Brooks Hansen. The Chess Garden.

Brooks Hansen’s The Chess Garden is about the spiritual life of Dr. Uyterhoeven, which is detailed through twelve letters, in a form of an allegory, written to his wife who in turns reads them to the town they’ve called home. To call this novel allegorical fantasy sounds, to my ears, dismissive, so I’ll refrain. The book is a marvel of invention, of ideas, and of heart. Its end I find thematically similar to John Crowley’s Little, Big, though Hansen’s novel is not quite on the level of that masterpiece.

The novel’s structure is one of its biggest strengths, and one of its few flaws. It switches between the Dutch doctor’s wife and town, his biography, and his startling letters. They fit perfectly together, much like the golden leaf cloaks pieced together by monks in the Antipodes, the imaginary land the doctor visits. But I call it a flaw due to the tediousness of the biographical sections, which I concede are necessary, but, at times, a bore to get through. It’s partly due to the dry, detached manner of Hansen’s prose style. The style works in perfect conjunction with the fantastical elements, in a restrained way that casts them as almost natural, be it the wax-dripping candle trees, the large silver lake, or the chasm of a thousand tumbling dice.

The imaginary, star-shaped land the doctor visits, the Antipodes, is populated with game pieces, mostly chess pieces, but not exclusively so. As his adventures begins, events seem to happen random, with an eye more for imagery than plot, until Hansen introduces key elements and things that happened prior are cast in a new light. The island hosts a group the doctor calls vandals, who wish to destroy goods that are the essence of goods. So if you have the good cane and destroy it, the usage of a cane – its function and purpose – is lost to memory. The doctor sides against the vandals, and it isn’t until later that he understands the need to abandon earthly goods. This is where the spirituality kicks in. Overall, Hansen handles the topic rather well, except for one incredibly awkward scene when Dr. Uyterhoeven speaks of Christ and discusses his own spiritual life. Despite the embarrassing conversation, Hansen finds more effective means to convey his message, such as in the words of one character: “What matters won’t change. What changes don’t matter.” Which is the essence of this very spiritual book, not to mention the nature of the afterlife – at least in the Christian sense.