Copyright © by John Fairbairn, London 2012, 2013.

The Life, Games and Commentaries of Honinbo Shuei

GoGoD Vintage Series

John Fairbairn

Buy the full book at gobooks.com

This SmartGo book contains the trilogy, “The Life, Games and Commentaries of Honinbo Shuei”, by an author (John Fairbairn) long known in the western go world as a writer and translator, especially for books on go history.

Part 1

Shuei was a famous go (weiqi/baduk) player in Japan at the end of the 19th century. He is still esteemed as the best model for even modern professionals to follow. But his life was full of hardship and controversy. He overcame this not only to dominate the go world but to do so in his forties. He is a classic example of “great talents mature late”.

Part 1 (The Life) provides a full-length (text-only) biography, recounting all this. It reveals not just unknown sides to his character, but the truth about “facts” famous in the go world, such as Shusaku’s “invincible” run of Castle Games. It also explains why Shuei disappeared from the go scene for years at a time. It is the first-ever detailed and thoroughly researched biography of a go player in English.

Part 2

Spread over four volumes, this part provides detailed commentaries on seventy-nine of Shuei’s games. One reason Shuei is so famous is because of his pure but elusive style. The commentaries in Part 2 therefore focus heavily on this aspect. The games are presented in chronological order so that the emergence of his style can be traced.

Volume 1 contains 21 games, covering his early career between 1870 and 1886, after which he took a five-year break from go.

Volume 2 contains 21 games, covering his career between 1892 and 1897. The games here are still from a relatively early stage in Shuei’s career. His most famous games come from late in his career because that is when – very unusually, in his forties – he became truly strong. Neverthless, this volume includes the game with his most famous move, the “Extraordinary White 92”. Also, several major aspects of his style now begin to emerge clearly. We see here the “ethos of miai”, pre-sabaki, and the L-shapes in the centre, as well as more tactical characteristics such as probes and “grubbing”.

In addition, this volume contains the complete ten-game match with Murase Shuho which led to Shuei handing over to Shuho the Honinbo title he had stubbornly and sometimes unreasonably fought to preserve. The final encounter, known as the Reconciliation Game, is one of go’s classic moments.

Volume 3 contains 19 games, covering his career between 1898 and 1900. These games are from the beginning of the mature part of Shuei’s career in which he dominated all other players. The players here are for the most part the pick of the crop, and include especially his two top pupils, the future Honinbo Shusai and Karigane Junichi. Half of the ten-game match with Karigane is given here – the rest is in Volume 4. Apart from witnessing further examples of Shuei’s style and technique (sabaki especially, but see also the “miai game”), we see here as well his use of off-the-board techniques such as psychology. As regards his character, though that was fully discussed in Part 1, here we see reinforcing images of his style and prowess as a teacher.

Volume 4 covers the period of Shuei’s life between 1900 to late 1904 when he reigned so supreme that only one player, Tamura Yasuhisa (the future Honinbo Shusai), could get close enough to play on Black. Even his second best pupil, Karigane Junichi, was forced to take two stones. This volume can therefore be said to show the best of Shuei. Unfortunately it may also show the worst of Shuei, given that there are indications that, for once in his life, he indulged in a little bit of skulduggery off the board.

Part 3

Part 3 features a collection of most of the very few but highly esteemed commentaries made by the “Meijin of Meijins”, Honinbo Shuei, on games by his pupils.

Shuei’s commentaries are special in various ways: they advanced the fledgeling art of go commentary significantly, they reflect the fact that for most of his late career he was exclusively a teacher, and they help us better understand his own style, for which he remains outstandingly famous.

Since he never actually played a serious game as a Meijin, these commentaries are the only direct insight we have into his skill at that time – in his own (translated) words!

This ePub reader does not support full scripting, so diagrams may not be interactive.

Copyright Page

The Life, Games and Commentaries of Honinbo Shuei
GoGoD Vintage Series

John Fairbairn

Copyright © by John Fairbairn, London 2012, 2013.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or retransmitted in any form or by any means without the written authorisation of the author.

Cover design and conversion to SmartGo Books format by John Mifsud.

Contents

The Life, Games and Commentaries of Honinbo Shuei

Copyright Page

Part 1 – The Life

Preface

Before the beginning

Shuei’s childhood

The chapters in gray are included only in the full book.

Becoming heir

Shuei succeeds as Hakuei XIII

New foreign fads

The “3” Days Group

Disaster strikes Shuwa

On the road

The Driftwood Board

Return to Tokyo

Shuetsu’s breakdown

Build-up to the Hoensha

Hoensha launch

Debut in the Hoensha

Momosaburo becomes Honinbo Shugen

First break with the Hoensha

Diploma spat

Hoensha modernises even further

Fire strikes

Reconciliation between Shuho and Shuei

Terms of reconciliation

Kim Ok-kyun

The Reconciliation Game

Shuho’s accession and death

Second break with the Hoensha

Musing in Ogasawara

Challenge to Nakagawa

Honinbo XVII or XIX?

Shuetsu’s death

Wintering in Hokkaido

Kim’s return to Tokyo

Igo Shoreikai and arrival of Tamura

Warmer relations with the Hoensha

Takada Tamiko enters the scene

Shishokai

Pots, kettles and anecdotes

Showcase matches

End of the old guard

The road to Meijin

How did he become so strong?

Grim last days

Part 2 – The Games

Volume 1 – 1870 to 1886

Preface

Shuei’s Go Style

Game 1: Taken in hand by the Honinbo steward
vs Ito Showa (Ten-game match, Game 1), 1870–04–21

Game 2: Training continues
vs Ito Showa (Ten-game match, Game 3), 1870–05–06

Game 3: Growing maturity
vs Ito Showa (Ten-game match, Game 8), 1870–06–07

Game 4: Sworn brothers
vs Murase Shuho, 1871–05–02

Game 5: A hard apprenticeship
vs Nakagawa Kamesaburo, 1871–10–06

Game 6: Inching towards a solid style
vs Nakagawa Kamesaburo, 1876–08–22

Game 7: Nakagawa’s Masterpiece
vs Nakagawa Kamesaburo, 1876–12–28

Game 8: Glimpses of an emerging style
vs Kobayashi Tetsujiro (Twenty-game match, Game 18), 1877–01–23

Game 9: Under fire
vs Kuroda Shunsetsu (Ten-game match, Game 2), 1877–06–16

Game 10: Hoensha launch
vs Murase Shuho, 1879–04–20

Game 11: Return of the samurai
vs Kuroda Shunsetsu, 1879–05–25

Game 12: The long road to reconciliation
vs Murase Shuho (Ten-game match, 1), 1884–12–21

Game 13: Comfortable for Shuho
vs Murase Shuho (Ten-game match, 2), 1885–01–18

Game 14: Shuho takes the lead
vs Murase Shuho (Ten-game match, 3), 1885–02–15

Game 15: Shuei far from his best
vs Murase Shuho (Ten-game match, 4), 1885–02–26

Game 16: Back from the brink
vs Murase Shuho (Ten-game match, 5), 1885–03–15

Game 17: Simple blunder by Shuei?
vs Murase Shuho (Ten-game match, 6), 1885–04–19

Game 18: Bare bones
vs Murase Shuho (Ten-game match, 7), 1885–05

Game 19: Shuho keeps his nose in front
vs Murase Shuho (Ten-game match, 8), 1885–06–21

Game 20: Desperate to improve
vs Murase Shuho (Ten-game match, 9), 1885–11–15

Game 21: The Reconciliation Game
vs Honinbo Shuho (Ten-game match, 10), 1886–08–06

Volume 2 – 1892 to 1897

Preface

Shuei’s Go Style

Game 1: Late-night generosity
vs Kita Fumiko, 1892–03–07

Game 2: Which dan, which date?
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1892–08–11

Game 3: Go in the rain
vs Ishii Senji, 1892–10–05

Game 4: More judgement at the Shoreikai
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1892–10–09

Game 5: Joseki ambush
vs Takahashi Kinesaburo, 1893–04–08

Game 6: Second encounter at the Shoreikai
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1893–07–02

