Story notes
The classic image of playing a chess game with Death personified is actually older than recorded history (though, obviously, the game being played isn’t always chess), but most of us think of it in terms of the iconic game between Death and the knight Block in The Seventh Seal.
The thing that’s always bothered me about that game, though, is that it seems to me that Block was never under any requirement to actually play. I’d have to watch it again—it’s been a long, long time—but as I recall, the rules were that Death couldn’t take Block as long as the game was underway… but there was no time limit on how long Block could spend “considering a move”, and I don’t recall any rule stating that Block had to make a move in a finite amount of time. In theory, he could have simply decided not to make his move at any time—without actually quitting the game—and lived functionally forever. It reminded me of the famous line from WarGames: The only winning move is not to play
.
But… is there really anything worse than a game not played? Even at the cost of death—even at the cost of oblivion—isn’t not playing the game worse than even those consequences? I mean, the only reason death is a tragedy is because we live, right? If we never really live our lives, losing them wouldn’t be that big a deal.
You can either think of the game as a metaphor for life, or just take it literally in the case of someone who lives to play the game—whose entire life is about seeking out the greatest challenges and pitting themselves against the greatest players. For that person, even a loss is worth far more to them than not playing a game—especially when it’s against a worthy opponent.
How far could that go, and still be true, I wonder.