Opinions, ego, self-importance; these things are staples of the world’s finest athletes, quite a few chessplayers, actors, business tycoons, and many couch potatoes who find a way to blot out reality and delude themselves into thinking that the general populace (or perhaps their small circle of friends) stares at them in awe.

Though an exaggerated sense of one’s value can be useful from time to time, if it blocks out the task at hand, or if it turns any mention of others in your field into a call for battle, then the individual possess a deep personal problem.

In the world of a reviewer, self-adoration is an unfortunate trait. I remember watching one famous TV personality review some science fiction flick. His first words were, “I hate science fiction in general, so I can’t recommend this film.”

I beg your pardon? People aren’t tuning in to hear about the reviewer’s favorite foods or what he likes or dislikes, they want to know whether the filmmakers succeeded in their representation of that particular genre. This also holds true for the review of chessbooks. I remember being appalled by a grandmaster reviewer who refused to talk about the content of a book (on the Taimanov Sicilian) by Burgess, saying that the English chess writer was too weak to properly represent his subject. While I can understand his anger at 1600’s daring to write chessbooks, he was widely missing the mark in the case of Burgess, who stands out as an excellent technical chess author (and I should add that the book in question was by far the best ever on that subject).

In relation to my own books, I’ve been raked over the coals on a few occasions. Of course, such criticism never feels good, but if it’s based on sound observations then you just have to suck it up and try to do better next time. However, when a reviewer trashes a book due to a difference in opinion, then one feels like calling your favorite hit-man and ridding the world of the offending pen.

I still quake in horror at one reviewer giving thumbs down to THE AMATEUR’S MIND (a book that I’m very proud of) by saying that I should have put the examples in order of rating, not order of theme (a moronic idea, in my opinion). Apparently, it never occurred to this blithering idiot that I had actually given thought to how my material was presented. But worse, does a reviewer really have the right to crush a book’s reputation because of some personal hiccup? For example, if a book has a blue cover, should the reviewer shred the book because he hates blue?

A very similar review appeared on the wonderful site, http://chesscafe.com/, where my THE REASSESS YOUR CHESS WORKBOOK came under scrutiny by Steven Winer: “Silman states that the problems in the book have a wide range of difficulties, and that is certainly the case. However, the problems should have been better organized. They are not sorted according to difficulty, and there is no identification of each problem’s degree of difficulty.”

Again, we have a case of a reviewer taking it for granted that the author is either lazy or stupid. For some reason, these so-called reviewers can’t imagine that the author might have taken their argument into consideration in the planning stage, and decided that his own design solution was superior. In the case of Mr. Winer, I can only say that I deliberately avoided placing the problems according to difficulty. Why? Because in a real playing situation nobody says, “Hey! You have an advantage, but the solution is really hard!”

At this point the reader might be asking, “What in the hell does all of this have to do with Aagaard’s book on the QID?” I’ll explain shortly, but first let me leap into the QUEEN’S INDIAN DEFENCE. This book is an example of the “crank them out quickly for profit” profile that I mentioned in an earlier review of the excellent SEVEN DEADLY CHESS SINS. Anyone who gives it some thought would realize that proper coverage of the QID would amount to many hundreds of pages. Unfortunately, this kind of thorough opening coverage has fallen by the wayside in favor of the shorter, shallow “what’s best for both sides” format.

But this too has little to do with Aagaard’s effort or with his book, since he was hired to write this study of the QID in the confines of a certain number of pages. The real question is, “Did he succeed in carrying out this task in a professional, instructive, and interesting manner?” Yes, I believe he did. Aagaard covers all critical lines with as much thoroughness as was possible with the size limitations imposed on him.

The ability to download the latest information about an opening, toss out useless material, and put it all together in a palatable, easy to understand form, speaks well for the author. However, Aagaard also brings other strengths to the table: he is good at explaining ideas and plans and he writes with humor.

I had a good time looking over Aagaard’s QUEEN’S INDIAN DEFENCE, and it helped me get a quick grasp of some of the latest developments in this opening (I no longer play or study, but I do try to keep abreast of what’s happening, and this kind of book makes this task easy and enjoyable).

In the past I’ve been kind to Aagaard’s books (and this is certainly no exception), but I have noticed one “quirk” that I tried not to mention, until now! When looking over the games of other players, criticizing a missed tactical opportunity is normal since we all make this kind of error. But trashing a professional player’s understanding of chess as a whole is insulting and ignorant. For some reason, Aagaard has a habit of talking down to many professional players in his books (and this has been pointed out to me by several titled players), and in some cases even insulting them. Whether this is due to a problem with his understanding of the English language, or due to the self-importance that I mentioned at the beginning of this review, I can’t say.

An example of this can be found on page 35 of his QUEEN’S INDIAN DEFENSE. Usually Aagaard’s choice of illustrative games is excellent, but here he makes use of Silman-Gheorghiu. What possessed him to dredge up this boring, badly played (My moves here bring to mind the rear end of a horse.), non-theoretical game is anyone’s guess, but his comment on move 12 (after 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nf3 b6 4.a3 c5 5.e3 Bb7 6.Nc3 cxd4 7.exd4 d5 8.cxd5 Nxd5 9.Bb5+ Bc6 10.Bd3 Nd7 11.0-0 Be7 12.Bd2) is uncalled for: “This clearly shows that White lacks sufficient understanding of the positions arising with the isolated pawn. 12.Qe2 is an improvement.”

This slur makes one believe that I had no idea what I was doing, while the great Aagaard’s penetrating insight enables him to see the amazingly deep 12.Qe2, while others would fail to do so. Why talk down to the player with White (in this case, me), when he could have simply said, “Not as good as the pedestrian but effective 12.Qe2 or 12.Re1.” See the difference? Both criticize 12.Bd2 (though 12.Bd2 isn’t that bad), but my version shows that White had an idea, saw 12.Qe2 and 12.Re1, but (for whatever reason) decided to try something else.

The fact is, ANY player of 1800 strength and up would instantly see 12.Qe2. To say that my not playing this Queen move shows that I “lacked sufficient understanding” is egotistical and/or deluded to the extreme.

After the further 12.Bd2 0–0 13.Rc1 Nxc3 14.Rxc3 Bb7 15.Bf4 Nf6 16.Be5 Rc8 17.Rxc8 Qxc8 18.Qb1 g6 19.Qc1, Aagaard says, “This looks just like a bad endgame, and guess what it is…?” Again, one gets the impression that I walked into this position in total ignorance, while Aagaard would have been astute enough to avoid this “mindless” Queen exchange at any cost. The truth of the matter is, I had decided that my usual kingside attacking chances were going nowhere, so I made the decision to force the exchange of Queens and Rooks (which makes it very hard for Black to put any pressure on my d-pawn) and, after a bit of suffering, gain a draw (Yes, that was my plan: suffer and then draw. Sometimes you have to swallow your pride and go for the half point!). In fact, Black’s advantage after 19…Qxc1 20.Rxc1 Nd5 21.Be4 is small and a draw should have been achieved if I didn’t get into horrible time pressure and play the rest of the endgame like a mental midget (strangely, this was my only loss in the tournament and I ended up tying for first).

To sum up, Aagaard’s QUEEN’S INDIAN DEFENCE is well worth buying if you play either side of this popular opening. As for Aagaard himself, he might want to be a bit less exuberant about trashing his fellow masters, reign in his ego, and come to the realization that players other than himself also know the basics.

YOU CAN FIND THIS BOOK AT