Game 7: A measure of revenge
vs Kobayashi Tetsujiro, 1893–09–03

Game 8: First game at the Shishokai
vs Ito Kotaro, 1895–11–17

Game 9: The extraordinary White 92
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1895–12–15

Game 10: Old friends
vs Yasui Sanei, 1896–04–19

Game 11: Taming the Hoensha’s next VP
vs Ishii Senji, 1896–05–13

Game 12: Another Jowa mystery
vs Ishii Senji, 1896–05–24

Game 13: No-power Meijin
vs Ishii Senji, 1896–07

Game 14: Shusai’s long apprenticeship
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1896–10–18

Game 15: A stern but hazy test
vs Ishii Senji, 1897–02–07

Game 16: Shusai Commentary 1
vs Yasui Sanei, 1897–05–12

Game 17: Shuei’s “grubbing” style
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1897–05–16

Game 18: Shusai Commentary 2
vs Yasui Sanei, 1897–05–25

Game 19: Centre skill
vs Yasui Sanei, 1897–06–08

Game 20: Shusai Commentary 3
vs Yasui Sanei, 1897–06–15

Game 21: Tamura emerges as a favourite
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1897–09–19

Volume 3 – 1898 to 1900

Preface

Shuei’s Go Style

Game 1: Boxes and trays
vs Yasui Sanei, 1898–06–13

Game 2: Psychology
vs Ishii Senji, 1898–06–14

Game 3: Three-card trick
vs Ishii Senji, 1898–06–15

Game 4: Shusai Commentary 4
vs Yasui Sanei, 1898–07–08

Game 5: The miai game
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1898–10–16

Game 6: A better class of loss
vs Yasui Sanei, 1898–12–08

Game 7: Karigane’s debut at the Shishokai
vs Karigane Junichi, 1898–12–18

Game 8: Sleepless in Tokyo
vs Tanaka Masaki, 1899–01–15

Game 9: A tricky, stubborn opponent
vs Hirose Heijiro, 1899–02–19

Game 10: More L shapes
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1899–10–15

Game 11: Let the opponent do the thinking
vs Ishii Senji, 1899–11–12

Game 12: Honour in fast games
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–02–18

Game 13: Sabaki style
vs Yasui Sanei, 1900–04–01

Game 14: Ten-game match with Karigane starts
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–05–05

Game 15: Karigane match, Game 2
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–05–18

Game 16: Karigane match, Game 3
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–05–23

Game 17: Karigane match, Game 4
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–05–28

Game 18: Karigane match, Game 5
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–06–03

Game 19: Karigane match, Game 6
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–06–08

Volume 4 – 1900 to 1904

Preface

Shuei’s Go Style

Game 1: Karigane match, Game 7
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–06–18

Game 2: Karigane match, Game 8
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–06–23

Game 3: Karigane match, Game 9
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–06–28

Game 4: Karigane match, Game 10
vs Karigane Junichi, 1900–07–03

Game 5: An extraordinary middle-game
vs Hirose Heijiro, 1900–09–16

Game 6: Party game
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1900–10–24

Game 7: Lifetime masterpiece No. 1
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1901–01–20

Game 8: The follow-up game
vs Karigane Junichi, 1901–02–17

Game 9: Lefty Osawa
vs Osawa Ginjiro, 1901–04–21

Game 10: Quasi-mirror go
vs Ito Kotaro, 1901–07–21

Game 11: The importance of the classics
vs Karigane Junichi, 1901–09–15

Game 12: Slugfest
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1902–01–19

Game 13: Pupil comparison
vs Karigane Junichi, 1902–11–16

Game 14: Chastisement
vs Ito Kotaro, 1903–05–17

Game 15: Hard times
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1903–08–16

Game 16: Nihon Igokai launch, Game 1
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1904–07–10

Game 17: The other possible heir’s last trial
vs Karigane Junichi, 1904–08–23

Game 18: Nihon Igokai launch, Game 2
vs Tamura Yasuhisa, 1904–10–15

Part 3 – The Commentaries

Preface

Introduction

Commentary 1
Tsuchiya Shugen vs Karigane Junichi, 1902–07

Commentary 2
Iwasa Kei vs Nozawa Chikucho, 1904–11–12

Commentary 3
Osawa Ginjiro vs Nozawa Chikucho, 1905–03–29

Commentary 4
Tsuyamori Itsuro vs Nozawa Chikucho, 1906–03–23

Commentary 5
Nozawa Chikucho vs Izawa Gankichi, 1906–04–16

Commentary 6
Kobayashi Kentaro vs Nozawa Chikucho, 1906–06–26

Commentary 7
Nozawa Chikucho vs Takabe Dohei, 1906–07–24

Commentary 8
Karigane Junichi vs Nozawa Chikucho, 1906–09–09

Commentary 9
Nozawa Chikucho vs Iwasa Kei, 1906–09–30

Commentary 10
Seki Genkichi vs Nozawa Chikucho, 1906–10–11

Commentary 11
Ito Kotaro vs Nozawa Chikucho, 1906–10–29

Commentary 12
Karigane Junichi vs Nozawa Chikucho, 1907–01–05

Appendix 1: List of the Collected Games of Honinbo Shuei

Appendix 2: Shuei’s Timeline

Appendix: Books by John Fairbairn

About SmartGo Books

Part 1 – The Life

Preface

This is the first part of a trilogy called “The Life, Games and Commentaries of Honinbo Shuei”. The present part, the biography, is a single volume. The games portion is spread over several volumes which contain seventy-nine commented games involving Shuei. The commentaries will, for the moment, be limited to a single volume and will contain games by other players on which Shuei made his highly prized commentaries.

Why so much on one go player?

Takagawa Kaku, himself once supreme in the go world as one of its most famous Honinbos, said that a turning point in his early life, not just his career, was when he was given a copy of Honinbo Shuei’s collected games. He was faced with a decision to continue with his general education or to attempt to be a go professional. He said that when he played these games over, he found a new world just within the limited frame of the 19x19 board. Shuei ever after was the ideal he strove to reach. In later life he edited a collection of some of Shuei’s games. This is what he wrote then (1976):

When I was young I often enjoyed playing over the games of Shuei. That was because I liked the image of him winning without doing anything at all unreasonable. But today I wonder: did I really understand Shuei to that extent? In doing the commentaries for this book, I perused his collected games again after a long interval, and again was made to sigh in admiration at his strength. In particular his games as White after he reached 7-dan hide a fathomless strength amidst a serene and well-balanced flow, which we can perhaps describe as flexible on the outside, unbendable on the inside. In brief, the characteristic of Shuei’s skill at go is not just about local things such as his skill at evaluating positions or his skill in seeing moves, but his mastery of go itself.

Honinbo Shuei may be the past player most admired and copied by other professional go players in general. But there is a strange ambivalence about the situation. There are phrases such as “the Meijin of Meijins” or “the ultimate Meijin” used about him, yet it is hard to point to a really famous game by him, or rivalry. It is hard to point to a joseki he was supposed to have invented. There is no really famous book by him. There is no collection of stunning tsumego problems.

This can all be explained away, of course, and this book will show that much of the explanation is to do with the parlous state of the go world in Shuei’s day. There were no tournaments or famous events such as Shusai’s retirement game which have left their mark on history. There was no rivalry because he was so outstanding, though do note that this relates only to his late career.

Although no single game of Shuei’s stands out, the entire body of his even games with the future Honinbo Shusai – eleven of them – is regarded as a jewel in go’s crown. Of the ten finished games, Shuei won six and drew one, giving Black (no komi) in all games. More than that, of the last five games, between 1900 and 1904, when Shusai was in his late twenties at the then very high rank of 6-dan and could be considered close to his prime (with excellent results against all players bar Shuei), Shuei won four.

Shuei was famous as a late developer. In his case, though, it is not the usual example of developing in one’s twenties instead of one’s teens. He was the very rare case of becoming stronger in his forties. As we shall see, part of the reason is that he disappeared from the go mainstream for years at a time, but there were other fascinating reasons.

