Everything/Anything and…Chess…"Despite the documented evidence by chess historian HJR Murray, I've always thought that chess was invented by a goddess"–George Koltanowski: from the foreword to:"Women in chess, players of the Modern Age"
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture’s sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,
A closet never pierc’d with crystal eyes
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To side this title is impannelled
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eye’s moiety, and the dear heart’s part:
As thus; mine eye’s due is thy outward part,
And my heart’s right, thy inward love of heart.
Shakespeare
Have fun and create your own Wordlehere. The link will open in a new window. Follow the link and copy/paste your text and…voila! This is my Shakespeare contribution and I hope you enjoy it too!
Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no, it is an ever-fixèd mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his heighth be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
I’ve come across this interesting information. I hope you will also enjoy the first Chess book that was published in English. I’ve found a couple of interesting links for you too, hoover over the links with your mouse and you will see what you’ll get to look at. The links will all open in new windows. What I also found interesting about the book is that Caxton explained every single pawn separately and not pawns in general. You will see on the different pages where he wrote about the pawn, he mentioned e.g. “the fourth pawn before the King”…etc. This is “olde” English…so I guess a bit “different” to read. I’ve only uploaded a few pages for you, on the link you will find all the others. It’s worth to follow all the links if you’re really interested in this book.
The first book printed in English The first book which Caxton produced in the Low Countries was The Recuyell of the Histories of Troy, translated by himself from the French original of Raoul Lefèvre. He had begun the translation in 1469, taken it further at the behest of Margaret of York, the Duchess of Burgundy, continued the work in Ghent, and completed it in Cologne on 9 September 1471. This was the first book ever to be printed in English.
The book is a collection of stories very loosely based on the tales of the Trojan Wars. Caxton aimed for a court readership. Stories of war, knightly exploits and love were popular courtly reading. To ensure that his book also looked appealing to his readers, he had a new typeface created, closely based on the handwriting used in manuscripts made for the Burgundian court. In all probability the type was created by Johann Veldener, who had also made Caxton’s Cologne type.While in the Low Countries he printed another book in English, The Play of Chess. It was also translated by Caxton himself, from Jean de Vignay’s French translation of Jacobus de Cessolis’s Latin original. This is Caxton’s first dated work, finished 31 March 1474.The Play of Chess was another text popular at the Burgundian court, an allegory of fixed social structures where each rank has its allotted role. This book was dedicated to George, Duke of Clarence, the brother of Edward IV and, perhaps more importantly, of Margaret of York, who promoted the cause of her favourite brother, the ‘false, fleeting, perjured Clarence’, as he is described in Shakespeare’s Richard III. Not surprisingly, given Clarence’s fall from grace, the dedication does not appear in the second edition of the book dated c.1483.
De Ludo Scachorum was first translated into French in 1347. In 1474, 2 years before it was printed in French, William Caxton translated the text from the French (of Jean de Vignay) into English and printed it under the title, The Game of Chess.
The Game of Chess was the second book printed in the English language. The first book, also printed by Claxton was The Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye, also translated from French (of Raoul le Fèvre) and also in 1474. Caxton printed almost 100 books, and of these 20 were translations from French or Dutch into English.
The Game of Chess has the second distinction of being the first book to be reprinted! The second printing of the book in 1483 had an interesting sidebar. It was printed in Westminster. The first edition was printed in Bruges where Caxton had been politically involved in the local merchant’s association. He had ingratiated himself with Margaret, the Duchess of York, the sister of King Edward IV – in fact it was under her urging that he translated The Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye to begin with. The book was dedicated to Edward’s son and Margaret’s brother – George, Duke of Clarence by his humble and unknown servant, William Caxton. Claxton set up a press in Westminster in 1476 and, when in 1483 he reprinted the book, he praises the book in the dedication for it’s moral value and …woodcut illustrations but doesn’t mention George who happened to have been beheaded for treason in 1478. sbchess.sinfree.net/printing.html
16th Century Chess Literature
By the beginning of the 16th century, the new Queen and Bishop were well accepted in Spain and the option of moving the pawn 2 squares on the first move was common – as demonstrated in the Valencian poem Eschacs d’amor which was written probably around 1490. This is a manuscript, not a printed book but it’s importance lies in its revelations not in its influence. Castling and Queening of pawns were still in the future but for all intents and purposes, modern chess had arrived. Eschacs d’amor is very important historically because it contains the first recorded instance of a chess game using modern moves. The poem was a joint effort among three Valencian poets: Francí de Castellví, Narcís Vinyoles and Bernat Fenollar who each play the part of Mars, Venus and Mercury respectively in the 576 lined poem. In the poem Mars is playing Venus for her love in a game of chess while Mercury arbitrates. All three of these men were active members in the literary and chess circles in Valencia and because of that a lot is known about them and because a lot is known about them, this work is a key element to understanding the origins of modern chess. The game itself was probably manufactured for the purpose of the poem.
The game contains 21 moves for white and 20 for black – a ply count of 41. The poem contains 21 stanzas: Mars with the red pieces, has 21 stanzas; Venus with the green pieces has 20; Mercury, the arbitrator, also has 20 stanzas; there are 3 introductory stanzas – totaling 64 stanza (9 lines each, totaling 576 lines). The Game
[Event “Scachs d’amor”]
[Site “Valencia”]
[Date “1490.?.?”]
[White “Castellvi, Francisco -Mars”]
[Black “Vinoles, Narcisco -Venus”]
[ECO “B01”]
[PlyCount “41”]
[Result “1-0”]
She was created in a poem called Caïssa written in 1763 by English poet and philologist Sir William Jones.
Scacchia ludus was the basis for the poem written by William Jones in 1763. While Scacchis may have been the first Goddess of Chess, Caïssa is certainly the most famous and sustaining. In the poem Caïssa, Mars becomes infatuated with a nymph named Caïssa but she does not return the favor and is in fact a bit repulsed by the God of War. Not one to give up the fight, Mars enlists the aid of an ally, Euphron, the God of Sports and Games. Euphon creates the game of chess and designs a beautiful and elaborate board and chess set for Mars to give to Caïssa. In the poem, Mars gains Caïssa’s attention this way and teaches her how to play. As the game progresses, Caïssa’s resistance wears down and in the end, Mars wins more than just the game. But Caïssa wins eternal fame.
