Your piece made me laugh out loud. The relationship between you and Carlo is fabulous and we all agree with you about the obsession with mental health even though we’re not allowed to discuss it . The solipsistic obsession with it means that real suffering is overshadowed by the belief that we should all be happy with our lot most of the time when real life is much more nuanced.
In a game of chess between intellectual equals, it is often age that becomes the determining factor. The young mind races to build empires. It is commonly in several places at once and doing several different things. The old head narrows the world down to a singularity. Entire kingdoms of dust slip through absently-spread fingers, while it holds onto whatever it can.
All but the most insufferable of contrarians would agree that Todor Galchev was never at the pinnacle of the game – he was never a grandmaster, nor was he ever expected to rise to that illustrious position. Nonetheless, in his heyday, he was an interesting player to watch; somewhat less so to study. There is a very specific type of successful individual who is eventually undone by the same quality that was the making of them. The pendulum swings first one way and then the other. Galchev, during those games he contested in his early 20s, conveyed a style reminiscent of the military parade ground, that set him apart from the abstractions of the other up and comers. This would eventually become a handicap that undermined his development. I strongly suspect that what separates the also-rans from the champions, in any field, is that rare ability to completely relearn a skill almost from the ground up, when an old way of doing things no longer bears fruit.
Galchev's footnote-legacy in the annuls of the game will be the Todor Corridor, which Liski described derisively as a “trick shot”, since there is a strong air contrivance about the manoeuvre, which requires a measure of subconscious cooperation/ignorance from an opponent. It was astonishing the first time he sprang it on Jock Fowley, who never fully recovered from the humiliation. It is one thing to beat a man and quite another to do so in a manner that seems mutually choreographed.
Galchev was slipping down the rankings when he suffered his accident. A witness described it as a ballet dancer's leap from the open door of an Amsterdam cafe, into the path of an oncoming tram, so stylish in its execution that it looked almost planned and rehearsed in advance. Galchev claimed there were traffic lights in his favour, but there have never been any such lights on that spot. He lost the use of his legs and right arm, but retained partial control of his left hand. During his recovery, as he played chess with his carers and any visitors who came by, he noticed that his hand would commonly disobey his mental commands and move different pieces to different areas of the board. It was Vilma Eden (with whom I believe you are acquainted) watching one such game from the sidelines, who remarked that he was playing much like his younger self. Her observation was confirmed by spectators during some exhibition matches that were played by Galchev to raise money to cover the expense of his treatment. The audience, who had come prepared to applaud him no matter the outcome of the games, came away electrified by his performance.
Why then did Galchev not re-enter the professional arena and luxuriate in his Indian summer? In a thorny interview that he gave to En Passant magazine, he describes his recovery as a 'forced renaissance'; that it was not him who was playing, but a younger version of himself, who had returned to join the ranks of the many others who now routinely made decisions on his behalf. “I have been robbed of the opportunity to be wrong,” he laments.
I was interested to read that Galchev has formed a close friendship with Maksym Melnyk, who was paralysed by a stroke, but who retains some control over his right arm. He too has found his game usurped by a younger version of himself. The pair are both resident in the Bulgarian capital, Sofia. They convene on what Melnyk humorously describes as “play dates” several times a week. Galchev has purchased a trophy that they compete for - a plastic replica of FA World Cup, that he saw for sale in the window of a second-hand shop while on his way to his opponent's home.
There they both sit, in the kitchen of one or the other's apartment: Two young men in old bodies, settling the scores of empires that have long fallen into decline.
This is a very stimulating piece. I mean mentally. Emotionally. It's great that you can write so brilliantly so much of the time. Enjoying your book down to the last drop. Have to edit this comment.to add that I always wished I had huge hooters like those on the lady- but didn't. Nice photo. Can't play chess either. But have many other qualities ,don't we all? Me me me.
I could never beat my dad. When I was a kid, he would finish my puzzles and my poems. When I started to write short stories and get them published, he started to write for Mills and Boon. It was liberating for me when they sent his manuscripts back. But I was in my 50s by then.
“So, I have to say, I am thrilled if teachers present their pupils with more up-to-date works by authors like myself and Zadie Smith, for example. It is important that there are British writers of colour on the curriculum as an example to young people of what the possibilities are when it comes to storytelling.”
Haha - I am so glad you added those last two sentences to your answer to Sophie's question. Otherwise, I might have reconsidered teaching your work at university :)) Isn't reading literature always delightful and educational in one way or another, no matter where we read it? Prodesse et delectare can happen anywhere: in a theatre, outside or inside a classroom - an environment that I have found can be anything but sterile (at least in Germany, where discussion and debate are an integral part of literary studies).
As a musician who sometimes writes scored music for trained 'classical' musicians, I have often wondered why the concept of 'editing' such scores (let alone the ongoing version described here) does not exist. No editor ever said to Schubert can we cut the repeats, bit boring tbh, or to Schumann, do we really need another variation on the theme? I think we've had enough don't you and it is a bit boring anyway, not your best. I wouldn't remove pop music from such an idea either.
As for mental health what makes me laugh is when people simply say, negatively. 'I've got mental health'. Of course the obsession with it is ridiculous.
Thank you for answering my question Hanif about parting- it made me chortle. And yes, the unsavoury possibility of being hugged by professional footballers when you triumph, is a number one reason not to become one.
We talk about our physical health (some of us more than others) so why not give our mental health equal attention? I'd like to hug Slabhead, I bet he's a good hugger x
Your piece made me laugh out loud. The relationship between you and Carlo is fabulous and we all agree with you about the obsession with mental health even though we’re not allowed to discuss it . The solipsistic obsession with it means that real suffering is overshadowed by the belief that we should all be happy with our lot most of the time when real life is much more nuanced.
