‘AS GOD IS my witness, if you pick up the second King of Spades you can’t then
remarry the Queen! Ask the Tsarina if you don’t believe me.’
The opening ceremony is the dedication of objects; the closing ceremony
is the thump and yelp of a silverback, probably neutered. No compromise
is brooked: you can be in or out but not somewhere between. Inattention
explains the black market in lost pieces, though many are stolen. Losers
may resort to sabotage, a virulent flu strain amok in the house of cards.
1st – The Ancient Game
In the wreaths of the dawn on a wild young planet, stones are chinked
beside the campfire’s roasting boar. There’s time before carving, since
drinking leaves hands free for minutes on end. Later, even wars will be
delayed, funerals brought forward. Funerary games are the fiercest of all.
2nd – The Romantic Game
The parsonage constrains, but if the wind off the tops is allowed its
truancy, let fancy follow suit. For their brother’s toy soldiers the girls
make up stories, educating his African confederacy, bringing sentiments
to settlers. ‘Alone I sat the summer’s day.’ ‘I’ll come when thou art saddest.’
3rd – The Solitary Game
The singleton tends to win against time but to lose against destiny. His
blinkers are set to matches and sequences, numbers without arithmetic,
courts without histories. Ignoring bargains and beckonings, he wins
repeatedly, the triumph of closure, humourless in the cave of his animation.
4th – The Therapeutic Game
Domino skills are resilient. Bright as a pip, he shuffles the boneyard of
loose tiles on the table. It’s carnival – tea isn’t served but it’s lively. This
dominus is no French priest with a black-and-white hood – only an ancient
mariner, kindly, slightly trained, and lucky to have all his marbles.
5th – The Diplomatic Game
Wives defer to a men’s game that starts after lunch and stretches into the
slow decline of empire, the longest shadows. Intelligence is poisoned;
there’s whispering by the Moorish steps. Assassins bounce off the laurels.
Betrayals rustle. Husbands bandage hurt feelings under cover of night.
6th – The Numbers Game
The cavernous Essoldo is echoing with numbers. Rags of threadbare
language polish the engine of luck (since the thing is so noisy and slow).
Donate your prize to charity – a set of personalised charms to clip on
wine-glass stems. The national game foreshadows the worldwide web.
All six – The Operatic Game
Every melodrama has its sideshow. The duke keeps a chess set in his box,
so close to the stage he can kiss the prima donna. The prodigy has never,
until now, seen Verdi’s Macbeth. He follows the opera while routing his
competent opponents, the duke and the count, with a queen sacrifice.
♦
Introduction to Six-Way Mirror | The Index of Hexagrams and Cantos