One factor which makes it hard to pinpoint individual games by Shuei for special praise is that their brilliance is due more to the entire flow of the game rather than to specific moves. Shuei didn’t need gaudy moves, and even when individual moves do stand out, it can be for surprising reasons. For example, White 92 in his 1895 game with Shusai, is perhaps Shuei’s most famous move. But it is a mere probe, not a 60-move killing sequence. Tactically, any amateur can read ahead the very few moves it requires. But the result is that, one White move later, White has safe groups everywhere and a dominant position over the entire board – something almost unimaginable that early in a no-komi game between top players. It helps, to understand the admiration for the move, to see the even more unlikely place (Black’s thickness) it came from, and further to realise that Shuei willingly gave up this thickness much earlier, spotting even then that it was not of much consequence. In brief, brilliant though this move was, its setting is still Shuei’s overall style. (The commented game is given in game 9 of volume 2 on Shuei’s games.)

Shuei’s career was overshadowed by the fragility of the ecosystem of the time, and we will be examining whether his character was really up to the challenges he faced. Let us be brutal and, even as committed go fans, accept that at the best of times professional go is a parasitical existence. This was the worst of times. Shuei lived at a time of turmoil when the professional go world was in danger of disappearing and a new economic model was needed. But away from the board he was a firm traditionalist and could scarcely be called a leader, although perhaps here too he was a late developer. We will never know for certain, because his premature death cut off moves by him to develop go nationally.

If anything, for most of his career he may even be accused of going backwards from the reforms initiated by Honinbo XVIII Shuho, though it has to be said that his defence of the traditional ways is seen by many, even today, as a virtue. At the very least, he made sure the baby was not thrown out with the bathwater. But this was not from any ideological drive. His main concern was preservation of the Honinbo name, and apart from that there is no institution that he could claim as his legacy, in the way that Shuho was associated with the Hoensha and Honinbo Shusai with the Nihon Ki-in.

If you want to say that Shuho was a Confucianist, actively striving to improve others, and Shusai was mercantile, and suitably so for the modern age, Shuei can perhaps be likened to a Daoist hermit.

This may make him sound like a man who lived mainly for go or for himself, locking himself up in a mountain abode, studying relentlessly to seek the elixir into which were distilled moves of the utmost perfection. Well, yes. Naturally, go was Shuei’s life. Hardly surprising when you are born to a famous Honinbo and have two brothers who also became Honinbos. His gallivanting and stubbornness may also be seen as self-centred. But there is a clear watershed in Shuei’s life. As mentioned above he was regarded as a late developer – but “changed man” might be better. Decide for yourself after you read his story.

We could, of course, choose to ignore Shuei’s life away from the board and judge him only by what appeared on it. The problem there is that what makes Shuei special for other professionals is precisely what makes go hardest for us amateurs. He seems to have had some special insight into the Dao or “Way” of go, the fuseki in particular, which other pros can at least appreciate if not quite emulate.

We shall nevertheless try to look at his style through the prism of later professional opinion in the later volumes, but this book is not really about that. The focus here is on Shuei the man. Whilst I suspect that this will also explain much of his go, the main aim is to enable fellow westerners to appreciate and enjoy him in the round. That will mean demolishing a few sacred cows, but I think a rounder and truer picture is more satisfying (and instructive!) in the end.

If your own focus is, notwithstanding, on his games, the other volumes will offer plenty of commented games and, more specifically, commentaries by him. The reason for the latter is that I happen to believe that amateurs can best begin to see a glimmer of Shuei’s insights by learning to appreciate his commentaries.

Shuei wrote very little that can be called a body of work, but he did write (or dictate) a fair number of commentaries. These commentaries were special in one obvious way. He was a pioneer. Not an innovator. He was never that in any area, but once a way forward was pointed to, he excelled in opening up a path and expanding the frontiers. Before the Meiji era, go commentaries are rare, and terse, sometimes ludicrously so. “Black 121 was good” is one example of a complete commentary. Not perhaps entirely useless – it points up the turning point in the game and encourages the reader to think for himself – but I’m sure most modern readers would like more than one pea, however succulent, for dinner.

Honinbo Shuho, who in contrast came up with many innovations, was the first to give meatier, but still lean, commentaries in his ground-breaking journal Igo Shinpo. Shuei’s commentaries were no bigger and would certainly not lead to obesity either. But, rather, they are short like haiku poems. You learn to spot that what is left out is just as important as what is left in. What is left in hints at, but does not constrain, what is left out. So the reader is encouraged to participate, but with guidance, and this is where Shuei’s sense of flow helps even us. This ability of Shuei to pinpoint – and so, in his own games, direct – the flow of a game is surely what attracted Takagawa to Shuei’s games. Takagawa’s most famous motto was “Like flowing water” – you don’t have to resist what is ahead if it’s easier to go round it. It too was inspired by Shuei.

So, we could liken Shuei’s style to water. But he was also often the willing rock that let itself be pounded by the waters. This is shown in his mastery of amashi strategy. This was mainly a tool used by a White player in the days of no komi, but his mastery of it was such that he often made the absence of komi seem irrelevant. It is this that makes his games feel modern even though they were rooted in tradition. It is this perhaps that speaks most even to modern pros.

Needless to say, his combination of tradition and modernism also appeals to many Japanese fans for other cultural reasons, which we might not share. But I think it would be a serious mistake to ignore Shuei even if you dislike the word “tradition” in go.

In addition to their appearance in the other volumes of this book, you can see all of Shuei’s games (and all of those of Shuho, Shusai and the like) on the GoGoD CD. GoGoD stands for Games of Go on Disk and is a database of games in sgf format compiled by T Mark Hall and myself. The database currently (2012) has over 72,000 games, but the CD also contains a very extensive (about 300 MB) html encyclopaedia which will give you ample detail about other players and aspects of go. Details can be found on our website.

Some notes to help the reader. First, the players mentioned here belong to another age. They had different ideas about names. They liked to change them a lot. To avoid confusion I have therefore laid down some ground rules.

The base rule is that I shall use surnames as the short form wherever possible; note that in Japanese and Korean the surname comes first. My rule is, however, modified for the four historical go families: Honinbo, Inoue, Yasui and Hayashi. Since people with these names existed in every generation of go, and often more than one in each generation, just saying Honinbo would lead to total bafflement. Instead these people are referred to here by their personal styles (e.g. Shuho for Honinbo Shuho, Sanei for Yasui Sanei). A further refinement for these people is to treat them like royalty: a roman reign number can be added. For example, Honinbo IV Dosaku. One special case is the Inoue family. They chose to dub almost all their members not just with the same surname but with the same cognomen. They are all Inoue Inseki. On top of that, one of their most famous members (Genan) chose to tamper with the numbering of the family heads, so that to this day if we write Inoue XI Inseki, we can never be too sure which head is meant (he was both X and XI). The usual practice there is to insert either another style or the original surname, e.g. Inoue Genan Inseki or Inoue Matsumoto Inseki, and these can be shortened to e.g. Matsumoto Inseki.

Name changes also have a temporal aspect. Before Honinbo Shuho was the Honinbo, he was Murase Yakichi and then Murase Shuho. Again, I have a base rule – I use the name the player was best known by. However, this rule too has to be modified. In some cases the alternative name is an integral part of the story and cannot be avoided.

In Japanese words in general, long vowels are not shown.

For Korean names I use McCune-Reischauer with the recommended hyphen in the given name, which means it is easy to distinguish Korean (e.g. Kim Ok-kyun) from Japanese names (e.g. Tamura Yasuhisa) here. There is no agreed transliteration system nowadays and Korean native practice and western practice have diverged. If you do want to look up some of the Korean names here, please be aware of that. For example, Choseon may appear as Josun, Kim Ok-kyun as Gim Okgyun and Yi Ch’ang-ho as Lee Changho.

