Saturday, September 4, 2010

City of Thieves



So many tacks, so little time.
Do I follow the obvious path, back-to-back Russian, Jewish, master chess player, protagonists focused on WW-II ?.?, or do we go for the variation on that theme: well-educated, grandchild of a truly interesting person, who, three generations before, experienced a major cataclysm of war and politics.
Only in passing am I referencing either David Benioff or Michael Chabon: No, I’m referring to Pushkin, Gogol, Turgenev, and Chekhov. These were all masters of the art of story-telling; and their grandpa’s claim to fame was: revolutions in France & America, a krazy frog or kraut (caricatures: arm-in-sling, or mustache), War of 1812 and all that; followed by relative Imperial tranquility for 3-4 score years.

Fascinating as it is to me, I will quickly dispense with the chess game: The Queen’s [pawn] Gambit Declined, {book on table}, Tarrasch’s black divergence leads to an unusual black win .

It is a given that all Russians excel in chess; also most émigrés from Russia in the last century were Jewish; so why the good authors? Is it just good lineage? Hannah Stone, who used to frequent these literary soirees, reports that Chabon’s wife is in a group with her daughter in Marin, and that Michael is for real.
Of course, another tack could be that movies, film, and television are the more creative art medium these days. This might have been a positive third direction; but it, too gratingly, brings to mind the horrid Stef Penny scribbling of two months ago; her mad drive to have a series something like TV’s “Lost.”. I’d like to maintain the fantasy that “City … ..” was singularly written as a family memoir and not as a stepping stone, even though … ..
Do the young of today qualify as a “golden age” ? It’s been 70 years since 1941, 75 since many European countries first felt Nazi effects. “We,” over 70, can relate these stories now, without primal emotion. “We” can tell now, without embarrassment about our sexual naivety; our youthful exuberance, complete ignorance, and male bull-headedness.

The writing of this story; a search for a dozen eggs(?); winds up stirring the reader’s souls with nationalistic patriotism, Russian patriotism(!), as we overcome the evil-doing bad guys. It stirs our loins, male and female alike with the wonders of teenage sex; the youthful honesty of touching, and kissing. Finally it stirs the passion of a rightful cause, which properly leads to a fated, perfect relationship; true love, sealed through adversity, forever. Finally, this book is a reminder that all “old” people, were once young, sensual, and adventurous with experiences that one can only imagine.

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Queen’s Gambit Declined, Sergiu Samarian, 1974, page 154 Move 22 …. R-K7 ! “This move commences a very interesting positional attack including an exchange sacrifice.” 23 B-Q3 R-B7 ! “It is clear that the rook retreat would result in a draw. Black has greater ambitions. The consequences of the exchange sacrifice were very difficult to calculate due to the fact that there are no direct threats.” 24. N-N2 B-K7 ! “White is forced to take the rook.” 25. BxR PxB; 26. B-K3 BxR; 27. KxB B-Q5 ! “Difficult to predict the outcome of a black win.” 28. BxB NxB; 29. R-B1 R-QB1

Sunday, July 25, 2010

The Yiddish Policemans Union



You won’t understand the movie, if you didn’t read the book.
Often said, but seldom true, at least if the director’s any good. In our case, it’s the murder victim’s chess board that presages the themes of this novel: intimate, sexual, national, and cosmic. But the chess player merely gets an early tantalizing whiff of what’s to come in this brilliant work of art.
Chabon hurls a macho-Ranger gauntlet, successfully challenging Chandler at mystery noir. No divorced and drunken shamus gets sapped over the head more frequently than ex-Detective Meyer Landsman; they’re always ex-detectives, who limp & hobble up more blind-alleys than a smack-addicted white rat.
So, I’m feebly attempting to match metaphors with Chabon. It’s not possible !.!.! He drops them like naked rice balls in protesting goose grease. There’s more in a single, at random page that I could think up in my whole three minutes. They are spiced up with delicious, mixed-culture adjectives and a hearty slurry of racial argot.
All this clap-trap was familiar ground for a goyim like me; a decade-serving husband/slave to a Jewish American Princess (New York, commie, Navy WWII WAVE); followed by a baseball season in Jerusalem, playing for the Israeli Air Force MOD blue & white; and sympathetic to finding a haven for Anatol Lein and Leonid Shamkovitch, both top ten world chess players from the USSR, but preferring the U.S.A. as a climate, specifically the 1976 football season, at Fiddler’s Green Chess Club & Book Salon in San Francisco.
So, the committed readers within our noon-ish midst, realize that after every clonk on the head, our cartoon Meyer, unlike the current NFL squads, suffers no concussive long-term effect; in fact, he may go on to have several healthy babies. We realize that good, will persevere over evil. The bad guys will disappear off the pages; a fate worse than death. And rising from the Mexican ashes, will be the glimmer of hope that yet another Meyer Landsman adventure will be penned for our entertainment; and maybe next time, Bina will get a mention on the back cover. This is the first good book in six years at the Guerneville Regional Library.
White mates in two moves