I was feeling fed up with the usual grind of transcribing games and editing drafts of my books, and also to give my eyes a rest from a computer screen I set to thinking what I had learned most of all from the various books I've already done. I was rather surprised that I had an instant answer: the value of tsume moves.

I can't really say I've learned how to use them, because I don't play normally, but they have made a big impression on me for two reasons. One is the frequency of comments recommending them. Honinbo Shusai was especially fond of recommending them. The other was that people like Shusai were recommending these moves to other professionals. It seems they are (or were in his day) something of a blind spot for even very good players. Without thinking too deeply about it, I assumed that at least part of the reason was that a tsume (checking move) can feel like gote. This, I reasoned, was also why tsumes are relatively rare in amateur go. There, perhaps, we can pinpoint the basic flaw as not knowing the difference between sente and the initiative. Tsumes are very good at storing up latent energy, and so imply having the initiative, but it seems even pros can overlook this. Indeed, I am becoming more and more inclined to think that various moves beloved by AI share the same characteristics as tsume and are too often overlooked by humans for the same reason. I am thinking of moves such as shoulder hits. Or even honte.

But, as I say, I did not examine this more deeply. Until today. I am working on another book in the Museum of Go Theory project, a collection of games by Chen Zixian. Chen was one of the greats and had a great rival, Zhou Xiaosong, regarded as the Shuwa of China (they were more or less contemporaneous). Chen died relatively young, but Zhou lived long enough to write a book of commentaries that was published in 1872. This is regarded as one of the two great commentary classics of all time. The other, published in or soon after 1719, is even better, but both by far exceed anything in old Japan, both in quality and quantity. We are not talking about apples compared to pears; we are talking about apples compared to bread crumbs.

This latter book was the Jianshantang Yipu, or Xu Xingyou's Go Manual. Xu was a pupil of Huang Longshi even though he was older. After Huang's death (which, by one dubious account, Xu contrived), Xu ruled the roost as the daguoshou (Meijin) of the age. He knew what he was talking about, in other words. And we are blessed that his 62 commentaries include several on Huang Longshi's games.

The connection with tsumes is to do with the way my mind works. All words have associations, which differ from person to person as well as culture to culture, but we all make use of them extensively. But my job as a professional translator makes me, I believe, a bit more consciously aware of them than for most people. For example, one job I had, for a major petrochemical company, was to advise on the acceptability of names for pesticides to be sold in Japan. One of those I deemed as unacceptable was because it sounded like the word for underpants. I often look back and wish I'd had the courage to let that one through!

Anyway, the way the association went in my mind was Xu Xingyou >> studio name = Jianshantang >> Jianshan is an allusion to the Book of Changes >> did he choose it because of tsumes?

Most people will need some background here. The Book of Changes is a very ancient book which began as a primitive fortune telling book. Confucius came along and redefined many of the original terms (which were to do with things like booty, slaves and death of kings), rather in the way western players have redefined Japanese go terms such as sabaki and thickness in English. But Confucius made a much better job of it, and so his version became the standard one - a much loved one, used daily by Go Seigen, for example. In Confucius's hands it became a book of wisdom. The book takes 64 hexagrams as symbolic of an important aspect of human life. This symbol is discussed in various ways, sometimes with further symbols, sometimes with interpretations. None of these is exclusive. They are all suggestive associations. The idea is to make you think about a topic which is bothering you. To do this, you choose a hexagram at random, then consult the suggested associations, which are designed to make you think about the topic in a guided but still personal way. At first, with one hexagram, the thinking can feel a bit woolly, but advanced users will use tricks such as inverting the hexagram and consulting the associations for the new one produced - this tends to guide you into seeing an opposite point of view. Or you can consult the adjacent hexagrams (which are cleverly placed in order). This can guide you into lateral thinking. I don't use the Book of Changes myself, but I rather admire those who can use it fluently.

That's enough background for now. The point is, jianshan is an allusion to the Book of Changes, and specifically to the hexagram (below), No. 52.



All hexagrams consist of two of eight possible trigrams made up of a combination of solid and/or broken lines. Here we have the trigram for 'mountain' (solid, broken, broken) surmounted by the very same trigram. In other words, 'mountain upon mountain' or 'combined mountains', which is what jianshan 兼山 means. The actual name of the whole hexagram is gen4 = 艮.

The initial, laconic commentary on each hexagram tends to be somewhat opaque, which is why so many commentaries on the commentary have arisen, but here the name can be translated as "checking and stopping" or (induced) "stillness", and the initial commentary tells us that resting comes from one's back, and that leads to a feeling of being unaware of one's body. In such a state, one can walk through one's courtyard and not notice any of the people there. "There will be no error."

