Success at go requires the tactic of the soldier, the exactness of the mathematician, the imagination of the artist, the inspiration of the poet, the calm of the philosopher, and the greatest intelligence. — Zhang Yunqi, Weiqi de faxia, Beijing, Internal document of the Chinese Weiqi Institute 1991, p. 2
K-chk! The sound drifts to my ears as I make my way past stacks of books and people comfortably reading in plush chairs by the windows that span the wall. K-chk! It comes again as I progress through the library. Before I know it, the stacks open up to reveal cream-colored wooden tables and chairs inhabited by an assortment of people bent over in focused intensity. The source of that resounding snap is in front of me: the snap of slate stones being played on a large wooden board. I stand and watch for a moment, the players oblivious to my presence.
I first came across Go when I was in middle school. I have always been a voracious reader–you name it, I read it–but somehow, I moved from reading Homer and Jules Verne to books less highly regarded- i.e., manga. One of my favorite series was Death Note, so I was thrilled to discover the artist had illustrated another series, called Hikaru no Go. The series is an inspiring coming-of-age tale about a young boy haunted by the spirit of an ancient Go master. Initially resistant, the boy comes to learn and love the abstract strategy game and grows up to become a pro in his own right. I became enthralled by the game, reading books about its history and solving puzzles; before long I was looking online for people to play against.
The rules of Go are simple; two players take turns placing black or white stones on a 19×19 grid board, and whoever captures the most territory is the winner. However, if the rules of the game are simple, the strategies needed to obtain victory are complex. Considered more strategically challenging than chess, Go inspired chess grand master Edward Lasker to say
While the Baroque rules of chess could only have been created by humans, the rules of go are so elegant, organic, and rigorously logical that if intelligent life forms exist elsewhere in the universe, they almost certainly play go.
That’s fitting, given that the number of possible board configurations in Go (2 x 10170) exceeds the number of atoms in the universe (1080), while chess has just 1050 legal positions.
The game is played on a solid block of wood, called a Goban in Japanese, which represents the earth. Each right angle signifies uprightness. The black and white stones stand for yin and yang, while their placement across the board represents the heavenly bodies. Unlike in chess or checkers, in Go the stones are placed at intersections. Nineteen thin, lacquered black lines run parallel to each edge; as a result, there are 360 plus 1 different positions at which to play. 360 represents the number of days in the ancient lunar year, the one is seen as supreme and the source of the other numbers, and governor of the four quarters. The four quarters of the board represent each of the four seasons. The 72 points around the edge of the board come from the weeks of the calendar, and the 9 black circles, called stars or hoshi, which correspond to the nine lights of heaven and mark the locations where handicap stones would be placed if they are used.
The best boards are made out of Kaya wood. Kaya boards have a bright, vivid color and a hardness that is ideal for use with shell and slate stones, which produce a lively and resonant click when struck without damaging the board. However, the wood is slow-growing and boards are typically cut from trees over 700 years old, leading to high prices. Thus, more affordable spruce, also called shinkaya, has become the popular choice for the modern player. Go boards also come in several other woods, all of which are hard woods and have a resonant quality so that placement of the stones results in a clear, sharp sound.
Arguably the oldest of all known intellectual games, Go is the national game of Japan. It originated in China and is commonly attributed to Emperor Shun, who reigned from 2255 to 2206 B.C.E., which would make it approximately 4200 years old. Go was introduced to Japan in the year 735 C.E., when it was brought back to the country by an envoy to China. Originally played by the noble class, it would eventually reach samurai, monks, and even tradespeople. All three of Japan’s greatest generals, Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and Ieyasu, were devotees of the game as it was the cognitive equivalent of a martial art. The first state institution opened to teach Go in the late 1500’s, and the Go Academy was founded soon after Ieyasu became Shogun in 1603. The game has only continued to increase in popularity over time. A 2016 survey by the International Go Federation’s 75-member nations found 46 million players worldwide, although the actual number is likely to be even greater.
Part of the game’s modern popularity is due to its reputation as a martial art for the mind, with Go seen as having strategic value in business and political communities, in children’s education, and in tournaments where victory is a way to display national pride. The game can help children to improve their focus and memory. Children who are especially talented can join Go schools as young as five and turn pro before their twelfth birthday like Lee Se-Dol, one of the greatest Go players of the modern era. Professional Go tournaments are held around the world, with prize purses as high as $500,000. The major Japanese tournaments come with titles and purses in the hundreds of thousands. With dozens of competitions held each year, star players can earn millions of dollars. Even those who do not become household names can make a good living from the game through local tournaments and teaching. The publication of the international thriller Shibumi and the translation of Nobel prize winner Kawabata’s The Master of Go in the 1970s, as well as the appearance of Go in movies like A Beautiful Mind, helped to spread the game to the West. But, it was the emergence of the megahit manga and anime series Hikaru no Go that sparked the most recent resurgence of the the national sport of Japan both at home and abroad.
K-chk! That resonant clack as stone hits board calls me out of my reveries. The people playing in the Cambridge Public Library today are members of the Massachusetts Go Association, which is just one division of the American Go Association. This is but one of many meets that are held each week across the Boston area, each of which attracts a wide range of people. Go doesn’t appeal to just the young or the old. Its appeal doesn’t vary based on where you come from, how educated you are, or what gender you are. It is a game full of possibility and inundated with a rich cultural history. Here in the library today I see men and women, children and adults, and skin that runs the gamut of colors. I smile, glad for the chance to finally play in person against someone else who loves the game. I greet a woman whose game has just finished and slide into a seat.