…fram’d a tablet of celestial mold,
Inlay’d with squares of silver and of gold;
Then of two metals form’d the warlike band,
That here compact in show of battle stand;
He taught the rules that guide the pensive game,
And call’d it Caissa from the dryad’s name:
(Whence Albion’s sons, who most its praise confess,
Approv’d the play, and nam’d it thoughtful Chess.)
Mars then presents the game of chess to Caissa in an attempt to win her affection.
For chess players, Caissa is often invoked as a source of inspiration or luck, e.g. “Caissa was with me in that game.”
Image: sbchess.sinfree.net
Caissa is also spelled Caïssa.
Caïssa is quite frequently referred to in chess commentary. Garry Kasparov uses this reference now and again, especially in his epic volume My Great Predecessors. It is used as a substitute for being lucky – “Caïssa was with me” – especially in unclear situations, for example in sacrifices. Caïssa as a concept has also been explored by some who seek the evidence of the sacred feminine in chess. The first (Russian) computer program that won the World Computer Chess Championship (in 1974) was also named Caïssa.
On this next link – which will open in a new window – you will also find a bit of info about Caïssa and a link to mythology-images.
The poem is based on Scacchia ludus (‘The Game of Chess’) written in 1510 by Marco Girolamo Vida– an Italian poet and later Bishop of Alba – where the nymph is called Scacchis. Jones also published an English language version of the poem.
CAISSA or
The Game at Chess- a Poem.
(written in the year 1763, by Sir William Jones)
(pronounced ky-eé-sah)
Of armies on the chequer’d field array’d,
And guiltless war in pleasing form display’d;
When two bold kings contend with vain alarms,
In ivory this, and that in ebon arms;
Sing, sportive maids, that haunt the sacred hill
Of Pindus, and the fam’d Pierian rill.
Thou, joy of all below, and all above,
Mild Venus, queen of laughter, queen of love;
Leave thy bright island, where on many a rose
And many a pink thy blooming train repose:
Assist me, goddess! since a lovely pair
Command my song, like thee devinely fair.
Near yon cool stream, whose living waters play,
And rise translucent in the solar ray;
Beneath the covert of a fragrant bower,
Where spring’s nymphs reclin’d in calm retreat,
And envying blossoms crouded round their seat;
Here Delia was enthron’d, and by her side
The sweet Sirena, both in beauty’s pride:
Thus shine two roses, fresh with early bloom,
That from their native stalk dispense perfume;
Their leaves unfolding to the dawning day
Gems of the glowing mead, and eyes of May.
A band of youths and damsels sat around,
Their flowing locks with braided myrtle bound;
Agatis, in the graceful dance admir’d,
And gentle Thyrsis, by the muse inspir’d;
With Sylvia, fairest of the mirthful train;
And Daphnis, doom’d to love, yet love in vain.
Now, whilst a purer blush o’erspreads her cheeks,
With soothing accents thus Sirena speaks:
“The meads and lawns are ting’d with beamy light,
And wakeful larks begin their vocal flight;
Whilst on each bank the dewdrops sweetly smile;
What sport, my Delia, shall the hours beguile?
Whall heavenly notes, prolong’d with various art,
Charm the fond ear, and warm the rapturous heart?
At distance shall we view the sylvan chace?
Or catch with silken lines the finny race?”
Then Delia thus: “Or rather, since we meet
By chance assembled in this cool retreat,
In artful contest let our warlike train
Move well-directed o’er the field preside:
No prize we need, our ardour to inflame;
We fight with pleasure, if we fight for fame.”
The nymph consents: the maids and youths prepare
To view the combat, and the sport to share:
But Daphnis most approv’d the bold design,
Whom Love instructed, and the tuneful Nine.
He rose, and on the cedar table plac’d
A polish’d board, with differing colours grac’d;
Squares eight times eight in equal order lie;
These bright as snow, those dark with sable dye;
Like the broad target by the tortoise born,
Or like the hide by spotted panthers worn.
Then from a chest, with harmless heroes stor’d,
O’er the smooth plain two well-wrought hosts he pour’d;
The champions burn’d their rivals to assail,
Twice eight in black, twice eight in milkwhite mail;
In shape and station different, as in name,
Their motions various, not their power the same.
Say, muse! (for Jove has nought from thee conceal’d)
Who form’d the legions on the level field?
High in the midst the reverend kings appear,
And o’er the rest their pearly scepters rear:
One solemn step, majestically slow,
They gravely move, and shun the dangerous foe;
If e’er they call, the watchful subjects spring,
And die with rapture if they save their king;
On him the glory of the day depends,
He once imprison’d, all the conflict ends.
The queens exulting near their consorts stand;
Each bears a deadly falchion in her hand;
Now here, now there, they bound with furious pride,
And thin the trmbling ranks from side to side;
Swift as Camilla flying o’er the main,
Or lightly skimming o’er the dewy plain:
Fierce as they seem, some bold Plebeian spear
May pierce their shield, or stop their full career.
The valiant guards, their minds on havock bent,
Fill the next squares, and watch the royal tent;
Tho’ weak their spears, tho’ dwarfish be their height,
Compact they move, the bulwark of the fight,
To right and left the martial wings display
Their shining arms, and stand in close array.
Behold, four archers, eager to advance,
Send the light reed, and rush with sidelong glance;
Through angles ever they assault the foes,
True to the colour, which at first they chose.
Then four bold knights for courage-fam’d and speed,
Each knight exalted on a prancing steed:
Their arching course no vulgar limit knows,
Tranverse they leap, and aim insidious blows:
Nor friends, nor foes, their rapid force restrain,
By on quick bound two changing squares they gain;
From varing hues renew the fierce attack,
And rush from black to white, from white to black.