That very common "no error" phrase (无咎), or variations of it, tends to be used in the BoC for cases where some action may, on the basis of common sense or custom, be considered wrong. Not so, says the Sage.

In go terms: "Tsume? Gote, tiny extension, only on the third line, too slow. Load of bollocks. Not so, says the Sage."

But when one looks at the various interpretations or comments in the expanded commentaries (by other authors, including Confucius himself), we begin to see how people like Shusai must have viewed tsume. Some examples: "When one's movements and restings [tsume] take place at the proper time, this way of proceeding is brilliant and intelligent." "The superior man does not go in his thoughts beyond the position in which he is" [there are times to be satisfied with gote]. "Though evil threatens, he will not fall into error" [prophylaxis].

There are further possible insights if we look at, say, the preceding hexagram (thunder = startling movement). One I like there is that when there is something like a crash of thunder that "terrifies all within 100 miles" (e.g. an invasion), one will be like the worshipper who is not startled into letting go his ladle when pouring a libation to the sacrificial spirits. Imagery like this really works! A minor but also effective form of imagery often used in the BoC is the use the solid lines (yang) and broken lines (yin) as symbols on their own. The lines are regarded as starting at the bottom and so the sixth line is at the top. In this case it is a solid line, implying stopping and completeness. Sounds like tsume again!

My interpretation of Hexagram 52 in terms of tsume is my own and I am liberty to change it tomorrow. But using the hexagram has given me pause for thought - literally. Whether that's useful or not is a subjective matter. I feel it almost certainly is but I'm too lazy to use it. However, I'm pretty certain, if you have read this far, that I've made you think more about tsume for yourself, in your own way. And that is the true, improving way to listen to masters like Shusai and Xu Xingyou.

Coffee break over now. Get back to work!

What then is a tsume move? A checking extension or a checking extension in front of the opponent's strong group? Something else?

Interesting, but mostly beyond my understanding.

However, I have started to notice "meaningful" patterns in my Go games, so I can't deny the power of "superstition". For example, I think I unusually often control D8 or 4K,4J (though normally in a semeai, does this mean DH is something sacrificeable, though not quite suicidal?, perhaps like a double hane? It seems to have something to do with water and maybe time, at least for me. I can't clearly distinguish which are personal and which are general.). There are several other more subtle things too, though I am certainly a beginner here. For example, things to do with go rank 6d (mine?), 8p, 13d, ... ? Even messages in winning margins, though such things were only made apparent to me after the 2018 WAGC, particularly in a game against the Thai player. Or simply playing the same opening as Shin Jinseo perhaps has effects. Perhaps even quite dark references.

When you talk of tsume, I think of "intrinsic" value locally on the board, independent of fighting.

52 makes me think of cards 13*4, EB, BE, Bill's statement "just be" (I can't remember context), Eboraci (York), Z+Z.

isn't mountain on mountain just the character chu1, "go out"? I put 3 mountains into the dictionary and it produced 3 cactus like shapes for hui4: plants.

I don't think anyone knows. I have been told that asking the question leads to "bogs", I take that to mean that the spirit of inquire is not present.

Daniel:



No. That would be 岀, which is Kangxi radical 46 (mountain) and has six strokes. It occurs only in an ancient dictionary but appears to be a variant of 屾, which is read shen and means 'two mountains'. But 出 = 'go out' has five strokes and is Kangxi radical 17 凵 (kan). As far as I know, the Chinese are (or are expected to be) scrupulous about maintaining the distinction. (Zoom if you can't see the difference.)

However, in Japan 岀 (six strokes) is sometimes used as an unauthorised hyogai kanji in place of 出 (the true six-stroke character not being part of the Japanese historical experience). I've seen it in print, and I think they count it as Radical 46 (mountain), but it's mainly a handwritten form and has a variant where the bottom part is 々.

Robert:
A tsume is a move that approaches (for which the Japanese here is 'yoru') an opponent's position from the side, without touching, with a view to preventing the opponent from expanding on that side. In other words. it is a 'checking' move. Usually, it has to be made from a strong friendly position in order to work. It is usually a two-space extension because any more than that weakens the check, which makes it pointless to play it. A one-spacer (as in a "Honinbo's ikken-tobi") is, however, a genuine variant.

It is possible sometimes to combine a check with a bigger extension and in that case a tsumebiraki (checking extension) results. A two-space check could also be called a tsumebiraki when the extension is being stressed, but that is not at all common. I think I'm right in saying that for Shusai the term is always simply tsume. He doesn't fart around with bigger extensions and neither should we if we want to understand the true power of a tsume. Since had had NFL in London yesterday, I'm tempted to say a tsume is the linebacker of go.

Such a good read that it will require two sittings to contemplate. I will be back.