I've read plausible arguments that claim that the number of possible chess games - using only legal moves - exceeds the number of protons in the known universe.  As you ponder this idea, it may not be so difficult to believe that if someone were to try and actually comprehend each of those possible games they might eventually lose their mind.  In Endgame, biographer Frank Brady tells the story of Bobby Fischer, arguably the greatest chess player who ever lived and one of the most insane people about whom I've ever read.  

First, let me confess that I am not a chess player.  Sure, I know the rules and have played a bit, but never with even one iota of sophistication.  But the idea of being a good chess player certainly appeals to me and I'm intrigued by the idea that 64 spaces, 32 pieces and a limited number of simple rules can create such a complex, obsession inducing art form.  However, this book really isn't about chess and it doesn't offer anything that could make me a better player.

The book is about Mr. Robert J. Fischer, Chicago born and Brooklyn raised in rather impoverished circumstances.  Brady starts with Fischer's early years as an obvious prodigy, leading up to his first major breakthrough as US champion at age 14.  His further peregrinations in and out of the international chess world are discussed, culminating in one of the most notable events of the Cold War - the Fischer-Spassky match for the world championship in Iceland in 1972. 

A lifelong friend of Fischer and eyewitness to many of the events in the book, Brady tells the story with energy and enthusiasm, describing many of the signature matches with passion and revealing how very unique the man's mind truly was.  But, to his credit, he doesn't shy away from Fischer's less attractive post-championship life, when he gradually transforms into one of the most appalling misanthropes to ever walk the earth. 

It's quite painful to read at times, watching such a gifted individual devolve into such a selfish, infantile, greedy, bigoted, hate-filled ingrate, but Brady somehow keeps the story moving even though Fischer's antics can only repel and nauseate.  Please don't imagine that I somehow exaggerate as I've been trying to think of a more reprehensible public figure who wasn't responsible for killing or assaulting someone.  I have yet to succeed.

So, it may seem hard to understand why I enjoyed the book, but Brady does an excellent job of making the most of the mystery.  Why was Fischer the way he was?  Nobody claims that he was mentally ill.  He frequently received the most gracious assistance from colleagues and fans the world over.  He was adored by millions.  What was wrong with the guy?  Don't expect any epiphanies in this book, but Brady's persistent pursuit of these questions makes for captivating reading.

Endgame explores the mind of one of the most controversial and unpleasant figures of the 20th century in a consistently entertaining and enlightening manner.  Chess fans are certain to enjoy this, but even the chess simpleton will be engaged.  Check and mate for Frank Brady.

Recommended: Yes