Another aspect that may confuse you is the old handicapping system, which is mentioned a lot here. In the more leisurely days of no komi (the small number of points that is given to White to compensate for Black’s advantage of first move), a contest between two players was a series of two or three games rather than a single game. Between two players one dan (grade) apart, therefore, the initial handicap was B-B-W. That means a series of three games in which the weaker player took Black twice and White once. I say “initial” handicap, because the eventual handicap was governed not by the difference in grades but by the actual results between each pair of players. Players had to remember their results against each other player, although whenever a dan promotion was given, all slates involving that player were meant to be wiped clean. That is one reason promotions were much harder to get than nowadays. If one player in a pair won enough games to be, say, four games ahead he “beat down” his opponent to the next handicap. If the stronger player in our B-B-W case did this, the handicap would become –B-, meaning the weaker took Black in all games. If the weaker player had been victorious, the handicap would have become even or B-W: alternating Black and White in series of two games. Other handicaps were e.g. B-2: the weaker player alternating between taking Black and two stones. Once a player was on the threshold of being beaten down, however, he sometimes made himself unavailable for further games with that opponent!

The essence of this no-komi system is nicely summed up, though with colours naturally reversed, in a chess aphorism in which Russian grandmaster Efim Bogolyubov is supposed to have said, “When I am White I win because I am White. When I am Black I win because I am Bogolyubov.”

One source of confusion with this system is that it was based on a different scale to the similar system used in the Nihon Ki-in’s Oteai later. This now obsolescent system was based on a scale of three handicap stones covering ranks from 9-dan (the highest) to 1-dan, after which amateur ranks started.

In the old system of Shuei’s day, there was a scale of four stones between the Meijin (9-dan) and a 1-dan and there were no amateur grades. Most amateurs, if they were good enough, were lumped together as 1-dan but this was also an almost honorary grade given to rich patrons. Rules regarding how many games you had to be ahead before switching to the next handicap also varied in old times, and there were many arguments (e.g. did winning four in row count as well as just being four ahead?).

You don’t need to remember all that to read this book. It’s just so that you will recognise the references when they do come up.

Finally, a word of caution. Shuei lived at a time when it was not normal for go players to write autobiographies or give interviews. Many details of Shuei’s life (and of others mentioned here) have been revealed only in scattered and unreliable reminiscences of pupils or rivals, or in newspapers or official documents. Readers who are chess players will probably be familiar already with the amazing variations in the accounts of the lives of, for instance, Alexander Alekhine and Akiva Rubinstein. In the grand scheme of things, chess players are generally so insignificant that they themselves can (almost) get away, too, with inventing details of their own history, while anecdotalists, journalists and even historians can embroider innocent details into exotic details, even when members of the players’ families are still living. Go players have been no different. The account here, therefore, must be taken as an interpretation rather than a definitive account. I feel confident that the weight of evidence confirms the broad brush strokes well enough, but the finer or the more intimate details, however titillating, must not be given more weight than they can bear.

It was tempting to skip many of the details, on the good grounds that “more is less”. In the end, though, I decided that that advice works best when there are plentiful and easy alternative sources for the reader. This is not the case for Shuei, where much is hidden away in old or obscure texts in Japanese, and much of it in classical Japanese. There is also the point that challenging an imperfect but widely held image of a person does often require lots of fire power.

Actually I have omitted some interesting details here. Instead I saved them up to introduce some of the games in the later volumes.

If you nevertheless do feel that the wealth of material offered is overpowering, at least you know why and I crave your indulgence.

Many sources have been used. At the heart of everyone’s knowledge of this period is the magnificent compendium of go history Zain Danso edited by Ando Nyoi. Being largely researched in the Kansai (Osaka) area, it sometimes ends up being biased towards the Inoue family who lived there and still had scores to settle with the Honinbos. We now know that it is also inaccurate in parts, but it is still the starting point for any account of go up to the 20th century. Apart from that, the writers to which I have been most indebted are Karigane Junichi, Hayashi Yutaka, Takagawa Kaku, Segoe Kensaku, Udo Toshio, and Takagi Shoichi. For relations with Kim Ok-kyun, I need to make special mention of Keum Pyeong-tong (Kin Heito), who made new discoveries as recently as 1989. Some other sources are mentioned in the text. Naturally, they have all often been forced to make interpretations, too. Many of the interpretations and all the errors here are, however, my own and should not be seen as reflecting on these esteemed authors.

One special person I would like to acknowledge is Tom Koranda from the Czech Republic. He and I have discussed Shuei often – as well as the old Chinese masters – and his insights have been invaluable. He also provided very many of the transcriptions of the games of these players that are now in the GoGoD database. He has also acted as a proofreader for the present book. Just knowing that he enjoyed it is satisfaction enough.

John Fairbairn
London, May 2012

Before the beginning

It doesn’t always make sense to begin at the beginning, and this is certainly true if we wish to understand why Honinbo Shuei behaved as he did. He spent his life in revolutionary times trying to uphold a traditional way of life that was no longer viable. But the break with the past was not a clean one, and events from before Shuei was born, and rooted in the traditional way of go, had an impact many years later.

In general terms, Shuei’s attachment to the past is easy enough to understand. The Honinbos were the most glorious line of go players. Honinbo I Sansa could be regarded as the founder of the entire go-family system in the early 17th century, and several of the great Meijins of the past, such as Dosaku and Jowa, had come from the Honinbo line.

There were four officially funded go families throughout Edo times, each under an iemoto, or family head, whose successor was an officially stipended heir. The heir was supposed to be the strongest player available. For this reason he was usually adopted into the family after being carefully nurtured and tested as a pupil. The Honinbos were the equivalent of the New York Yankees – enough clout to buy the best talent. The Inoue family were the envious Boston Red Sox, whilst the Yasui and Hayashi families were usually the cellar dwellers. To continue the baseball analogy, there were also a couple of branch families, the Hattori and Sakaguchi families, that acted as a sort of farm system for the major league families.

The job of these families was simply to become good at go, and for the best – usually but certainly not always a Honinbo – to act as the Godokoro, or official head of go, who answered to the shogun (the military ruler of Japan, supposedly acting in the name of the Emperor) via the Commissioner of Shrines and Temples. There was not always a Godokoro, but when there was, he was ranked as the Meijin, or the sole 9-dan. There could also be vice-Meijins, or 8-dan, but rarely more than one.

The Meijin and other ranks were supposedly decided by games between the families throughout the year, with the Godokoro as the final arbiter, but horse-trading counted for as much as playing strength. Whenever an impasse was, nevertheless, reached a challenge could be issued – from family to family, never within a family. This was seen as a serious step, an unsuccessful challenger sometimes risking even exile because the challenger could be seen as disputing the decision of an imperial official.

Only once a year did the players have to prove to outsiders how strong they really were. This was in the Castle Games on the 17th of the 11th lunar month each year. However, apart from a few special exceptions, only the family heads and heirs and 7-dans (i.e. those who received a government stipend) were allowed to play. Technically the shoguns were meant to watch the games, but not all were interested in go and some never turned up. Some had enough grace to turn up briefly, and in this case the practice – called shitauchi – was to play the games privately outside Edo Castle the day before, and then to whizz through the moves in the formal ceremony. In the final days of the shogunate, observance of the Castle Games became very patchy.

Ironically, the later Tokugawa shoguns were go lovers. The 14th shogun Iemochi (1846~66) was a keen and strong amateur. The 15th and last, Yoshinobu (1837~1913), after being unsuccessfully embroiled in the Meiji Restoration wars, was fond of playing go in retirement, and was notorious as a very slow player.

But the 16th Tokugawa Iesato (1863~1940; not a shogun, but a Speaker of the House of Peers) was so fond of go that he was close to professional strength. A 1922 game of his at two stones against Kita Fumiko 4-dan survives (he won; see the GoGoD database for this, and also for a 1905 game by Tokugawa Yoshinobu with five stones against a pro).

Oddly, despite the grim times for professional go players after the end of the shogunate, these go-loving Tokugawas appear to have offered no practical help. They may have worked behind the scenes, of course, and they did have their hands full in other ways.

