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Back to May 2001 reviews
Last update: Friday June 3, 2005 9:44
by Gerald M. Levitt McFarland
258 pages, £40 (hardback)
The Turk was a showpiece created in 1770 to entertain the
Holy Roman Empress at an exhibition. It consisted of a chessboard on a large
box, at which sat a puppet-like figure with a mechanical arm, operated by a
chess-player who was ingeniously concealed in the main body of the "automaton".
The Turk could say "echec", nod its head, and, most importantly, beat almost
all-comers at chess. Remarkably, the Turk continued to play for 85 years, touring
several countries and consistently attracting crowds. It changed managers a
few times, and various players operated it, but the illusion was so successfully
preserved that no full account of its workings was ever published. Many spectators
believed that it was truly artificial intelligence, the most remarkable technology
ever produced. One opponent, having made an illegal move, even fainted in shock
when the automaton removed the offending piece from the board.
In Part One Levitt gives a lengthy account of the Turk's fascinating history, and Part Two discusses the relevant literature - mainly fumbling attempts to explain and expose. The Turk's managers were a colourful lot, so the narrative is compelling; Part Two is drier, but still full of curiosities - and there are wonderful photographs throughout. Then copious appendices provide the complete text of several contemporary essays, notably an elegant piece by Edgar Allan Poe. The extant scores of the Turk's games are also printed in full: these make impressive reading considering the conditions they were played under. Finally there are the notorious "endgame" positions which opponents were invited to play out: apparently the side to move should win each one, but intriguingly the solutions have still not yet been discovered.
The Turk is a fine work of scholarship. But unfortunately Levitt's prose is verbose and repetitious. A sample: "Perhaps in the future, some new light will be shed on the Turk and his adventures, but for now, we must enjoy and decipher the limited material available. Because of the great distance in time since the Turk's performances and wanderings, we must use conjecture and supposition based on the sometimes skewed material that is available." (pp. 154-5) It's all like that - for 258 pages. To his credit Levitt quotes generously from his sources, so the tedium is often relieved - but only just. Admirable yet soporific, this is the perfect bedtime book.
James Vigus