some of my current chess reading, but I tend to finish more when I have them as ebooks. Current active ebooks that I read in ChessBase include
Nepomniachtchi: Move by Move (2021) by Cyrus Lakdawala, which I was reading more actively when it first came out than now. Another that I made substantial progress through before stalling (or taking a more active interest in other texts) is Alexander Raetsky, and Maxim Chetverik,
Boris Spassky: Master of Initiative (2006). Vladimir Vukovic,
The Art of Attack in Chess (1993) sat on my shelf many years and I read a couple of chapters, often referring back to these for review. When in early 2021 I acquired the new edition (2008) with corrections by John Nunn in ChessBase format, I read through the whole book in a little more than a month, using both ebook and print editions in tandem.
During a holiday sale last month, I added ebook versions of Garry Kasparov,
My Great Predecessors (5 vols) and
Kasparov on Kasparov (3 vols) to ChessBase. I have the print edition of My Great Predecessors and often read portions.
My shelf containing
Chess Informants is nearly full. I have been a subscriber since 2015, getting each issue in print and CD format. I read the articles in the print edition and play through the games on screen. I also use the print edition for making notes (always in pencil).
Informant first captured my interest in 1996 shortly after returning to active play at the
Spokane Chess Club after more than 15 years away. I also took up postal chess again during that time. At the Washington Class Championships in Federal Way, my time between rounds put me in contact with David Weinstock, a bookseller. He had some
Informants and showed me how the system of codes worked. Over the next several years I would sometimes buy an issue that was being sold at a discounted price because several newer editions were out. Then, early this century I bought a few electronic editions of multiple volumes that could be read in
Informant’s propriety software. The company eventually stopped developing their own software and made their publication more compatible with ChessBase. Around this time, my ebook collection became complete (at least the games therein) and I maintain it as such through subscription (see “
The New Informants”).
It is unlikely that I will ever finish László Polgár,
Chess in 5333+1 Positions (1994), but recently have been going through portions of the 600 miniatures in the back of the book. These include some of the same games found in Irving Chernev,
The 1000 Best Short Games of Chess (1955), which was instrumental in transforming me into a chess player (see “
My First Chess Book”). Since September, my progress through this book has been steady and consistent. The recent article, "
Bramley -- Burgess 1946", developed from this project. This week, many of my students saw the game,
Steinitz -- Pilhal 1860, which is number 518 in Chernev.
After reading Edward Lasker,
The Adventure of Chess (1959) in December, I bought
Chess Secrets I Learned from the Masters (1951), which I intend to read soon. I acquired it the day after Willy Hendricks,
The Ink War: Romanticism versus Modernity in Chess (2022) arrived, a book that I dove into instantly. Hendriks' writing never fails to entertain as well as instruct.
In July, I am scheduled to give a presentation on chess pieces and history. Naturally, my knowledge must expand prior to then.
The Art of Chess (2002) by Colleen Schafroth is a good book with excellent images, mostly from the collections at the
Maryhill Museum of Art. A.E.J. Mackett-Beeson,
Chessmen (1973) is a smaller book and less accurate in some historical matters. Two claims early in the book set me into verification and refutation mode at the outset. First, the author makes the common error of contending that an ancient Egyptian image of two people playing a board game—
almost certainly senet—to be an early depiction of chess. And then, illogically, begins the narrative on the history of chess with a more plausible, but seemingly inaccurate description of chaturanga. Seeking a more accurate rendering drove me back into H.J.R. Murray,
A History of Chess (1913), a book I read in-part, and often revisit.
Adriaan D. De Groot,
Thought and Choice in Chess, 2nd. ed. (1978) is a classic text on memory, pattern recognition, and the relationships between playing chess well and what people try to define as intelligence. Last month, I finished reading Scott Barry Kaufman,
Ungifted: Intelligence Redefined (2013), which I had started in October. The book came to my attention while writing an article about chess talent in which I argued that capacity for hard work was more vital than any sort of so-called natural ability. A magazine article by Kaufman on the nature of talent brought his work to my attention.