Still, association with the Castle Games in particular did retain prestige in the Meiji era (1868~1912) which followed the fall of the shoguns. But there were other, more obscure reasons for Shuei’s attachment to this system. One was that go players were to a significant degree like gipsy clans – several closely inter-related families that did not take in outsiders very often. There had apparently been a significant degree of genetic inheritance within the Honinbo family in particular. I say “apparently” because there is no actual proof, just tradition and circumstantial evidence. But with that caveat, it seems that Honinbo I Sansa had passed on his title to his son, Honinbo II Sanetsu. Honinbo IV Dosaku had made his son Honinbo V Dochi. Honinbo XIII Josaku was the son of Honinbo XI Genjo. Honinbo XII Jowa intervened, but his first wife (name unknown) was the mother of Umetaro, who became Inoue XII Setzusan Inseki. This wife died on 11 February 1831 and Jowa’s second wife, Seiko, died on 30 August 1867, but she was the mother of Honinbo Shusaku’s wife (Hana) and of Nakagawa Kamesaburo. Other families had similar, if less glorious, links. This all has resonance in a later tussle between Shuei and Nakagawa for headship of the Honinbo family.

We know that Honinbo XIV Shuwa’s wife Takiko died, apparently childless, on 14 December 1885 at the age of 62, but there is no record of any DNA connection between her and other go players. Instead, Shuwa had four sons and one daughter with a concubine. At least this is what is inferred from a reference, in one of Shusaku’s letters, to a child born when Shuwa was about 30 – that would be Shuetsu. It is simply presumed that all the other children were also the offspring of the same concubine.

Whilst there was no unbroken line from the early Honinbos to the later ones, the DNA links and marriage bonds did create a web of interconnections and obligations that was extended by the practice of passing gifted pupils from family to family when heirs were needed. This happened to Shuei.

Honinbo XIV Shuwa was unusual in having three sons all of whom could have been adequate successors to the Honinbo name. Even more unusually, they all were! Actually, there was a twist in the tale in that there was an even more logical heir – following the tradition that the heir had to be the strongest player available – and that was Shuwa’s head pupil, Murase Shuho. Although he was initially disbarred from becoming Shuwa’s heir for some alleged but unknown misbehaviour, Shuho did eventually become Honinbo, too. The fact that four different people became six different Honinbos in a rather short space of time is the focus of the early part of this story.

Shuei’s childhood

Shuei was born as the second son, on the 20th day in the ninth lunar month of Kaei 5, or in our terms on Monday 1st November 1852. He was not then called Shuei, of course. He was given the name Heijiro, and to close friends like Shuho he was affectionately “Hei-san”, though we shall stick with the name Shuei. Shuho was fourteen years older and, given that he lived in with the Honinbo family, in some ways he was an older brother to Shuei.

Shuei was born in an outer residence on the Honinbo grounds in Yushima, Hongo – an elegant area then, as indicated by its popular name of Sakurababa, or “Cherry Blossom Riding Grounds” – akin to Rotten Row in London’s Hyde Park. Generally the areas to the north of the Shogun’s Palace, or Edo Castle, were then the domain of the city’s wealthy elite, though by Meiji times this was already beginning to change as modern transport links started to change the city’s networks. The “outer” house is another clue that the concubine’s residence was probably meant. The Honinbo household, in what is now Bunkyo Ward, was well placed about two kilometres due north of the palace, but for much of the period we are concerned with here, it might as well have been a galaxy away as regards contact with the old patrons of go.

Shuei’s birth took place when Shuwa, then 32, was still employed as the senior go master to the Shogun’s court. He was not a Meijin or a Godokoro, but he was acknowledged (as 8-dan) as the best player. The Honinbo dwelling had been bestowed by the shogunate, and was a notch up from the old school in Kurumazaka-cho where Shuwa had lived with Jowa. Kurumazaka, which is now Higashi-Ueno 3-chome in Taito Ward, was also where Murase Shuho was born. It is nowadays the area that starts immediately south-east of the JR Ueno station and runs eastward. Shuwa’s school was where today’s Inaricho metro station is, on the Ginza line, on Asakusa-dori.

It would have been about 300 yards from the Sumida River to the east and about two miles north east of the castle, the area in-between being mainly samurai dwellings (for daimyos and hashimotos). To the north and east then were mainly temples, though of course the infamous Yoshiwara entertainment area was also to the north (now Senzoku), but the location between temples and samurais was appropriate for the Honinbo family who were technically priests but whose main clientele or masters were samurais. (Although the school was convenient for the samurais on the way to Yoshiwara, they were not really supposed to go to Yoshiwara.) The school was only about twenty years old, having been instigated under Jowa. Murase’s carpenter father may even have worked on the school. The main Honinbo residence was still the mansion in Aioi-cho in Hongo. The temple Honmyoji is now some way to the north in Sugamo, but then it was in Hongo. Apart from some go players, the shogi Ohashis are also buried there.

This was, just, still the era of Castle Games, and so, only a month after the birth of Shuei, Shuwa took part in the last really big event of this kind in Edo Castle. After that, the event became smaller and less significant, until it finally petered away altogether as a castle ceremony in 1861, after close on 250 years, when Shuwa played his 29th annual game (he lost by 1 point). There was later a single game, played outside the palace, in 1863 but that did not involve Shuwa.

Over that decade when Shuei was first growing up, the Tokugawa shogunate, which had kept Japan isolated from the outside world, and thus stable though backward, for some 250 years, had been beset not just by the problem of pesky foreigners but by economic woes and natural disasters. It was eventually forced to relinquish power back to the Emperor in 1868, but even before that the Tokugawa subsidies that had supported go players had started to dry up. And the Meiji Emperor had more pressing concerns than to revive them.

Shuwa had not even been able to wrangle the accolade of Meijin (and with it, the formal position of Godokoro). He had applied for it at a politically inauspicious time in 1859, but he was also reaping the results of having opposed the appointment of Inoue Genan Inseki as Meijin in 1840. Without, therefore, the protection of an official title he soon became close to destitute. The young Shuei consequently had a rather impoverished upbringing.

As already mentioned, Shuei was not really Shuei then (he was Heijiro), but he was also not even a Honinbo. That was a family title. His real family name was Tsuchiya, and in that family the pecking order meant he was second to the son who was to succeed Shuwa (who died in 1873), Shuetsu. The third son, Momosaburo, was also to become a Honinbo head, as Honinbo Shugen. Since the junior status of Momosaburo/Shugen is emphasised in parts of the tale yet to unfold – and there are also rather too many Shus around for comfort! – I shall exceptionally use Momosaburo to indicate this younger son in his early career.

There was actually a fourth son, Denkichi, who had the good sense to become a merchant instead, and a daughter Kotoko, who was the fifth child. Denkichi’s chosen trade was clocks and watches. It is thanks to his concern for precise times that we know the exact dates of death of the wives mentioned above. Those details were otiose here, of course, but I gave them as a nice reminder that we often have to depend, for this era, on the fortuitous way that odd facts manage to survive. Kawamura Chisoku, a Honinbo 2-dan pupil writing in 1874, is also an unexpected source for some early information.

End of sample chapter. Please refer to the Table of Contents to get an idea of what the full book offers.

Part 2 – The Games

Volume 1 – 1870 to 1886

Preface

This is the first volume devoted to commented games of the “Meijin of Meijins”, Honinbo Shuei (1852~1907).

It may be worth adding here that the nature of electronic publishing has affected the commentary style in various ways. Many diagrams have been used to ensure readability. On the other hand, variation diagrams have been pruned drastically in favour of letters on the main figures, although I have to say that even on paper I would be a fan of using letters more often, for two reasons. One is that I think it is useful to encourage readers to visualise variations for themselves. The other is that in the early days of go publishing, with their economic constraints, this was the usual method anyway, and I like giving a vigorous nod to the flavour of the times I am writing about.

The commentaries in this particular volume (by other players on Shuei) cover the years 1870 to 1886 and so form a natural block in that Shuei then disappeared from the go scene for five years. They are also on the short side, since these games are not, for the most part, among his most famous and do not appear often in anthologies. Nevertheless, they do include commentaries by no less than Honinbo Shuho on the famous ten-game match between him and Shuei, and all are informed by the commentaries I have collected by other professionals.

All of Shuei’s games in sgf format and further information on the history of go in general are available, along with much other information and go software, on the GoGoD Database & Encyclopaedia CD. GoGoD – or Games of Go on Disc – is a long-standing partnership of myself and T Mark Hall. Details of this can be found on our website.