Four solemn elephants the sides defend;
Benearth the load of ponderous towers they bend:
In on unalter’d line they tempt the fight;
Now crush the left, and now o’erwhelm the right.
Bright in the front the dauntless soldiers raise
Their polish’d spears; their steely helmets blaze:
Prepar’d they stand the daring foe to strike,
Direct their progress, but their wounds oblique.
Now swell th’ embattled troups with hostile rage,
And clang their shields, impatient to engage;
When Daphnis thus: A varied plain behold,
Where fairy kings their mimick tents unfold,
As Oberon, and Mab, his wayward queen,
Lead forth their armies on the daisied green.
No mortal hand the wond’rous sport contriv’d,
By gods invents, and from gods deriv’d;
From them the British nymphs receiv’d the game,
And play ech morn beneath the crystal Thame;
Hear then the tale, which they to Colin sung,
As idling o’er the lucid wave he hung.
A lovely dryad rang’d the Thracian wild,
Her air enchanting, and her aspect mild:
To chase the bounding hart was all her joy,
Averse from Hymen, and the Cyprian boy;
O’er hills an valleys was her beauty fam’d,
And fair Caissa was the damsel nam’d.
Mars saw the maid; with deep surprize he gaz’d,
Admir’d her shape, and every gesture prais’d:
His golden bow the child of Venus bent,
And through his breast a piecing arrow sent.
The reed was hope; the feathers, keen desire;
The point, her eyes; the barbs, ethereal fire.
Soon to the nymph he pour’d his tender strain;
The haughtly dryad scorn’d his amorous pain:
He told his woes, where’er the maid he found,
And still he press’d, yet still Caissa frown’d;
But ev’n her frowns (ah, what might smiles have done!)
Fir’d all his soul, and all his senses won.
He left his car, by raging tigers drawn,
And lonely wander’d o’er the dusky lawn;
Then lay desponding near a murmuring stream,
And fair Caissa was his plaintive theme.
A naiad heard him from her mossy bed,
And through the crystal rais’d her placid head;
Then mildly spake: “O thou, whom love inspires,
Thy tears will nourish, not allay thy fires.
The smiling blossoms drink the pearly dew;
And ripening fruit the feather’d race pursue;
The scaly shoals devour the silken weeds;
Love on our sighs, and on our sorrow feeds.
Then weep no more; but, ere thou canst obtain
Balm to thy wounds, and solace to thy pain,
With gentle art thy martial look beguile;
Be mild, and teach thy rugged brow to smile.
Canst thou no play, no soothing game devise;
To make thee lovely in the damsel’s eyes?
So may thy prayers assuage the scornful dame,
And ev’n Caissa own a mutual frame.”
Kind nymph, said Mars, thy counsel I approve;
Art, only art, her ruthless breast can move.
but when? or how? They dark discourse explain:
So may thy stream ne’er swell with gushing rain;
So may thy waves in one pure current flow,
And flowers eternal on thy border blow!”
To whom the maid replied with smiling mien:
“Above the palace of the Paphian queen
Love’s brother dwells, a boy of graceful port,
By gods nam’d Euphron, and by mortals Sport:
Seek him; to faithful ears unfold thy grief,
And hope, ere morn return, a sweet relief.
His temple hangs below the azure skies;
Seest thou yon argent cloud? ‘Tis there it lies.”
This said, she sunk beneath the liquid plain,
And sought the mansion of her blue-hair’d train.
Meantime the god, elate with heart-felt joy,
Had reach’d the temple of the sportful boy;
He told Caissa’s charms, his kindled fire,
The naiad’s counsel, and his warm desire.
“Be swift, he added, give my passion aid;
A god requests.” – He spake, and Sport obey’d.
He fram’d a tablet of celestial mold,
Inlay’d with squares of silver and ofgold;
Then of two metals form’d the warlike band,
That here compact in show of battle stand;
He taught the rules that guide the pensive game,
And call’d it Cassa from the dryad’s name:
(Whence Albion’s sons, who most its praise confess,
Approv’d the play, and nam’d it thoughtful Chess.)
The god delighted thank’d indulgent Sport;
Then grasp’d the board, and left his airy court.
With radiant feet he pierc’d the clouds; nor stay’d,
Till in the woods he saw the beauteous maid:
Tir’d with the chase the damsel set reclin’d,
Her girdle loose, her bosom unconfin’d.
He took the figure of a wanton faun,
And stood before her on the flowery lawn;
Then show’d his tablet: pleas’d the nymph survey’d
The lifeless troops in glittering ranks display’d;
She ask’d the wily sylvan to explain
The various motions of the splendid train;
With eager heart she caught the winning lore,
And thought ev’n Mars less hateful than before;
“What spell,” said she, “deceiv’d my careless mind?
The god was fair, and I was most unkind.”
She spoke, and saw the changing faun assume
A milder aspect, and a fairer bloom;
His wreathing horns, that from his temples grew,
Flow’d down in curls of bright celestial hue;
The dappled hairs, that veil’d his loveless face,
Blaz’d into beams, and show’d a heavenly grace;
The shaggy hide, that mantled o’er his breast,
Was soften’d to a smooth transparent vest,
That through its folds his vigorous bosom show’d,
And nervous limbs, where youthful ardour glow’d:
(Had Venus view’d him in those blooming charms,
Not Vulcan’s net had forc’d her from his arms.)
With goatlike feet no more he mark’d the ground,
But braided flowers his silken sandals bound.
The dryad blush’d; and, as he press’d her, smil’d,
Whilst all his cares one tender glance beguil’d.
He ends: To arms, the maids and striplings cry;
To arms, the groves and sounding vales reply.
Sirena led to war the swarthy crew,
And Delia those that bore the lily’s hue.
Who first, O muse, began the bold attack;
The white refulgent, or the mournful black?
Fair Delia first, as favoring lots ordain,
Moves her pale legions tow’rd the sable train:
From thought to thought her lively fancy flies,
Whilst o’er the board she darts her sparkling eyes.
