Check & Mate

“[F]or a moment—a horrible, terrifying, disorienting moment—I am angry with her. With my beautiful, intelligent, talented fourteen-year-old sister who doesn’t know, doesn’t understand how hard I’m trying. When I turned fourteen—on the very stupid day of my stupid birthday—everything changed, and I lost Dad, I lost chess, I lost the very me I’d been.”

Even early in the novel, the pressure of responsibility and suppressed emotions begins to build within Mallory. This is one of those moments where, even though she catches herself, she starts to feel angry at Sabrina’s treatment of her. This speaks to her prioritization of others over herself, the disregard of her own feelings, and a disconnect from the things she enjoyed as a child.

“[S]uddenly I’m afraid again. That she’ll forget all about me, that I’ll never measure up to Colorado and the people she’ll meet there. I’m about to lose her, I know I am. It seems such an inevitable, predestined conclusion, I don’t even bother voicing my fears.”

Mallory’s worries about Easton growing past her and moving on reveal Mallory’s insecurities. They also reveal Mallory’s instinct to run away from others rather than be abandoned first, providing an empathetic demonstration of how she processes emotional distress.

“I think about a deserted chessboard. Only the white king on it, standing on the home square. Alone, untethered, safe from threats. Free to roam, at least.”

Mallory uses one of the symbols of the novel: the king on a chess board. The king becomes a symbol of Mallory’s suppressed emotions and vulnerability, put into a place of safety on the board where no one can hurt her. She feels isolated, but she is grateful to be safe.

“Plan Fake Your Way Through Chess is going to need some serious reworking.”

This is an important moment because it is when Mallory finally acknowledges that she is being drawn back into the world of chess. Although she does still fight the pull a bit afterwards, this is when she recognizes that she cannot distance herself from chess as she thought.

“He doesn’t fist-pump when I win. He doesn’t even tell me that I did good. He just nods once, like every single one of my victories is expected and his faith in me is as solid as a boulder. As though he couldn’t marvel at me playing well any more than at the sun setting at night.”

Nolan’s unflinching support of Mallory provides a steady source of confidence for her. She feels seen and understood when he shows approval on each of her wins instead of surprise.

“Maybe, if you’d minded your own business, none of this would have—”

This phrase recurs in Mallory’s thoughts, recalling the moment when her father accused her of being at fault for the dissolution of his marriage. The words haunt Mallory, driving her to deeper guilt and pain that act as the driving force behind her emotional isolation.

“Oh God. I’ve never slept with someone else. Never. Not like this. Not…what’s happening?”

This is when Mallory sleeps with Nolan in a non-sexual capacity and feels that something is changing in her. She has allowed herself to be vulnerable with Nolan in a way she has avoided for years, and the new feeling frightens her.

“Oz, Emil, Nolan…even the good ones, they don’t know how it feels. They don’t know what it’s like, being told that you’re inherently destined to be second best. […] But it’s not true. And once we know it, they cannot take it away from us.”

Defne’s words to Mallory explain the difficulties of misogyny while asserting the power women can claim. Her words help Mallory understand her experiences and find her inner strength.

“Do you know how incredible you are? Nolan asked me in Toronto. I told him yes, while still believing deep down that I wasn’t anything special after all. Which one is it, then?”

This is important moment illustrates the awful power of internalized misogyny. When women are pressured by society to believe that they have lesser value than men, they can hold strong to these feelings of low self-worth even if they are staunch feminists.

“‘Do you think I can win the Challengers?’ […] She takes my other hand, and I feel held. I feel comforted. I feel stronger. ‘Mallory. I think you can win the World Championship.’”

This is one of the first times when Mallory feels truly comforted and supported. She has not felt like a child or felt the support of a parent in the years her mother has been sick and relied on her. The exchange demonstrates the power of this maternal comfort as well as the importance of women supporting each other.

“I want to say it back, how much I love her and miss her, not only having her near, but…being someone’s daughter, taken care of, protected. Having someone standing between me and the world.”

As Mallory gains support and community in the world of chess, she recognizes how much she misses being supported as a young woman should be. She is exhausted after years of caretaking and overwhelmed by her rapid rise in chess and the attention it has brought, and she simply wants a mother’s comfort.

“I’ll play against…Nolan. It’s incandescent, the blend of joy and excitement that seizes me. Something utterly new and reckless finally allowed through the floodgates.”

This is when Mallory is, she assumes, a move or so away from defeating Koch and becoming the winning Challenger. Having nearly achieved it, she allows herself to fully want something for herself for the first time in many years.

“There’s been enough soul-searching for today. Time to engage in some soul ditching.”

Even though Mallory has been opening herself up more, her instincts to hide have not been put aside. Exhausted and disappointed, she wants to suppress her feelings again. The casual, humorous way she expresses this indicates that it is a sentiment she is accustomed to.