John Fairbairn
London, June 2012

Shuei’s Go Style

Since Shuei’s elusive go style is much talked about, most readers will be thinking about that when they view his games. Obviously his style evolved. For that reason, the games given here are in chronological order.

Although concrete examples of his style will emerge in the games, it may be useful to present here a brief summary of what to look for, but do bear in mind that the most refined examples will occur in his later games.

He preferred to play plain moves, and though these were often followed up by severe attacks, he tried to avoid fighting where possible (i.e. at branching points where it was possible to proceed with or without fighting, he chose the latter). There are few brilliant or devilish moves. They do exist, but are generally in later games not given in the present volume: e.g. White 34 in the game dated 1898–06–14 and White 92 in game 1895–12–15. But it is rather the order of his moves that is often subtly important (e.g. moves 78, 80, 82 in game 1896–07–00).

In his younger days (4-, 5-dan) the solidity – or at least an attempt at it – of his play is already conspicuous. In many games with Black he was content to win by a small margin (this is possibly his father’s influence).

He developed an amazing ability to find miai – alternative local follow-up plays. At the end of each phase of play, he always seemed to leave two or more options open to whichever group was under threat. This meant he could leave that group and grab sente elsewhere. Although often mentioned by pros, this attribute is rarely analysed. Probably it is a case of what chess grandmaster Rudolf Spielmann said about Alexander Alekhine. He said he could play all the brilliant combinations that Alekhine played. The problem was that he could never get to the positions where the combinations started! I have seen no convincing explanation of how Shuei got to his miai positions. There is also the important point that he used miai in reverse. He often left his opponents with options to puzzle over and so go astray. The commented games will show several cases where his opponents did just that. Given that in his later career he was often giving handicaps, this may even be the more important use of miai by him.

Building on his miai ability, in later life, when he always had White, he became expert at amashi strategy, though he did not use it in all his games. In amashi (a Japanese concept), White tempts Black to overreach himself with unreasonable attacks, and skilfully defends so that Black ends up with inefficient, overconcentrated shape. At some point, Black having effectively in the same process also made White strong, White will counter with the “one sword, two cuts” tactic. He often also sacrifices. See game 1898–10–16 for an example.

He often beat his opponent to the big points in the centre. (E.g. White 40 in 1896–07–00, White 76 in 1895–12–15). He had a better appreciation of the value of the centre than any of his contemporaries. He preceded Go Seigen in this respect.

He played on a single corner star point (hoshi) as White several times, and even experimented with two star points in opposite corners (vs. Ishii Senji in 1896), but only once played two on one side (nirensei; vs. Yasui Sanei in 1898). He did not invent the star-point plays but was their first main proponent.

There are several games that different commentators regard as his masterpiece, but if just one had to be picked it seems the vote may go to his last game against Karigane on 23 August 1904.

If you prefer all this summed up in one phrase, the best I have seen is “seasoned simplicity”.

In connection with the task of trying to find pointers to Shuei’s style, it is possible that the different styles of commentary used here may get in the way of that a little, unless the reader understands the whys and wherefores.

While a change of pace is always nice, the real reason the commentaries here are in diverse forms is the diversity in the sources I used. In general, I collect as many professional commentaries as possible on one game, and then make a composite, often with a dash of modern database seasoning. This is relatively easy for the famous games, but the more obscure games are not often commented on nowadays, and so I usually had to rely on commentaries by players closer to Shuei’s own time. The art of commentary was still being worked out then. Shuei himself made a major contribution in this area, which is why Part 3 of the trilogy is devoted to games he commented on. But even in his day commentaries tended to be on the short side and to assume a rather high level of go knowledge by the reader. You will also see, later, as progress was made, some examples of such ex cathedra commentaries by Honinbo Shusai which were printed verbatim but also garnished with low-level explanatory notes by early Kido staff who were grappling with the requirements for a new go-playing population. In the process, quite a few of the technical words we use today were invented in this period.

What I have sometimes chosen to do for many commentaries of this type is simply to translate them. The only changes I have made normally are in the number of diagrams, or to add a variation diagram instead of letters in the text.

Inevitably, these old commentaries were made at a time when Shuei was either not specially famous or appreciation of his style still awaited the refined palate of the connoisseur, and so comments as to how he stood out from other players are as scarce as hen’s teeth. But, be assured, they do emerge in the later volumes.

Style can also be affected by whatever is going on in the rest of one’s life. I have therefore added some notes to the head of each game to locate it within Shuei’s life and activities, but fuller details are naturally provided in Part 1 of the trilogy, The Life of Honinbo Shuei.

Game 1 – Taken in hand by the Honinbo steward

Ito Showa 7-dan was, even if unofficially, the major-domo of the Honinbo household, and although sometimes crusty he seems to have been both a good scout and a kindly coach. His main task had been to shepherd the Honinbo heir, Shusaku, until cholera snatched him away.

This game with his new charge, 17-year-old Shuei, seems to have been sponsored by an outsider, a Mr Hirose Kujuro, at whose house they played. Presumably Hirose was giving Shuei, then 4-dan, a leg up as this was just the first game in a ten-game match he hosted (except for one game). Shuei was Black throughout. That alone tells us it was a training match because the normal handicap would have been to alternate Black and two stones.

The game was played on 21 April 1870 (Meiji 3-III-21). Ito was already closing on seventy by the time of this match. He died in 1878.

The record of this game specifies how long it took: “from the hour of the snake to the hour of the sheep”. That is, roughly from 9 o’clock in the morning to 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Although Shuei was famous as a fast player anyway, this pace may have reflected Ito’s advanced age or the wishes of the host. Arguing against Ito’s age as a factor, though, is the fact that both Games 4 and 5 of this match were played on the same day as each other. But the match as a whole had a brisk pace – it was all over in a couple of months – and the fact that Ito began with two wins and a jigo in the first four games and then lost six in a row hints at tiredness.

This game, though, shows Ito at his best. It will also show how far Shuei had to go as we start the journey through his games. It is Game 19 in the list of known games.

Moves 1–2

＞＜

White 2, on the takamoku point, was not new as an answer to Black 1, but it had an upsurge in popularity at the end of the Edo period. Prior to that it was mainly a patent of a player called Yamamoto Genkichi. Yamamoto was one of several very strong independent players who were outside the iemoto system. The strongest of all was Sekiyama Sendayu, and the tussles of another, Shinomiya Yonezo, with Honinbo Jowa are famous. The independents sometimes relied on gambling go, not having state stipends, but were still sometimes allowed to fraternise with their chaste state colleagues. Yamamoto’s chief claim to fame, apart from his takamokus, was that he was awarded a posthumous 6-dan diploma (rediscovered in 2000) by Honinbo Genjo. From this we can infer that his fuseki ideas must have been well known within Honinbo circles.

Oddly enough, this early takamoku has had a certain popularity ever since, but most of all among top Kansai players.

Moves 3–7

＞＜

Then as now, the pincer-cum-extension of Black 7 was regarded as an ideal move. As to why White would allow such a move, we have to allow for the possibility that the game was treated as a training exercise. That possibility will be mentioned several times in the following games. With the demise of Castle Games, there were few truly serious games until, two or three decades later and mostly outside of Shuei’s time, newspapers began picking up the sponsorship tab. As we have seen in Part 1, the initial go activity was study groups. Private sponsors then came along, but – for whatever reason – they seem to have avoided showdown matches between two top players. Usually, as here, they seem to have been paternalistic, creating opportunities for promising young players to flex their go muscles against more established players.

Moves 8–11

＞＜

Leaving the upper side to play Black 11 may look strange today, but probably that is mainly because this joseki is hardly seen now. Black wants to avoid giving White good shape. However, if he tries to demolish White’s shape with A, White has a surprisingly good defence in B.

Moves 12–17

＞＜

Black 13, again leaving the latest scene of action, and doing so yet again with Black 15, is an interesting insight into Shuei’s emerging awareness of fuseki theory. In the case of 15, he may have been thrown by the somewhat unusual White 14. We can even sense that he is perhaps trying a little harder than usual, to justify being allowed to skip the two-stone handicap.

