Bobby Fischer Goes to War : How the Soviets Lost the Most Extraordinary Chess Match of All Time

I was in a coffee shop last weekend when I noticed two men playing Chess near the cream and sugar counter. A small but intent group had huddled around their table quite captivated by the game. Memories of Bobby Fischer came to mind. I also watched the game for a while and then decided to visit my local bookstore and just by happenstance I saw "Bobby Fischer Goes to War" and picked up a copy. It is very interesting reading. Bobby Fischer's 1972 match with the Soviet Boris Spassky held in Reykjavik, Iceland is legendary. Spassky, the world chess champion, certainly seemed the gentleman and Fisher was billed as the young Chess prodigy. To me Chess was always a game played by elitists or other higher order members of the social ladder. In reality that is truly not the case. If there is anything elite about the game or those who play it, it is the social refinement that one takes away from the chess board. There is a certain amount of respect that one experiences and earns that should be used in a higher order of one's conduct as a person. From this book Spassky seems to fit that picture, but Bobby Fischer is anything but. Fischer had a deep intuitive intellect for the game but his social upbringing and behavior seemed rather crude and almost not worthy of the game. His behavior during the match seems embarrassing and nothing honorable as demonstrated by Spassky. Fischer seems to have learned none of finer aspects of being a participant and journeyman of the game. This is a good book and brings many avenues of thought ion this history making Chess match.

I was pleasantly surprised at this very urbane, almost panoramic, and far-sighted treatment of the clash of the two Titans of chess. The authors not only captured the essential elements of the decisive games that led to Fischer's stunning victory, but more importantly, they also did a masterful job of situating the meaning of the match in the political context of the times. Their parallel overlaying of the times with the events going on in Iceland, left us with an enduring picture of the tension of those troubled times, demonstrating how a single chess match managed to relieve much of it, if only for a brief spell. In the hands of these very skilled writers, a chess match became more than just a report on the World Championship, it became a metaphor of the Cold War: The clash in Iceland was as much a battle of ideas, political systems and ideologies as it was a parlor game waged with great skill, tension, and tenacity across a wooden board of 64 squares. Edmonds and Eidinow brought it all alive in grand, almost epic fashion -- from the humble beginnings of the players, and the idyllic surroundings in Reykjavik, to a resounding crescendo of fireworks at the last game of the grand finale in Iceland. Through this book, we are not just eye witnesses to history in the making, we are made to feel that we are a vicarious part of it! For chess lovers everywhere, this is the book to read if you want to know about the game, the particpants, the politics, the ideosyncracies and emotional ups-and-downs of the participants, as well as the events in the background in Reykjavik. A great read FIVE STARS!

A wonderfully absorbing cultural history that digs deep into the psyches of Boris and Bobby to present a Shakespearean tragedy of sorts. Superb research and access to the minor characters who probably best understood the event makes this a not to be missed chronicle of a lost age.

If Bobby Fischer's name is affiliated with a book, it comes to reason that there is some amount of weirdness forthcoming. I am not referring to the chess books Fischer wrote, as those are guidelines to chess perfection. This refers to any discussion of his life, which this book does. The world's greatest chess player, Fischer, has lived his personal life much less logically than his life is an eight by eight square cell. To help the nonchess reader sort out the menagerie, authors David Edmonds and John Eidinow provide a "Dramatis Personae," listing 21 Americans, 24 Soviets, six Icelanders, four match officials, and six sundry others, explaining their relationship to the Reykjavik, Iceland chess match. They also include a short glossary to educate us in the vocabulary of competitive chess. The book begins with a vital quote by Boris Spassky, "When you play Bobby, it is not a question of whether you win or lose. It is a question of whether you survive. This sets the tone for all that follows. Edmonds and Eidinow lay out the social mire Fischer was growing up in, and his quick rise to chess dominance. In 1954, when Fischer was 11, he was attending matches and doing well enough but not at his later prodigy level. In that year, as he is quoted, he "just got good." Modern chess history, or at least for one its most colorful characters, begins then. 1972: Boris Spassky was the champ. He deserved to be there. Bobby Fischer was the contender. He deserved to have the opportunity. Between these two men stood a world of complex politics, money, national pride, idiosyncrasies, and suitors to the game. Reykjavik, Iceland was the location of what has become one of the most legendary chess matches ever, between Spassky and Fischer. Early on during Fischer's career, he had the same impact Michael Jordan would later enjoy later enjoy as professional basketball player. "Fischer-fear" was the description of some players' psychosomatic illnesses from Fischer's intimidation. Opponents would make mistakes as a result. Fischer had the bravado of Muhammad Ali, but none of his class. He would take this personality and boorish demands to the match. Boris Spassky is painted differently. A product of the Soviet support system, he became professional about the game. Affable and popular, an opposite to in every way to Fischer, he still had what Fischer lacked -- the title "World Champion." The bulk of the book moves on from biography and personality profiles. It follows the path the chess culture -- all chaotic in its apparent systemic approach. Going from the need to compete to the actual match turned through every convoluted corner, with Kissinger's involvement, the FBI, the KGB, and as much intrigue as a James Bond movie. The travails of the match are outlined as needed (but not heavily), highlighting the most interesting parts and never boring nonchess players. The psychology of the players and chess players in general is discussed, as is the history of modern cha

For a brief time in 1972, chess was the only game in the world. Bobby Fischer came face to face with Boris Spassky in Iceland, and the world took delight in a simple morality play. Fischer was depicted as the lone American hero gunning to win the title from the Soviets who had held it for decades. The Cold War was reduced to the free world's champion versus the apparatchiks spawned by the Soviet socialist chess machine. It was fun to watch the battle in such black and white terms, but in _Bobby Fischer Goes to War: How the Soviets Lost the Most Extraordinary Chess Match of All Time_ (Ecco), David Edmonds and John Eidinow show that the true story was much more complicated although just as exciting. For instance, Spassky may have been a Russian patriot, but he was not a Soviet patriot and he was not a member of the Communist Party. Fischer was eccentric and asocial, and his bratty behavior seemed un-American to many of his fellow Americans. But both their governments had a stake in the match, and people all over the world who knew nothing about chess watched the contest carefully, and many took up the game. It was quite truly the most extraordinary chess match of all time, just as the book's subtitle says, and the book makes clear in how many ways it was extraordinary.Spassky loved the game for itself, and, as a well-rounded gentleman who liked fishing and festive parties with his friends, seemed sincerely to be looking forward to what he called "a feast of chess," win or lose. He admired Fischer, but the book shows that beyond a colossal talent for chess, Fischer possessed few admirable qualities. He was a morose man who one journalist said "was likely to greet even an old friend as if he were expecting a subpoena". His frequent tantrums (which earned him much derision from his compatriots) did, at least, stop when he sat down to play, and he never attempted to disturb an opponent across the table. He was called by Dr. Henry Kissinger when he did not show up for the match, assured that he was "our man up against the commies." Having lost the first game, he didn't even show up for the second, and thus lost it as well. But then he crushed Spassky in the third, and went on to a match full of hard-fought draws and wins, many of which are regarded as among the finest games ever played. President Nixon sent congratulations. Spassky eventually went into contented retirement in France, continuing to regard the Soviet chess administration with disdain. Fischer never defended his title, although he has played some exposition games. He went on to join a fundamentalist Christian church, then to denounce it as satanic. He may have been the American hope during the match, but he is now deeply anti-American, spouting anti-Semitic conspiracy theories (ironic, given his parentage on both sides, revealed here) to any radio station that will allow him voice. The authors have interviewed all the important officials involved who are still alive, esp