The Two Grenadiers and the King's Gambit

October 28, 2007 at 7:57 PM

I've moved on to the next piece in a beginner's book called "The Two Grenadiers" by Schumann. I've listened to the song over and over on the CD. It sounds like an anthem. But the tricky thing is the rythm part. I have trouble with lots of things but the confounding one that gets me when I start a piece is rythm. When it goes from quarter notes to eighth notes to sixteenth notes, well it just goes haywire and my playing doesn't sound like the CD anymore. And, of course, there's a dot on top of the sixteenth note where you're told to lift the bow off the string to play it. And along with rythm I have to play the right notes and sound good too. Most troubling.

I wish all problematic issues of technique and musicality would just fall into place magically so I wouldn't have to suffer endlessly trying to play these songs.

So, as a diversion and to ward off frustration I read. The latest is called "King's Gambit" by Paul Hoffman.

The book is a memoir and is described as an "insider's look at the obsessive subculture of championship chess." As the book details, anyone who aspires to the pinnacle of their endeavor, one must practice their art nearly day and night. The prodigy, Bobby Fischer, was never known to have been seen without a chess set. Chess literally becomes their life:

"The thrill of competition, the euphoria of victory...its warlike struggle awakens the minds and bodies of people. 'Chess is like life,' Spassky once proclaimed. Fischer was more extreme: 'Chess is life.'"

It goes on as it details the quirks and eccentricites of chess players:

"So awkward, clumsy, poorly dressed and inarticulate that it is a wonder that any woman should find him attractive...I cannot help being reminded of one or two of my colleagues, who against all odds somehow enter into matrimony. Literally being unable to knot a tie or tie a shoelace is apparently no impediment with the fairer sex."

Also:

"Madness is rampant in championship chess...after all, to reach the pinnacle of chess requires a certain psychological stability...'Chess doesn't drive people mad. It keeps mad people sane.'"

"Because chess culture has turned a blind eye to how chess players dress of speak (or whether they can speak at all), chess culture is a haven for social misfits. For those who are inclined to escape from the rest of the world, chess offers its own rich world."

"Let's face it...there are more unbalanced people in chess than in your average profession of activity...but that's because the chess community is wonderfully accepting -- everyone is welcome to play and you don't need any social skills to succeed."

A fine, insightful and humorous book.

'Til next time, maybe I'll be on a another song, hopefully, or another book, maybe.

-Oliver

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on October 29, 2007 at 2:15 AM

The B part of Two Grenadiers sounds like an anthem because it is -- the Marseillaise.

From Stephen Brivati
Posted on October 29, 2007 at 4:29 AM

Greetings,
Freud described chess as a manifestation of am oedipul (can`t spell that..) desire to kill the father...
CHeer,s
Buri

From Stephen Brivati
Posted on October 29, 2007 at 4:30 AM

incidentally, one reason you may be having trouble with Schumann is you have the body of a dog....

From Oliver Quilala
Posted on October 30, 2007 at 2:13 AM

Ah, the Marseillaise. No wonder I'm having trouble playing it, I can't even pronounce it and, apparently, I have a body of a dog with paws as hands. If the reference to the dog is the picture on my bio, yes! That's my dog.

When I walk him I listen to the 2 Grenadiers song on the CD, all 1 minute & 29 seconds of it over and over. I don't know what's more tedious listening to the song nearly 15 times for the duration of the walk or picking up the dog's crap. Yup listening to the song over and over definitely takes the tedious prize.

You gotta love Freud. The "Oedipal Struggle" in the book "King's Gambit" states: "The goal was to render the king, the father figure, helpless through checkmate -- that is to sterilize him or in other words, castrate him. The unconscious motives actuating the players is not the mere love of pugnacity of all competitive games, but the grimmer one of father-murder."

The psychologist, very generously, also states the "latent homosexual and anal sadistic aggression directed at his own father...the evidence was the skill exhibited in 'attacking the king from behind.'"

Yup, that's our Freud. Can't be stated nor analyzed any better, nor any clearer, really its scientific.

A chess player once said to paraphrase: "Tightening the screws ever so gently like a vice until suffocating your opponent, nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, cornering them slowly. Slowly is the key." Ahh, bloodthirst and sadistic mayhem on the chessboard.

Well, it wasn't because of "father-murder" or sadism that in the past 6 months I've taken to chess, but because it's fun and addictive and a beautiful game.

Much like the violin, chess crystallizes certain things. Namely, humility. No beginner is immune. Humble pie is just around the corner. A screech of the violin here (and everywhere), a blunder of a move involving a beloved rook there, well, you've just been served.

But, in some instances there is a certain beauty when the gods smile at you once in a blue moon or so -- A beautifully turned ringing phrase that delights and leaves you gaggled and breathless with wonder. A well-thought out alignment of pawns and strategically placed knights and bishops that lead to a certain Napoleonic complex of invincibility and greatness and a win -- an outright crushing, if you will, of your foe.

But, yes, there are moments of temper tantrums, disbelief, shock, anger, frustration, a far-away vacant look, however, the violin and chess, hopefully, will also teach patience and perseverence.

Despite all the suffering of beginning such endeavors, I love the violin and chess because of the incremental moments of progress I make, believe it or not, and the outright joy I get from such moments. At my age, 36, I'll take it. Because as my doctor said, jokingly, long ago, "Once you turn 17, it's all downhill from there." I guess you can't teach an old pooch new tricks. Ha!

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The Two Grenadiers and the King's Gambit

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