At length the warrior moves with haughty strides;
Who from the plain the snowy king divides:
With equal haste his swarthy rival bounds;
His quiver rattles, and his buckler sounds:
Ah! hapless youths, with fatal warmth you burn;
Laws, ever fix’d, forbid you to return.
then from the wing a short-liv’d spearman flies,
Unsafely bold, and see! he dies, he dies:
The dark-brow’d hero, with one vengeful blow
Of life and place deprives his ivory foe.
Now rush both armies o’er the burnish’d field,
Hurl the swift dart, and rend the bursting shield.
Here furious knights on fiery coursers prance,
but see! the white-rob’d Amazon beholds
Where the dark host its opening van unfolds:
Soon as her eye discerns the hostile maid,
By ebon shield, and ebon helm betray’d;
Seven squares she passed with majestic mien,
And stands triumphant o’er the falling queen.
Perplex’d, and sorrowing at his consort’s fate,
The monarch burn’d with rage, despair, and hate:
Swift from his zone th’ avenging blade he drew,
And, mad with ire, the proud virago slew.
Meanwhile sweet smiling Delia’s wary king
Retir’d from fight behind the circling wing.
Long time the war in equal balance hung;
Till, unforseen, an ivory courser sprung,
And, wildly prancing in an evil hour,
Attack’d at once the monarch and the tower:
Sirena blush’d; for, as the rules requir’d,
Her injur’d sovereign to his tent retir’d;
Whilst her lost castle leaves his threatening height,
And adds new glory to th’ exulting knight.
At this, pale fear oppress’d the drooping maid,
And on her cheek the rose began to fade:
A crystal tear, that stood prepar’d to fall,
She wip’d in silence, and conceal’d from all;
From all but Daphnis; He remark’d her pain,
And saw the weakness of her ebon train;
Then gently spoke: “Let me your loss supply,
And either nobly win, or nobly dir;
Me oft has fortune crown’d with fair success,
And led to triumph in the fields ofChess.”
He said: the willing nymph her place resign’d,
And sat at distance on the bank reclin’d.
Thus when Minerva call’d her chief to arms,
And Troy’s high turret shook with dire alarms,
The Cyprian goddess wounded left the plain,
And Mars engag’d a mightier force in vain.
Strait Daphnis leads his squadron to the field;
(To Delia’s arms ’tis ev’n a joy to yield.)
Each guileful snare, and subtle art he tries,
But finds his heart less powerful than her eyes:
Wisdom and strength superior charms obey;
And beauty, beauty, wins the long-fought day.
By this a hoary chief, on slaughter bent,
Approach’d the gloomy king’s unguarded tent;
Where, late, his consort spread dismay around,
Now her dark corse lies bleeding on the ground.
Hail, happy youth! they glories not unsung
Shall live eternal on the poet’s tongue;
For thou shalt soon receive a splendid change,
And o’er the plain with nobler fury range.
The swarthy leaders saw the storm impend,
And strove in vain their sovereign to defend:
Th’ invader wav’d his silver lance in air,
And flew like lightning to the fatal square;
His limbs dilated in a moment grew
To stately height, and widen’d to the view;
More fierce his look, more lion-like his mien,
Sublime he mov’d, and seem’d a warrior queen.
As when the sage on some unfolding plant
Has caught a wandering fly, or frugal ant,
His hand the microscopic frame applies,
And lo! a bright hair’d monster meets his eyes;
He sees new plumes in slender cases roll’d;
Here stain’d with azure, there bedropp’d with gold;
Thus, on the alter’d chief both armies gaze,
And both the kings are fix’d with deep amaze.
The sword, which arm’d the snow-white maid before,
He noew assumes, and hurls the spear no more;
The springs indignant on the dark-rob’d band,
And knights and archers feel his deadly hand.
Now flies the monarch of the sable shield,
His legions vanquish’d, o’er the lonely field:
So when the morn, by rosy coursers drawn,
With pearls and rubies sows the verdant lawn,
Whilst each pale star from heaven’s blue vault retires,
Still Venus gleams, and last of all expires.
He hears, where’er he moves, the dreadful sound;
Check the deep vales, and Check the woods rebound.
No place remains: he sees the certain fate,
And yields his throne to ruin, and Checkmate.
A brighter blush o’erspreads the damsel’s cheeks,
And mildly thus the conquer’d stripling speaks:
“A double triumph, Delia, hast thou won,
By Mars protected, and by Venus’ son;
The first with conquest crowns thy matchless art,
The second points those eyes at Daphnis’ heart.”
She smil’d; the nymphs and amorous youths arise,
And own that beauty gain’d the nobler prize.
Low in their chest the mimic troops were lay’d,
And peaceful slept the sable hero’s shade
I think Caïssa was with me in this game…haha.. I played against one of my all time favourite players. We always have five games going at any one time and I always try to save my Knights. In this end position, you can see why I do save them whenever I can. I know most players prefer Bishops, but I always prefer my Knights! See the pgn-file which I’ve copied here to look at.
Now, for another all-time-favourite…the music of Ravel…the ostinato from Bolero, though I do apologise for the funny sound you will hear.
Boléro became Ravel’s most famous composition, much to the surprise of the composer, who had predicted that most orchestras would refuse to play it. It is usually played as a purely orchestral work, only rarely being staged as a ballet.
This entry is like scrambled eggs! ..some English..some Afrikaans… some reading…some listening…some chess, some poetry, make your pick and choose what you want to do…and I hope you find something good here….I’m going to explain in short what the magazine is about. This is a South African family magazine, since the 1900’s and I’ve blogged about it before, but want to blog more and focus more on poetry that was published in these issues and about the fashion of the time and whatever you’ll find here…it’s really a mix! The three issues are in this post as PDF files if you want to download it and my other entry is only in English, if you want to click on the link to read the English-entry posted in 2007.
