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there, tucked into his memory, deep within a cave of abstract thoughts: information and ideas about pawns and squares to be used, discarded, or ignored—all in perfect cadence and synchronicity. Studying the games of masters from the past and present, Bobby seemed to appropriate and learn from many: the intuitive combinational ability of Rudolf Spielmann, the accumulation of small advantages as demonstrated by Wilhelm Steinitz, the almost mystical technique José Capablanca had of avoiding complications, the deep but beautiful murkiness of Alexander Alekhine. As one chess master said of him: “Bobby virtually inhaled chess literature. He remembered everything and it became part of him.” The boy—and then the man—had one salient cognitive goal, although he didn’t express it openly: He wanted to
understand
.
    He enjoyed playing over what are called miniature games, short encountersof usually twenty moves or less, as if they were musical exercises, works of art unto themselves, usually with only one pervasive idea.
    Beginner’s books such as
An Invitation to Chess
and other primers were quickly discarded as Bobby then became engrossed in advanced works such as
Practical Chess Openings
and
Basic Chess Endings;
the two volumes of
My Best Games of Chess
by Alexander Alekhine; and a then newly published book,
500 Master Games of Chess
. He was also particularly interested in the collection titled
Morphy’s Games of Chess
, which displayed the great player’s tactical ingenuity and his adherence to three general principles: rapid development of one’s pieces, the importance of occupying or capturing the center squares of the board, and mobility—the necessity of keeping lines, ranks, files, and diagonals open. Bobby absorbed these lessons and would act on them for the rest of his life. He once told master Shelby Lyman that he’d read thousands of chess books and retained the best from each.
    It should be stressed that these works wouldn’t have been easy to read even for an experienced adult player: They aren’t accessible unless a person has the drive to excel in the abstraction of chess. That an eight- or nine-year-old boy had the power of concentration to get through them was highly unusual. That the same boy was able to understand and absorb what he read was nothing short of remarkable. Later, Bobby would increase the degree of difficulty by reading chess books in multiple languages.

    In the realm of academics Bobby’s level of achievement was more erratic. Aside from summer camps, the first classes Bobby ever attended were at the Brooklyn Jewish Children’s School, a kindergarten, wherehe was taught songs by rote for Hanukkah and Purim, in both English and Yiddish, a language he didn’t know. He couldn’t relate to the other children. At first, he couldn’t figure out the purpose of a dreidel—a four-sided spinning top that’s played with during the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah. He didn’t like the idea that he had to wear a uniform—a white shirt and pressed pants.And in the restroom he may have seen that his penis was different from the rest: He wasn’t circumcised. After a few weeks Regina withdrew him from the school. Although she was Jewish, she wasn’t religiously observant; Bobby never had a bris (the circumcision ceremony usually performed on the eighth day afterbirth for Jewish boys),and he later claimed that he’d received no training in Judaic customs or theology and was never taken to a synagogue for religious purposes. He may have simply failed to recall it.
    Attempts by Regina and Joan to engage Bobby in schoolwork were usually fruitless.Bobby could concentrate on puzzles or chess for hours, but he fidgeted and grew restless when confronted with reading, writing, and arithmetic. Attending the Brooklyn public schools was also problematic. He was a loner and invariably separated himself from the other children, possibly because of acute shyness or fear of competition.By the time he reached