“‘I…if I become your second, won’t I be training with you all the time? I’ll know everything. I’ll be so familiar with your style, you’ll have a hard time taking me by surprise again. If I become your second, I’ll know you.’ There is a beautiful, indecipherable half smile on his lips. ‘You think I don’t want you to know me?’”

Nolan here reveals the joy possible when one allows others to know them. He is so ecstatic about working with Mallory that he shows her what it might be like to allow herself to open up. His lack of fear at the idea alludes to the idea that vulnerability doesn’t need to be scary in the way Mallory has perceived it for so long.

“Suddenly I am furious. Explosively, incandescently furious. He—he manipulated me. He pretended to self-disclose, and instead turned me into…whatever the hell this is. He sacrificed his queen to checkmate me, and how dare he? How dare he come into my home and analyze my family as though we were a Morphy game?”

Nolan offers vulnerability, sharing a story of his own, in an effort to help Mallory understand that she is not at fault for her father’s actions. Mallory, though, is not ready to open those wounds, so she turns to anger instead. She also uses the symbol of a chess game again to represent her own life, treating personal interactions like a competition instead of a relationship.

“You’re the one who ignores people. Leave them behind before they leave you, right? Spare yourself the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

This is one of the moments when Nolan challenges Mallory and her instincts to hide. He turns to blunt honesty, confronting Mallory about her tendency to run away, as Mallory had refused to acknowledge this conclusion on her own.

“He told me once that sometimes, with some people, it’s not about winning or losing. That with some people, it’s just about playing. Though for the longest time, I didn’t really believe him.”

Nolan’s words here are about his grandfather, who taught him that sometimes, chess can be about enjoyment instead of victory. This approach offers insight into love and relationships, as well. Mallory previously handles relationships with the expectation that she will “lose” their affection, viewing interpersonal dynamics like a game, but she learns throughout the narrative that she should simply enjoy her experiences with her loved ones.

“‘You like having the upper hand. Feeling like you’re doing something for others. Like you’re in control.’ […] ‘I think it’s easier for you to be with people when you feel needed than when you need them. Less risky. Less messy, right?’”

Yet again, Nolan chooses blunt honesty with Mallory. He identifies the way that altruism can actually become a form of power and self-protection, as it has for Mallory at times. She has made her family reliant on her financially, and she uses this dependency as a replacement for connection and self-worth instead of fostering emotional intimacy with them.

“I never cry. […] I never cried, even when I wanted to, because when I asked myself if I had the right to those tears, the answer was always no, and it was easy to stop myself. But I’m sobbing now. I hide my face in my hands and wail loudly, messily, fat drops sliding down my face, pooling in my palms. At once, the last few years all feel so real. All my failures, my mistakes, my bad choices. All the losses, the minutes, and the hours spent going I the opposite direction of life, the fact that Dad is not here anymore…It’s all stuck in my throat, dirty rags and broken glass, suffocating, gut wrenching, and all of a sudden I don’t now how I’m going to bear the hurt of what being me has become for even half a second longer.”

This is Mallory’s breaking point. After years of caretaking and over six months of being inundated with reminders of her father through chess, she finally releases years of emotions in a cathartic moment that helps prepare her for her mother’s honesty and guidance.

“[W]hen I think about chess, I don’t think about Archie, or about the other women.’ She smiles through her tears. ‘When I think about chess, I think about my brilliant oldest daughter, doing what she loves, and kicking ass while she’s at it’ […] I feel whole in a way I haven’t in over four years.”

Mrs. Greenleaf uses her conversation with Mallory to help rewrite the narrative Mallory has chosen to believe about chess. Mallory hid chess from her mother to avoid bringing up painful memories of her father, but her mother changes the narrative by explaining that chess, for her, is about Mallory, not about her father.

“Things are so much better than they were even just six months ago. I appreciate what you’ve done for us, but now it’s time to focus on what you want.”

Mrs. Greenleaf finally reasserts her role and authority as a loving parent. She re-establishes a healthier family dynamic and pushes Mallory to step back and be a daughter again. The relief of pressure enables Mallory to participate in the World Championship and pursue the reparation of her other relationships.

“I knew they needed me. But I never quite understood how much I needed them before this year.”

This is an important realization for Mallory, who has used her family’s reliance on her as an excuse to avoid pain and other difficult emotions. Back in the role of daughter and freed of excess responsibility, she can recognize how much she needs her family in return, which helps her continue to open up more to others and heal.

“‘I think that, maybe because of what happened with your dad, you tend to believe that when people mess up, that’s it. They don’t get a second chance. And sometimes that’s true, but other times…’ She shrugs. ‘I’m here. Your family is here.’”

Easton’s arrival in Italy is important because she helps Mallory face another bad habit of hers: running away before people can leave her first. Once they reconcile, Easton also helps Mallory come to terms with the fact that she did not treat Nolan well and that she can get a second chance.