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I hadn't heard much about "The Queen's Gambit", the book or the Netflix series, until last November, when two different colleagues insisted that I watch the show immediately, as the main character reminded them of me so much. How, I wondered, could the story of a chess prodigy possibly make anyone think of me? I am a beginner chess player (I started teaching myself in lockdown: it sounded like an interesting way to keep my brain active when I couldn’t focus on a book) and the only pills I pop are iron supplements... As it turns out, it was the vintage wardrobe, pointy chin and deadpan attitude that were strikingly similar. But by the time I realized that, I had binged the show and ferretted a copy of Tevis' novel (as well as a lovely vintage Soviet chess set that would probably make my Russian ex-boyfriend green with envy). I had heard of Tevis as a writer of essentially philosophical science-fiction, and I was curious to see how someone who wrote "The Man Who Fell to Earth" would pull off what is essentially a feminist coming-of-age story.

I will not beat around the bush: I loved this book. The prose is lean and precise, yet manages to capture Beth’s thoughts and feelings beautifully, and I was instantly invested in her story and the very realistic evolution of her character.

When Beth’s mother dies in a car crash, she is sent to live in an orphanage in Kentucky. Life there is bland and boring to her until she meets the custodian, Mr. Shaibel, who plays chess by himself in the orphanage basement. Not one to take no for an answer, Beth hangs around until he accepts to teach her the game, and to the old man’s surprise, she displays a natural gift for it. He teaches her as much as he can, but besides chess, Beth has a fondness for the little green pills dispensed by the orphanage pharmacy, which predictably gets her in trouble...

Beth is eventually adopted by a couple who turn out to be estranged, and she goes to live with her aloof but kind and open-minded adoptive mother Alma Weathley, whom, upon finding out that her new daughter might just be a prodigy, becomes her de facto agent. As Beth becomes an increasingly famous chess player, her relationship with pills and alcohol becomes harder and harder to manage, and haunts her just as much as she is haunted by her rivalry with the world champion, Vasily Borgov.

It was easy for me to root for Beth: she’s an introvert who has a hard time socializing but gives everything to her passion and her determination is admirable. Her difficulties bonding with those she cares for was both heartbreaking but understandable, as is her slide with substances. I enjoyed the fact that while the sexism Beth has to deal with is often pointed out, it manages not to be didactic: Tevis simply highlights the situation Beth finds herself in and describes her annoyance with it. For Beth, her gender is not a significant part of what she does, and she can’t understand why everyone insists on making a big deal about it. And I loved, loved, loved the resolution.

I do think that a basic knowledge of the game of chess contributes to one’s enjoyment of this novel. If I had read it before I started studying and playing myself, I might have found the game descriptions very tedious, but knowing the mechanics discussed in the text made those passages very interesting. If game notations had been provided, I would have been tempted to set up my board and try them out.

There is something simple and straightforward about this book, in a way I find distinctive of modern American literature, and I loved that such trimmed prose can be used to describe complex characters and situations as well as they are in this little book. If you liked the show, as it is an almost flawless adaptation of the book, you will definitely enjoy it. A fantastic novel about a unique and unforgettable character.