When Black shies away from direct contact yet again with Black 17, we are reminded of Iwamoto Kaoru’s bean-scattering style of fuseki. We would normally expect this “broad” style of play to favour White in no-komi days, especially when, as here, White is being given significant clear territory early on.

Moves 18–22

＞＜

A major element in this fuseki is whether Black’s stone in the lower left will end up being swallowed by a white whale.

Black has created two corner areas at the bottom in both of which he has a lone stone against three white ones. He has to do something about them. Black 19 lights the fuse on one but, as Black is naturally outnumbered and so on the back foot, it is hard to see how he can handle both areas well.

Moves 23–36

＞＜

With 23 Black is constrained in that he doesn’t want to push White towards the weak black stone in the lower centre. The result up to Black 35 may look bad for Black, but White is not without his problems. First, his outside shape is not proper thickness, as it has defects. He could make it thick, by defending at A. But then, when White later plays 36 anyway, as he would want to do, this 36 and the connecting move A would represent a significant measure of overconcentration. White therefore uses 36 immediately as a remote way of covering his defect. He is relying on the fact that, at the moment, the ladder relationship favours him.

Moves 37–45

＞＜

White’s main problem, though, was that Black got to play 37, which had instant ramifications for the lower left corner. Having to protect his investment there meant allowing Black to cut at 39, which is now much stronger through being backed by Black 37. That said, Black 39 still leads to a difficult game. But finding Black 45 – bullying White while reinforcing himself – made things much easier.

Moves 46–50

＞＜

By leaving the right side with 50 White is acting like a White no-komi player should, but he can only do that if he feels sure he can save his stones on the right. The key move, if you want to examine it, is an attack by Black at A. White can then get a ko.

Moves 51–62

＞＜

White had expected Black 59 and knew he was going to treat it as a case of Newton’s balls or momentum (choshi). That is 59 causes 60, which causes 61 which allows White to play 62 smoothly and so erase his ko aji. Black 61 wastefully ends up on a dame point, note.

Moves 63–66

＞＜

Black 65 takes aim at the aji in the lower left corner. But White ignored it and took the good point of 66. Shuei no doubt realised, as soon as he saw that, that Black 65 should have been at A (which is also better direction of play than B, by the way).

Moves 67–82

＞＜

But at least Shuei understood the virtue of consistency and so he tried out the aji anyway, with Black 67 and so on.

In the position after White 82, it is hard to point to anything useful that Black 65 () has done. It, too, looks destined to end up as a connection on a dame point.

Moves 83–91

＞＜

Black 83 was thin. The thick play was simply 89. But it seems as if Shuei was aware of the difference and chose his way so as to play Black 85 in an effort to create confusion (he is hoping that the shape created by Black 87 is enough to ensure safety). Perhaps he felt he was already behind. Or it may just have been youthful ardour.

Moves 92–102

＞＜

White 92 is another example, though a much more subtle one, of a momentum play. It promises him a couple of ways to settle himself.

Ultimately the game hinges on Black’s attempts to turn the White group in the lower right into a ko in the corner, but since Black has to attend to the woes of his own group in the lower left at the same time, those attempts were always doomed to failure. In the end he couldn’t even save that group.

Moves 103–120

＞＜

120 moves. Black resigned. Ito won.

End of sample commented game. The full book offers 78 additional commented games, as you can see in the Table of Contents.

Part 3 – The Commentaries

Preface

This final part of “The Life, Games and Commentaries of Honinbo Shuei” is devoted to twelve commentaries by Shuei himself on games by other players, usually his own pupils.

Honinbo Shuei (1852~1907) is celebrated as the “Meijin of Meijins”, and in particular his simple, lucid style is often mentioned as his prime achievement. The Games volumes looked at his style in some detail. But among connoisseurs his commentaries are also prized. One reason is that he showed a remarkable ability to adumbrate a game and so advanced the art of commentary significantly beyond the level of Honinbo Shuho, whose own achievements in this area were considerable. Remember that they were ploughing almost virgin ground in those days, but even by today’s standards (when commentaries are often too long and fuzzy) Shuei’s ability to draw with a true eye for line rather than daub paint on a canvas still shines out.

It is probably significant that Shuei lived in an age when there were no tournaments and so almost all his games were teaching games, on both sides of the board. It may also be significant that, unusually, he became super-strong late in life, having mostly taught himself how to reach that level (studying the games of the past was his main method, if you do not already know).

Of course, Shuei’s choice of which moves to comment on and what he says about them are also valuable in informing our understanding of his own style.

There are not too many surviving examples of Shuei’s own words. With the minor exception of a book on josekis he was not a go author, and in any case it was only at the very end of his life that newspapers began to publish go commentaries regularly. Since his relations with the Hoensha were frosty, his comments did not usually appear in their magazine. For a time he tried to publish his organisation’s games but he was poor and the publishing quality was appalling. Very, very few of the flimsy sheets of paper survive. What we have nowadays comes partly from those publications and partly from his pupils who wrote down what he said. Thank you, pupils!

Apart from the massive amount of information in the previous e-volumes, all of Shuei’s games in sgf format and further information on the history of go in general are available, along with much other information and go software, on the GoGoD Database & Encyclopaedia CD. GoGoD – or Games of Go on Disc – is a long-standing partnership of myself and T Mark Hall. Details of this can be found on our website.

John Fairbairn
London, February 2013

Introduction

Maeda Nobuaki 9-dan, noting that the description of Shuei as the “Meijin of Meijins” was a construct of later generations, and so especially worthy, also explained why he was inclined to share that view. He said that of all players “past and present” Shuei was for him “either number one or number two”, in the sense of judging a player’s strength by his clear understanding of go. He did not say who the other player would be, although, given the date (1961), other comments and the ongoing 1st Meijin tournament designed (unsuccessfully) to anoint Go Seigen as the first modern Meijin, I think we can make a safe guess.

He further added that his appreciation of Shuei’s clarity of vision struck him most in his commentaries.

Maeda is not the only professional to praise Shuei’s commentaries, of course, but he did elaborate a little beyond mere praise. He said that what appealed to him was Shuei’s swift and skilful solving of strategic problems “as if cutting through confusion with a flashing sword.” The comments were decisive and went to the heart of the matter with no faltering. They gave him “overwhelming joy”.

My own impression of the commentaries is equally favourable, though I come at them from a quite different angle. My fascination is with the way the art of commentary has evolved. The commentaries of today are very different from those of the past. They feature terms, styles and attitudes that never appeared in Shuei’s day. But even if you believe modern commentaries are markedly better, they have been built on the shoulders of giants like Shuei. In contrast, Shuei had little to build on. Printed commentaries were still a novelty in his day. Honinbo Shuho and his colleagues at the Hoensha can take the credit for introducing significant commentaries, and at first it can be difficult to see what Shuei – immediately next in line – added to them. The only way for me is to compare them with commentaries before (Shuho) and after (Shusai). And then even I can sense the incisiveness that Maeda so esteems. There is also usually more meat on the bone – the commentaries are a little longer, and, pace Nozawa Chikucho, not abusive but at least rather more robust.

That said, I do detect a willingness by Shuei to take his pupils down a peg or two! On more than one occasion, having seen an impressive-looking move that was evidently played with a certain swagger – a cap, say, or a powerful double hane – I soon learned not to be surprised that Shuei criticised it. But not in a spoil-sport way. I found that Shuei was one of those gifted people who had the knack of explaining something in such a simple way that even I could understand it and then believe it was obvious. But (like Spielmann with Alekhine), I could never see why I hadn’t even begun to think on those lines. If you want specific examples, try White 30 and 50 and Black 37 in Commentary 7.

Another factor may be that most of Shuei’s commentaries, or at least those that survive, were done when he was Meijin, which also meant when he was seriously ill. Perhaps the former fact allowed him to take a magisterial tone and the latter to take a last opportunity to get some of his legacy down on paper. And since, apart from a couple of minor postal games, we have no games of Shuei from the period in which he was actually Meijin, these commentaries have a special resonance for that reason.