You will find a poem by Goethe.. The Fisherman…translated in Afrikaans in 1915/6 – by someone. The poet’s name was unfortunately not published, only initials, at least it said that the poem was translated from the German-poem. The poems in this entry are written in Afrikaans, but Afrikaans was still busy developing and you will spot the similarities to the Dutch Language in the words/phrases. By looking at these images you can get a pretty good idea of what the fashion of the time was like, the captions with the images will also guide you and you’ve thought that my blog is a chess blog only…hehe..actually, my blog says…anything/everything and chess! But as always, I will try and link something in my entry to chess, if possible! So…here it goes…some extracts of sites – links which you can follow too – that tells us that chess was a game that was enjoyed by South Africans too…from early years on….and for those of you who want to listen so some beautiful Afrikaans music…there’s a song for you to listen to…called..”Korreltjie Sand” – (grain of sand), the poem of Ingrid Jonker…as sung by Chris Chameleon. The following three links are pdf’s which you can download and it’s old Huisgenoot-mags. All the links will open in a new window. These files are quite large, they do take a few seconds to download. Wees geduldig! huisgenoot-julie-1916
This link is from my blogwhere I’ve previously posted in English about Ingrid Jonker with external links you can enjoy. She comitted suicide by walking into the sea.
By downloading the pdf-format of the old Huisgenoot issues, you can compare the covers which is interesting to see how much it’s changed. Even the format has changed over the years from a quite larger format to what it is now.
At the bottom of this link, – for people who want to do some “listening” only…there are some music files…some music from the good old “past”…I know the South Africans reading here – especially if you’re not “at home” – will appreciate these songs… and if you want to download the songs in a zip folder, go to this blog and voila! music-a-la-in-a-jiffy…or is it in a “zip”-py! For English “foreigners” reading here…”Rabbit” was one of South Africa’s rock band of the mid 70’s and they had a big hit…”Charlie”…read about Trevor Rabin…one member of the band…and why he’s now in Hollywood! You can listen to Charlie too…and a few other brilliant songs…all by Saffa-artists. Do enjoy! The first song at the bottom of this post, is an Afrikaans love song though..so go on, play it for your girl friend/boy friend…the title of the song…something like..”Are you still thinking of me”?
If you can’t read the following paragraph…it is Afrikaans! Ek het in Sept 2007 ‘n blog-inskrywing gemaak oor die 1916-Huisgenoot en hier sal jy ook die skakel kry na Tukkies waar ek die Huisgenoot-publikasies gekry het. Dit is in PDF-formaat en die skakels sal in ‘n nuwe bladsy oopmaak. Elkeen van die publikasies is sowat 8 MB en neem ‘n paar sekondes om af te laai en oop te maak. Wees maar bietjie geduldig. Daar is nog ‘n paar gediggies vanuit hierdie toeka-se-dae-uitgawes wat ek sal byvoeg met die tyd. Ek hoop julle geniet die musiek hier ook!
Chess played in South Africa in the early years: Organised club league chess is over 100 years old in Cape Town. Cape Town chess club, the oldest in South Africa (founded in 1885) together with Woodstock, Tokai and the YMCA club formed a union of clubs in 1907. Each club entered one team in the league at a fee of 1 pound-1-0 per team in the same year.
Teams of five competed in the inaugural competition. Cape Town was expected to win and did so but only by one point. In the double round robin they scored 10 match points, Woodstock 9, YMCA 6 and Tokai 0. Cape Town sensationally lost in the opening round to Woodstock, a club barely a year old, and had to field to their strongest possible team for the replay which they won by a single point. Source: Chess for all. The link will open in a new window. Some Chess records …about South Africa… Longest running correspondence chess rivalry. Reinhart Straszacker and Hendrick van Huyssteen, both of South Africa, played their first game of correspondence chess in 1946. They played for over 53 years, until Straszacker died in 1999. They played 112 games, with both men winning 56 games each. Source… https://www.chess.com/article/view/records-in-chess The Chessmaster Borislav Kosti toured South Africa in the 1920’s. I’ve lost my original link about him, but found another link…just after his image…and here’s a wiki-link too..http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borislav_Kosti%C4%87
Bora (Borislav) Kosti – a Chess Grandmaster of the 1920’s
Bora Kostic was born on 24 February 1887 in Vrsac. His first chess steps he started when he was ten, and as early as he was in grammar school he was one of the best chess-players in Vrsac. His biggest competitor from the grammar school days was five years older, Sava Gerdec, who taught him the chess theory. Their fight for the chess reputation was finished when Kostic went to study to Budapest. He finished Oriental trade academy there, but without neglecting chess.
His first great chess result was achieved in Budapest 1909, when he won at the tournament of the greatest Hungarian chess amateurs. This victory opened the door of the Vienna chess society to young Kostic, and that was the chess metropolis of that time.
In 1911 he achieved sensational victory in the match with the American champion, Frank Marshall. His first real “baptism of fire” Bora Kostic had that same year at the International grand master tournament Karsbad (Karlove Vari). In extraordinarily strong competition he won the title of the international master. Then followed the visit to Nordic countries where he won over the champions of Danmark and Sweden, as well as the very powerful Rudolf Spielmann.
In 1913 he moved to the capital of Argentina, Buenos Aires where he worked as the chess lecturer at the Military academy. He had been cruising on one Argetine warship across many seas. In Argentina he won in the matches with all their best players, and also the champion of this country, Roland Ilja, 6:0.
In 1915 he went to New York and started the chess tour from the east to the west coast. On that famous six-month-long tour, Bora Kostic achieved the world record in the number of played games on simultaneous exhibitions. Out of 3281played games he lost only 112, and made draw in 237. During his stay in America he visited Nikola Tesla, while he was the chess teacher to the famous tenor singer Enrico Caruso.Playing numerous games and tournaments, master tournament of the “Manhattan chess” club being the most famous in 1918, Bora Kostic was ranked immediately after Capablanca on the whole American continent. Especially because their four games played at two tournaments ended draw. That was why their match in 1919 happened, when the genius Capablanca won with the great result.
In the same year he returned to Europe and in Hastings took the second place after Capablanca. The next year in Hastings he took the first place with 100% gained points, which nobody repeated during the long tradition of this tournament. Then came important tournament results: Gothenburg 1920 – IV place, Budapest 1921 – III-IV place, Hague 1921 IV-V place. In England he played simultaneous games and blind productions, animating the chess world with enthusiasm.