What a pic! Even a grandmaster might be thrown off their game : )
Eve Babitz versus Marcel Duchamp..
In a game of chess between intellectual equals, it is often age that becomes the determining factor. The young mind races to build empires. It is commonly in several places at once and doing several different things. The old head narrows the world down to a singularity. Entire kingdoms of dust slip through absently-spread fingers, while it holds onto whatever it can.
All but the most insufferable of contrarians would agree that Todor Galchev was never at the pinnacle of the game – he was never a grandmaster, nor was he ever expected to rise to that illustrious position. Nonetheless, in his heyday, he was an interesting player to watch; somewhat less so to study. There is a very specific type of successful individual who is eventually undone by the same quality that was the making of them. The pendulum swings first one way and then the other. Galchev, during those games he contested in his early 20s, conveyed a style reminiscent of the military parade ground, that set him apart from the abstractions of the other up and comers. This would eventually become a handicap that undermined his development. I strongly suspect that what separates the also-rans from the champions, in any field, is that rare ability to completely relearn a skill almost from the ground up, when an old way of doing things no longer bears fruit.
Galchev's footnote-legacy in the annuls of the game will be the Todor Corridor, which Liski described derisively as a “trick shot”, since there is a strong air contrivance about the manoeuvre, which requires a measure of subconscious cooperation/ignorance from an opponent. It was astonishing the first time he sprang it on Jock Fowley, who never fully recovered from the humiliation. It is one thing to beat a man and quite another to do so in a manner that seems mutually choreographed.
Galchev was slipping down the rankings when he suffered his accident. A witness described it as a ballet dancer's leap from the open door of an Amsterdam cafe, into the path of an oncoming tram, so stylish in its execution that it looked almost planned and rehearsed in advance. Galchev claimed there were traffic lights in his favour, but there have never been any such lights on that spot. He lost the use of his legs and right arm, but retained partial control of his left hand. During his recovery, as he played chess with his carers and any visitors who came by, he noticed that his hand would commonly disobey his mental commands and move different pieces to different areas of the board. It was Vilma Eden (with whom I believe you are acquainted) watching one such game from the sidelines, who remarked that he was playing much like his younger self. Her observation was confirmed by spectators during some exhibition matches that were played by Galchev to raise money to cover the expense of his treatment. The audience, who had come prepared to applaud him no matter the outcome of the games, came away electrified by his performance.
Why then did Galchev not re-enter the professional arena and luxuriate in his Indian summer? In a thorny interview that he gave to En Passant magazine, he describes his recovery as a 'forced renaissance'; that it was not him who was playing, but a younger version of himself, who had returned to join the ranks of the many others who now routinely made decisions on his behalf. “I have been robbed of the opportunity to be wrong,” he laments.
I was interested to read that Galchev has formed a close friendship with Maksym Melnyk, who was paralysed by a stroke, but who retains some control over his right arm. He too has found his game usurped by a younger version of himself. The pair are both resident in the Bulgarian capital, Sofia. They convene on what Melnyk humorously describes as “play dates” several times a week. Galchev has purchased a trophy that they compete for - a plastic replica of FA World Cup, that he saw for sale in the window of a second-hand shop while on his way to his opponent's home.
There they both sit, in the kitchen of one or the other's apartment: Two young men in old bodies, settling the scores of empires that have long fallen into decline.
this - on chess - on fatherhood - on mental health - is brilliant.
The chess conversation piece with Carlo - brilliant.
This is a very stimulating piece. I mean mentally. Emotionally. It's great that you can write so brilliantly so much of the time. Enjoying your book down to the last drop. Have to edit this comment.to add that I always wished I had huge hooters like those on the lady- but didn't. Nice photo. Can't play chess either. But have many other qualities ,don't we all? Me me me.
Another great piece You even manage to make chess interesting.
I could never beat my dad. When I was a kid, he would finish my puzzles and my poems. When I started to write short stories and get them published, he started to write for Mills and Boon. It was liberating for me when they sent his manuscripts back. But I was in my 50s by then.
Loved this one too.
“So, I have to say, I am thrilled if teachers present their pupils with more up-to-date works by authors like myself and Zadie Smith, for example. It is important that there are British writers of colour on the curriculum as an example to young people of what the possibilities are when it comes to storytelling.”
Haha - I am so glad you added those last two sentences to your answer to Sophie's question. Otherwise, I might have reconsidered teaching your work at university :)) Isn't reading literature always delightful and educational in one way or another, no matter where we read it? Prodesse et delectare can happen anywhere: in a theatre, outside or inside a classroom - an environment that I have found can be anything but sterile (at least in Germany, where discussion and debate are an integral part of literary studies).
Thanks for answering my questions, Hanif. Will investigate your suggestions!
That photo is an interesting choice.
FELICES Y GRACIAS HOW TO REAT YOUR DAD
As a musician who sometimes writes scored music for trained 'classical' musicians, I have often wondered why the concept of 'editing' such scores (let alone the ongoing version described here) does not exist. No editor ever said to Schubert can we cut the repeats, bit boring tbh, or to Schumann, do we really need another variation on the theme? I think we've had enough don't you and it is a bit boring anyway, not your best. I wouldn't remove pop music from such an idea either.
As for mental health what makes me laugh is when people simply say, negatively. 'I've got mental health'. Of course the obsession with it is ridiculous.
Thank you for answering my question Hanif about parting- it made me chortle. And yes, the unsavoury possibility of being hugged by professional footballers when you triumph, is a number one reason not to become one.
We talk about our physical health (some of us more than others) so why not give our mental health equal attention? I'd like to hug Slabhead, I bet he's a good hugger x