Fencing is a game of living chess, a match where reflexes only

The words of V. E. Schwab, “Fencing is a game of living chess, a match where reflexes only work in combination with intent, and mind and body must work together at every moment,” reveal the eternal union of strategy and instinct. In them shines the truth that victory is never the child of speed alone, nor of cunning by itself, but of harmony between thought and action. To step into the duel is to step into a sacred dance, where each movement is both planned and spontaneous, both calculated and alive.

At the heart of this saying lies the image of fencing as living chess. Just as the master of chess sees not only the move at hand but the future unfolding beyond it, so too must the fencer foresee the strike, the counter, the rhythm of the blade. Yet foresight alone is nothing without the sharpness of reflexes, the swift body that answers in the instant. Thus, Schwab reminds us that true mastery arises when foresight and speed serve one another.

The origin of these words flows from Schwab’s own insight as both storyteller and practitioner of thought. By likening the duel to chess, she places it among the great arts of the mind; by insisting on the unity of mind and body, she shows that the contest is not mere sport, but a metaphor for the struggles of life itself. For in all battles—whether with blade or with fate—neither the body alone nor the spirit alone can prevail; both must act as one.

Let this wisdom endure: in the duel of existence, as in fencing, victory belongs to those who wed intent to action, who bind mind to body without division. The hand that strikes without thought is reckless; the thought that plans without motion is powerless. But when the two flow together, every step, every breath, every strike becomes destiny itself. Thus Schwab’s words are not merely about blades, but about life—teaching us that harmony within ourselves is the greatest weapon of all.