In Yugoslavia of that time the rivalry between dr Milan Vidmar and Bora Kostic was evident. Unfortunately, the match, the result of which should have shown who should have been given the title of the Yugoslav champion, was never organized.
Bora Kostic especially liked to travel and see new countries and customs, but also to play at the chess tournaments during those travels. So he organized world chess tour which lasted from 11 November 1923 to 28 May 1926. As he himself said to his friend Kosta Jovanovic immediately before the trip: “I want to see the world, those parts of the world that were only the objects of my imagination. I believe that on that trip there will be a lot of interest for chess. ” That was the mission which brought commercial success of great scale to the world chess. Certain Yugoslav master, demonstrating chess on, so to speak every step, in different countries, talks about his homeland about which many people have never even heard before. First he set off to Australia and New Zealand. Then over South Africa overland to Kenia, where the famous match on the equator was played. Bora Kostic was on the northern hemisphere, and his opponent on the south. His next stop was India, where he was at the end met by maharaja from Patiale (Schandagar), who organized tournaments on the hights of the Himalayas. From there he went to Nepal and on Tibet, and then to the island of Java in Indonesia. From Java he crossed to Sumatra where he played with the chief of the Bataki tribe. From there he moved to the Philipines, and then to Hong Kong and China. From China he moved to the Soviet Union from where his return to Vrsac began. Through Siberia, over Irkutsk, Novosibirsk, Omsk, Sverdlovsk, Moskow, Odessa, Leningrad to Riga. Everywhere he played simultaneous matches, blind games, matches, and as he himself confessed the greatest number of lost games he had, were played just in the Soviet Union. Finally, at the end of May 1926, he arrived to Vrsac and ended the first part of his trip around the world at the chess-board. Tireless chess traveller, he put foundations for the future chess links among the peoples of the whole world. …
First chess Olympics were played in 1927. godine. Bora Kostic played at the first board of the Yugoslav representation and won 8,5 points out of 15 games. The following year he won in Trencanske Toplice, and in 1930 he was IV in Nice. In the same year he continued his trip around the world. He went to Mexico where he stayed eight months. From there he went to Cuba, then to America, and came back from there in the middle of 1931 to arrive to the Olympics which took place in Prague. On that Olympics Yugosalvia was IV, the contribution of Bora Kostic on the third board was very important.Then came extraordinarily strong tournament in Bled , which was marked by the world champion Alekhin.
The first Yugoslav championships took place in 1935 in Belgrade. Bora Kostic shared the first place with Vasja Pirc. Bora Kostic achieved the greatest tournament result in 1938 in Ljubljana at the Yugoslav championships. With 10,5 points out of 15 games he won over the best Yugoslav players, as well as over Szabo, Tartakower and Steiner.
At the beginning of World War II the chess activity stopped for all those who did not want to play in Nazi Germany. Among them was also Bora Kostic who spent some time in the concentration camp in Veliki Beckerek (Zrenjanin) because of his patriotism. After the war he took part at several championships and smaller tournaments, and the last competition at which he won was the tournament of veterans – Zurich 1962.
Bora Kostic died in Belgrade, 3 November 1963. Perhaps, when we take into consideration only the objective power of some players, Uncle Bora would not be ranked in the world top. It may happen that his rich talent has worn out on his road filled with all kinds of events. The circumstances he lived under later did not allow him to fullfill his creative potentials to their full extent. However, as the chess-player he was a unique, extraordinary person. He devoted his life to chess and he was thrilled with it to the end of his life.The magic of the chess game took him to the great life adventure – to the long journey through the exotic, in that time unknown world. Source: See the link by his photo- it will open in a new window. You can play through his games on the link too.
Mode : Neklyne en haarstyle / Fashion: Necklines and hairstyles
Girl's dress
Marriage-couple
Mode/Fashion
Modes van 1916/Fashion 1916
Akteurs/Actors
Chris Chameleon singing “Korreltjie Sand” – (Grain of Sand)
Korreltjie Sand – lyrics
korreltjie korreltjie sand
klippie gerol in my hand
klippie gesteek in my sak
word korreltjie klein en plat
sonnetjie groot in die blou
ek maak net ‘n ogie van jou
blink in my korreltjie klippie
dit is genoeg vir die rukkie pyltjie geveer en verskiet
liefde verklein in die niet
timmerman bou aan ‘n kis
ek maak my gereed vir die niks
korreltjie klein is my woord
korreltjie niks is my dood
korreltjie klein
korreltjie sand kindjie wat skreeu uit die skoot
niks in die wêreld is groot
stilletjies lag nou en praat
stilte in doodloopstraat
wêreldjie rond en aardblou
korreltjie maak ek van jou
huisie met deur en twee skrefies
tuintjie met blou madeliefies pyltjie geveer en verskiet
liefde verklein in die niet
timmerman bou aan ‘n kis
ek maak my gereed vir die niks
korreltjie klein is my woord
korreltjie niks is my dood
korreltjie klein
korreltjie sand (5x)
You can read about Chris Chameleon on this link which will open in a new link.
The Original poem
Korreltjie niks is my dood Ingrid Jonker (1933-1965)
Korreltjie korreltjie sand
klippie gerol in my hand
klippie gesteek in my sak
word korreltjie klein en plat
Sonnetjie groot in die blou
korreltjie maak ek van jou
blink in my korreltjie klippie
dit is genoeg vir die rukkie
Kindjie wat skreeu uit die skoot
niks in die wêreld is groot
stilletjies lag nou en praat
stilte in doodloopstraat
Wêreldjie rond en aardblou
ek maak net ‘n ogie van jou
huisie met deur en twee skrefies
tuintjie met blou madeliefies
Pyltjie geveer in verskiet
liefde verklein in die niet
Timmerman bou aan ‘n kis
Ek maak my gereed vir die niks
Korreltjie klein is my woord
Korreltjie niks is my dood
Kontras Wit is die wêreld,
wit van die sneeuw.