It may be worth adding that Shuei did not try to provide commentaries in the entertaining way of later go journalists, who are to a large degree tasked with engaging the attention of kyu players. The examples given in the Games section (Part 2) of a Kido journalist embroidering Shusai’s comments are an early example of the evolution. In Shuei’s day, however, the interested amateur audience was assumed to be mostly around or aspiring towards 1-dan of the time, say 5 or 6-dan amateurs of today. Yet it is not very likely that Shuei aimed even at that limited audience. I suspect his main audience was simply his pupils, and that could explain why he speaks so well to the likes of pros such as Maeda.

Most of the commentaries I have seen are in a book by a Shuei pupil, Nozawa Chikucho. Judging by these, and the total lack of journalistic flourishes, it would be easy to infer that Shuei wrote his own commentaries. Yet as mentioned in Part 1 (The Life of Shuei), he baulked at putting brush to paper himself and had his wife write his letters and a professional calligrapher write his diplomas. He did write out the pairings at the Shishokai, always with the odd characteristic of shyly folding a small sheet of paper in half and using it like a mini notebook. It was in those days normal to try to interpret a writer’s nature from his hand, and Shuei’s supposedly conveyed a “guileless” man. However, he did also write out at least some commentaries in his own hand. Although these were specimens in his later years that were not meant for display – they were drafts for newspaper versions – the few that remain are collectors’ items. They confirm his own description of his calligraphic technique as “clumsy”, with crossings out and ink running out and turning from black to grey as he rushed to get his complete thought down. Most often, therefore, he must have just uttered his commentaries and they were written down by the lucky pupil. This must especially be the case for most of those given here where Shuei was ailing severely in his final months.

But when it came to commentaries for the newspapers, he did compose them entirely by himself, often in his sickbed. At this stage this was his only income. In one case, when he was invalided in bed, he dashed off a commentary in running script (joined-up writing) and asked his pupil Karigane to take it to the newspaper offices personally, as they wouldn’t be able either to read it or to understand it without his help.

Incidentally, Nozawa Chikucho is most famous now as the person who dared to criticise Honinbo Shusai by writing “Commentaries on the Commentaries”, a series of articles picking apart Shusai’s efforts. This is usually presented as part of a personal spat between Nozawa and Shusai, but Nozawa was noted for his exemplary integrity and I’m strongly inclined to believe that part of what drove him was his dissatisfaction with Shusai’s commentaries compared with those of Shuei that he had cherished and collected.

The commentaries below are naturally all translations, and are contained in quotation marks. Apart from my own additional notes, the presentation follows the originals (with the exception that I have provided more diagrams). This will require some work that the modern reader may not be used to. Although I am usually like the ignoble ascetic who takes warm showers (“Er, I like cold showers”), I can see that there is much merit in the hair-shirt approach, and so I have not been afraid to offer it here.

“Hair-shirt” actually doesn’t mean much more than expecting you to play the game over on a board. Maybe we should forget what a hurry-hurry world we live in at present and do that more often anyway.

Commentary 1

White: Tsuchiya Shugen 4-dan
Black (no komi): Karigane Junichi 4-dan
Published July 1902

Despite what I say above, this first commentary was indeed for publication – for the Jiji Shinpo newspaper. It may not yet have applied to Shuei, but the usual practice that developed in the early days of newspaper go was for the newspaper to pay a fee to a top player and then leave him to get on with everything. That meant the fee-taker had to find and pay the players, provide the venue and food, and write (or dictate) the commentary.

Moves 1–50
29 at 15

＞＜

"In this case it is better to play Black 17 at A and then, after White 18, Black 19, White 26, to approach the upper left corner at B.

"Although White 26 is a common pattern, connecting at 15 here, and then Black C, White 26, would help his two stones on the outside by leaving a cutting point at D.

"Black 31 is better played low at 39. Then if White B, Black 33, White 34, Black 40 is good momentum. Or if White B is the cap at 41, Black’s extension to E applies.

"For White 44, bumping in at White 50 is the correct technique.

“White 46 should fight by playing the hane at F, then Black 49, White 50, Black 46, White G.”

Moves 51–100
54: takes; ko: 59, 83; 85: connects ko

＞＜

"Black 61 is unappealing. It is better posture to play Black A, White B, Black 62, White C, Black 96, White D, then peep, after which Black E is good.

“Black 65 was a very bad move. There was no other move here except E.”

Moves 101–150

＞＜

Moves 151–200

＞＜

Moves 201–221

＞＜

Black (Karigane) won by 3 points.

End of sample commentary. The full book offers 11 additional commentaries by Shuei.

Appendix – Books by John Fairbairn

This is not a definitive list of every other go book I have written, translated or contributed to. It is merely the main ones that are available as of 2015. Those in paper form are all published by Slate & Shell.

Kamakura Extensive commentaries on the entire ten-game wartime match between Go Seigen and Kitani Minoru, with long biographical sections.

Final Summit Similar treatment for matches between Go and Takagawa Kaku.

9-dan Showdown Similar treatment for matches between Go and Fujisawa Hosai.

The Meijin’s Retirement Game: Honinbo Shusai versus Kitani Minoru Detailed commentary and background, and includes extensive discussion of the Kawabata novel Master of Go based on this game.

Old Fuseki versus New Fuseki: Honinbo Shusai plays Go Seigen Detailed commentary of a famous game, and includes extensive discussion of the famous Japanese book that formalised the New Fuseki movement.

Power/Brilliance A combined ‘flip-book’ that includes detailed commentaries and historical background on (a) The Insha Game: Honinbo Shusai versus Karigane Junichi and (b) Jowa’s Three Brilliancies: Honinbo Jowa plays Akaboshi Intetsu.

The Go Companion (with T Mark Hall) A pot pourri of articles on just about every aspect of go. A sort of bedtime book of go.

The Go Consultants (with T Mark Hall) Detailed coverage of a famous consultation game featuring the actual thoughts of the players, Go Seigen and Kitani Minoru versus Segoe Kensaku and Suzuki Tamejiro.

* * *

Also available (as of January 2015) in interactive SmartGo e-book format are:

The Life, Games and Commentaries of Honinbo Shuei A major treatment of the Meijin of Meijins, with a full-length biography and commentaries on almost 100 games.

The Go Consultants A version of the original Slate & Shell paper edition.

Go Seigen’s Ten-Game Matches, Volume 1 Four selected games from the original thirty games in the Slate and Shell paper edition of 9-dan Showdown.

Gateway To All Marvels A major treatment of the most influential go book ever produced, the Xuanxuan Qijing. All 466 problems from every known edition of this ancient Chinese classic are given, their names are explained, the various solutions are given and discussed (including many mistakes by pros), and the ancient accompanying texts are translated and annotated, including the Go Classic in Thirteen Chapters. The themes and key techniques of all the problems are also discussed and indexed.

Unfinished Symphony Extensive commentaries on the shortened ten-game match between Go Seigen and Karigane Junichi, with comprehensive historical background.

New Ways in Go A complete translation, with notes, of Honinbo Shuho’s classic Hoen Shinpo.

Today We Have a Splendid Feast All the surviving problems from the 17th century graduated tsumego course devised by the Meijin Inseki, Dosetsu. An introduction describing Dosetsu and the story of the book is included.

Wonders of Life and Death Honinbo Shusai’s 1910 tsumego classic, Shikatsu Myoki, with an introduction by the editor. It includes 120 problems (with solutions), most original and many taxing and ingenious.

Click here to see all the books together.

* * *

Also available in Kindle e-book editions (diagrams not interactive), via Amazon, are:

The Life, Games and Commentaries of Honinbo Shuei As above, but spread over several separate volumes.

Inoue Genan Inseki A short biography of Honinbo Jowa’s main rival and one of the most interesting characters in the go world.

Gateway To All Marvels Same as in the SmartGo edition.

* * *

The GoGoD Database and Encyclopaedia having been available on CD (GoGoD = Games of Go on Disc) for over ten years, was converted in January 2014 to Games of Go on Download (www.gogodonline.co.uk) but restricted now mostly to the database, currently around 83,000 games. The database is also packaged with SmartGo Kifu (along with GoGoD’s massive biographical dictionary of go players).

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Copyright © by John Fairbairn, London 2012, 2013.

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