Only Adam Bertocci could tell a story about a small high school chess club rivalry and turn it into a grand drama about life, art, the nature of genius, and the meaning of greatness.

Parker Sabatini is an accomplished chess player in her school’s casual chess club. One day, Ali Wolfhart, on leave from the cheerleading squad due to injury, stops by the club. At first, she seems like just a novelty. Until she starts winning. And winning. And winning. To the point that Parker begins to become obsessed with Ali’s uncanny gift for the game.

Like Salieri vs. Mozart in Amadeus, Parker struggles to comprehend why this divine fire of genius should have been bestowed upon a cheerleader, of all people. Her obsession turns to jealousy, culminating in a violent outburst at a chess tournament.

The book is told as a series of interviews with students and faculty at the school, narrating how the relationship between Ali and Parker evolved. Or, perhaps, devolved. (This style of narration foreshadows that used in Bertocci’s recent novel, The Sorcery of White Rats, which is also excellent.) In the course of these ruminations, the interviewees muse on all sorts of topics, ranging from educational philosophy to the meaning of life.

There’s been many a novel written that doesn’t tackle themes as heavy as these, but as always, Bertocci addresses these big questions with a light touch and economy of words. The book takes only about 30 minutes to read, and it leverages each word for maximum impact.

In the end, Ali’s genius remains enigmatic; as genius always must. Perhaps the best attitude to take towards genius is simply to be grateful that one is fortunate enough to have the opportunity of witnessing it. That’s certainly the attitude I take when I read one of Bertocci’s books.