Bokant die water
sweef daar ‘n meeuw;
blouw is die hemel,
nergens ‘n wolk:
oral is daar vrede
rondom die kolk.
Spierwitte wêreld,
diep in jouw siel
sug jij en smag jij
om te verniel;
skijn is jouw vrede,
donker jouw hart:
jij is maar blij oor
ander se smart
A D Keet: Amsterdam, Kersmis 1914
Digter Is Hij
Digter is hij, die digters-taal
Diep uit die grond van sijn hart kan haal;
En hij voel in sijn hart ‘n heerlike drang
Om ‘n vlugtige stemming in woorde te vang.
Digter is hij, die verse maak–
Verse, wat duisende harte kan raak.
Maar hij weet nie, waar hij die mag van haal:
Dis ‘n gawe, wat bo uit die hemel daal.
Digter is hij, die oog en oor
Tref met ‘n pragtige woordekoor;
En hij skep sijn lied soos ‘n vooltjie vrij,
Die sijn hele siel aan die wêreld belij.
Digter is hij, die sing en sing,
Fraai als ‘n vooltjie, wat vreugde bring:
Want hij hef sijn stem op ‘n lieflike maat
Van die môre vroeg tot die awend laat.
Digter is hij, die deur en deur
Voel, wat rondom en in hom gebeur;
Die sijn siel se gevoelens uit kan giet
In ‘n lewende, sprekende, roerende lied.
A D Keet
Wagter op die Toring
I (Januarie 1913)
Wagter op die toring,
sê, wat sien jij daar?
Ek sien duisend-duisendtalle
voor die gragte, voor die walle,
om die vesting aan te val.
Maar geen grag sal hul oor steek nie,
en geen poort sal hul deur breek nie,
want die burgers op die mure
staan getrouw en pal.
Wagter op die toring,
sê, is daar gevaar?
Is eie strijd dan uitgestrede,
dat die vijandsvlag in vrede
oor ons eie vesting waai?
Ag! die wagter lê in bande,
neergevel in bitt’re skande,
want die burgers op die mure
het die burg verraai.
II
(Junie 1915)
Wagter, die nag is donker,
donker en o, so bang:
vijande buite, wat raas en woed,
vriende gekeerd teen hul eie bloed,
en oor die burgers ‘n doodse slaap–
wagter, die nag was bang.
Trouw was jouw wag op die voorste wal,
helder en luid jouw basuingeskal,
maar oor die burgers ‘n doodse slaap–
wagter, hoe lang, hoe lang?
Wagter, siedaar, die skadewee
versmelt als, ‘n ligte skim
Hoor ‘n geruis in die beendre! die dood
voel nuwe lewe ontkiem in haar skoot.
Strijders, ontwaakte, die swaard ontbloot!
Wagter, ‘n goue môreson
verrijs aan die oosterkim.
—H A FAGAN
Die Visser
(Uit die Duits van Goethe)
Die water ruis, die water rol:
‘n visser sonder smart
sit daar te hengel vredevol,
ja koel tot in sijn hart.
En wijl hij loer en wijl hij sit,
deel sig die vloed in twee:
‘n vogtig meerwijf, haelwit,
stijg uit die siedende see.
Sij sing tot hom, sij spreek tot hom;
“Wat lok jij uit mijn skoot
“met mensekuns en menselis
“mijn kinders tot die dood?
“Wis jij hoe rijk die vissies is
“hier onder in die see,
“dan sou jij afdaal en gewis
“ook vind die ware vree.
“Moet nie die son en maan hul rig
“vir laafnis tot die vloed?
“Toon golwe-aad’mend hul gesig
“nie tweemaal skoner gloed?
“Ag jij die diepe hemel lig,
“die vog-beglansde blouw?
“Lok nie jouw eie aangesig
“jou in die eeuw’ge douw?”
Die water ruis, die water rol;
benat sijn naakte voet;
sijn hart word van verlange vol
als hij ‘n minnegroet.
Sij spreek tot hom, sij sing tot hom:
weerstaan kon hij nie meer;
half trek sij hom, half sink hij in,
en niemand sien hom weer.
J J S
Aan Mijn Vaderland
Trouwe liefde al mijn dae,
sweer ek jou met hand en hart!
Al jouw vreug is mijn behae,
en jouw leed mijn diepste smart!
Want mijn alles, selfs mijn lewe,
dank ek jou, mijn vaderland:
dis van jou mij vrij gegewe,
uitgereik met milde hand.
Daarom sing ek jou mijn sange
en mijn lied’re vir altijd;
daarom is ook mijn verlange
en mijn strewe jou gewijd.
Maar ons is nie net verenig
als jij in die sonskijn baai:
ek wil ook jouw smarte lenig,
als die stormwind anstig waai.
En nie net met woordeklanke
is ek tot jouw diens bereid:
met mijn daad is jij te danke
in jouw nood en angs en strijd.
Ek sal pal staan, tot ek sterwe
teen tiranne, wat jou druk:
tronk, verbanning wil ek erwe,
eer ek voor hul gruwels buk.
Is die nagte soms ook duister,
eind’lik daag dit in die oos,
en die dag vol glans en luister
bring die matte strijder troos.
Trouwe liefde al mijn dae.
sweer ek jou met hand en hart!
Al jouw vreug is mijn behae,
en jouw leed mijn diepste smart!
W.K. van Elssen
WINTER
Die eikebome
staan bleek en kaal,
en die popliere
als as so vaal,
Oor tuin en velde
kom elke nag
‘n kille laken
van spierwit prag.
Die newels drijwe
die vleie oor
en keer die sonskijn
aan al kant voor.
Die awendwindjie
speel langs die hang,
druk ijsig soene
op elke wang.
Dis oral aaklige!
Natuur is dood;
en ook mijn harte
word swaar als lood.
Maar nee, mijn liefste!
ek kan nie treur:
jouw liefde lewe
om op te beur.
Jouw oë melde
in minnegloed
waar wintersweeë
vergeefs teen woed.
Dit wil mijn siele
verwarm, verblij,
en vir die lente
reeds voorberei.
W K van Elssen
THE FISHERMAN.
THE waters rush’d, the waters rose,
A fisherman sat by,
While on his line in calm repose
He cast his patient eye.
And as he sat, and hearken’d there,
The flood was cleft in twain,
And, lo! a dripping mermaid fair
Sprang from the troubled main.
She sang to him, and spake the while:
“Why lurest thou my brood,
With human wit and human guile
From out their native flood?
Oh, couldst thou know how gladly dart
The fish across the sea,
Thou wouldst descend, e’en as thou art,
And truly happy be!
“Do not the sun and moon with grace
Their forms in ocean lave?
Shines not with twofold charms their face,
When rising from the wave?
The deep, deep heavens, then lure thee not,–
The moist yet radiant blue,–
Not thine own form,–to tempt thy lot
‘Midst this eternal dew?”
The waters rush’d, the waters rose,
Wetting his naked feet;
As if his true love’s words were those,
His heart with longing beat.
She sang to him, to him spake she,
His doom was fix’d, I ween;
Half drew she him, and half sank he,
And ne’er again was seen.
Goethe: 1779
An Afrikaans love song…
Luister na “Dink jy darem nog aan my”
Sias Reyneke was member of “Groep Twee” – (Group Two)
Joy: Paradise Road
Joy
Master Jack
It’s a strange, strange world we live in, Master Jack.
You taught me all I know and I never look back.
It’s a very strange world and I thank you, Master Jack.
You took a coloured ribbon from out of the sky,
and taught me how to use it as the years went by.
To tie up all your problems and make them believe.
And then to sell them to the people in the street.
It’s a strange, strange world we live in, Master Jack.
You taught me all I know and I never look back.
It’s a very strange world and I thank you, Master Jack.
I saw right thru the way you started teaching me now.
So someday soon you could get to use me somehow.
I thank you very much you know you’ve been very kind.
But, I’d better move along before you change my mind
It’s a strange, strange world we live in, Master Jack
No hard feelings if I never come back
It’s a very strange world and I thank you, Master Jack
You taught me all the things the way you’d like ’em to be.
But I’d like to see if other people agree.
It’s all very interesting the way you describe
But I’d like to see the world thru my own eyes.
It’s a strange, strange world we live in, Master Jack.
No hard feelings if I never come back
You’re a very strange man and I thank you, Master Jack.
You’re a very strange man and I thank you, Master Jack.
You’re a very strange man, aren’t you, Master Jack?
Four Jacks and a Jill with “Master Jack”
http://www.mnet.co.za/Mnet/Shows/carteblanche/story.asp?Id=2876 Rabbit…South Africa’s rock group from the 70’s with Duncan Faure, Trevor Rabin, Dave Matthews…read the next article about Trevor! Read this article about Trevor Rabin… now in Hollywood…writing the score for Hollywood movies…-follow the link to Mnet.
He wrote the score for Hollywood movies like Enemy of the State, Armageddon and National Treasure and won more awards than he can count, including several Grammies.
It started off with classical piano lessons as a boy. ? He then embarked on a lifelong love affair with the guitar. The name is Trevor Rabin, South Africa’s celebrated guitarist, singer, songwriter and composer.
You might remember him from Rabbit or Yes, but Trevor Rabin has left the rock stage for the lights of Hollywood. He has written the score for 25 movies.
Here at his Los Angeles home studio, he creates the stuff Hollywood dreams are made of.
A stone’s throw from the houses of the producers and actors he composes for, Trevor is crafting away at the music of yet another feature film – Glory Road, to be released soon
If you would watch or listen to a movie without the music, you would be amazed as to what a difference the score makes. And that is where Trevor has found a new profession – playing with our emotions. Continue reading on the link in the start of this article…and now you can listen to..Charlie!
For the Official site of Corus, please click here.For Live Games, click on the Corus-logo on the side bar of my blog or click here. If you click on the images, you will get a larger view. All images are from the Official site and all links will open in a new window. At the bottom of this post you can play through the games of some players in Group A.
Corus Schedule: Grand Masters Group A rounds 1 to 6
To see the schedule for the other rounds, please click here for rounds 7-13. Please click HERE to play throughthe game of Carlsen vs Radjabov. Carlsen played white in round 1 against Radjabov. The game will open in a new window.
Corus Group A Round 1 results
On the link here, the site of Chess.com,you can play through the games of Aronian,L (2750) vs. Wang Yue (2739); Kamsky,G (2725) vs. Adams,Mi (2712); Van Wely,L (2625) vs. Dominguez Perez,L (2717); Stellwagen,D (2612) vs. Movsesian,S (2751); Carlsen,M (2776) vs. Radjabov,T (2761); Karjakin,Sergey (2706) vs. Morozevich,A (2771) and Ivanchuk,V (2779) vs. Smeets,J (2601). All the games from Round 1, Corus Group A. The link will open in a new window.
Corus Group A Round 2 results
For the games of round 2please click on this link to play through the games. Please click on the image for a larger view of the results of round 2.
Carlsen round 12..end position and move list.
Sergey – Corus round 12 – final position and move list Play through games on this link played in round 12 and view the standings after round 12 too.
Sergey Karjakin, winner of Corus 2009
Corus Final Results…please click on the image for a larger view – image: chess.com
Sergey Karjakin, round 13 final position and move list
Spoken by great men:"Give me 20 divisions of American soldiers and I will breach Europe. Give me 15 consisting of Englishmen and I will advance to the borders of Berlin. Give me two divisions of those marvellous fighting Boers and I will remove Germany from the face of the earth." - Field Marshal Bernard L. Montgomery, Commander of the Allied Forces during WW2.
"The Americans fight for a free world, the English mostly for honour, glory and medals, the French and Canadians decide too late that they have to participate. The Italians are too scared to fight, the Russians have no choice. The Germans for their Fatherland. The Boers? Those sons of Bitches fight for the hell of it." American General, George 'Guts and Glory' Patton.
Chessalee 