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Title
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Speed in Foil
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Date
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May 1940
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volume
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5
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issue
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3
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8
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10
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en
Speed in Foil
To the average layman, fencing is almost synonymous with speed. He looks upon the sport as one of the fastest and probably believes that the faster you fence the more successful you will be. Fortunately for the sport itself he is partially incorrect in his assumption. Were speed the prime requisite of fencing, the most successful fencers would be those under 27 years of age, which is the age at which physical speed begins to decline. However, fencers go on for many more years. The very fact that the best fencers seldom reach their peaks until they have passed 30 and may remain very good for another 20 years would seem to prove that speed is not the primary requirement of the good swordsman.
We have no intention of disparaging the value of speed. It is a most valuable asset. It has brought success to many fencers who otherwise would have been duds. It is certainly something which has turned many a bout into victory for the fencer with its extra spark. It is so important that a good fencer will at first size up his opponent's tempo in order to know immediately whether he is dealing with a fast or slow opponent. After that, he will deal with him accordingly, but the important thing is that speed is one of the first and most important factors to analyze in any opponent.
Before we get very far into this essay, let us first determine what we mean by speed and of what fencing speed consists. Actually, speed in any physical movement implies perfect coordination, the synchronization of all the muscles and bones that are to be used in the action. Coordination of movement is, in the simplest of terms, merely the smoothness of movement. Coordinated movement executed in the minimum of time gives us perfect speed. This contrasts with fast uncoordinated movement which consumes as much if not more energy but results in jerky action without directed speed.
As we practice any movement over and over, our muscles learn the requirements of the action or succession of actions. Repeated practice results through muscle-learning in eventual coordination. That is why we practice simple fencing actions over and over again, to acquire or maintain coordination and its resulting speed.
Fencing is not continuous movement. It is not comparable to running or to figure skating. It consists of many stops and starts. For that reason, we must add another element to our definition of speed as it applies specifically to fencing. We must add nerve speed or nervous explosiveness. We must be able to be absolutely stationary one moment and in full action the next. Upon the fractional time element required to jump into action depends much of the fencer's "speed." This is a speed that comes naturally to youth. Yet here again the older fencer holds his own through experience, for the "when" in fencing is most important.
Perhaps everything we have said thus far is too elementary for our readers. However, we feel that this review is important for a mutual understanding of such a common term as "speed." Once more, speed is the ability to start instantaneously and to execute any subsequent complex movements smoothly within a minimum time period.
We have two important foil schools: the French and the Italian. Although always interesting subjects for discussion in themselves, we have neither the time nor place for such here. We must assume that our readers are sufficiently familiar with both schools to follow our application of speed to each school respectively. We recognize that both schools use deception and pressures, and that the exponents of each school borrow liberally from the principles of the other. For our purpose, however, we refer primarily to deception when we allude to the French school and to pressures and beats when we allude to the Italian school.
For a pure French foilsman to have "speed" and for a pure Italian foilsman to have "speed" does not imply the same thing. The French foilsman's speed must be in gear with his opponent. His major intent is to draw the parry of his opponent in order through deception to create an opening for his point. Let us say, for example, that he desires to feint or disengage to draw a simple parry and, being successful, disengages and lunges. That is nothing more than a one-two attack. What about the speed? It certainly must have been geared to that of the opponent's reaction, or the entire attack would have been futile. If the one-two is made too fast, the opponent will not have reacted with the parry and the attack will have landed back into the unopened line. If the one-two is made too slowly, the opponent's simple parry will have caught the blade and put an end to the attack. A similar explanation can be made of any deception attack and why it will fail if made more slowly or more rapidly than the opponent's reaction time. It is this problem of judging individual reaction speeds that makes deceptive fencing a difficult art.
Now let us take the other type of compound attack, the pressure attack, which we broadly allude to as an Italian attack. In this attack, through pressure or beats or both, you force the opponent into a desired action, reaction, or even a state of rigidity and inaction. Let us take for example the coulé-disengage or pressure-disengage. This particular type of pressure is done by extending your foil in the closed line of your opponent. His blade is pressed and held as you extend. Your point threatens the opponent's target. If he opens his line, he is hit directly. If he doesn’t open his line, you disengage with the lunge and make a touch. His natural reaction is to resist to prevent a direct hit, and that resistance, when you finally disengage, throws him more widely open than before. Now what about speed in this case? Since you have control of his blade throughout the action, you certainly need not gear your speed to his. It is "all out;" the faster, the better.
To summarize: In deceptive fencing, perfect offensive speed is equal and only equal to the defensive speed of the opponent. In pressure fencing, the perfect speed is top speed.
Both schools employ simple direct attacks or what was described as straight lunges in our December article. Any straight lunge must be executed at top speed. Here, you neither want nor should wait for any reaction from your opponent. You jump straight upon your opponent with all the speed at your command and only hope that it gets you there before he can parry you. This is true of any direct action, whether it be in the attack or following the defense. Any direct riposte or riposte with disengage must be made at top speed.
Now that we have dealt with geared speed and top speed at least sufficiently to make a distinction in their meanings, we shall leave that problem for your own experimentation. Please do not think, however, that it is a small problem. It is not until you become fully conscious of these differentiations and learn to use them automatically as the occasion demands that you will become anything but a hit-or-miss fencer. Any fencer who loses to a naturally slower opponent or defeats a naturally faster opponent without stopping to analyze why will become a purely automatic fencer, an automaton who gains no value from experience.
Once you have acquired the ability to evaluate speed, you should experiment with its variations. To make every attack at the same speed may work against you. It enables the opponent to plan his parries perfectly and time them to the finish of your attack. Of course, if you are a whirlwind and can attack always with such blinding speed that no parry can catch up with your point, you would be foolish to change your tempo. Such fencers, however, are more the products of authors' imaginations than flesh-and-blood representatives of any existing fencing schools. Let any fencer sizzle in with a few fast attacks against an experienced fencer, and he generally finds that the repetition of those attacks is somehow warded off. For that reason, speed must be a variable thing. An innocent-looking drifting attack which follows a few fast all-out attacks will have more chance of landing than another fast attack. Your opponent has learned to expect speed from you and is set to start parrying at your first fast movement. Instead, you drift out with a slow, harmless-looking feint and continue drifting right into the target without surprising him into any parry whatsoever. The same variation should be practiced with feints. A first feint may be made fast and smooth to surprise an opponent, fast and with snap to startle an opponent, or slowly and with innocence to lull an opponent into a false state of security. All of these variations go into making what is called "change of pace," and when properly coordinated leave an opponent in a dither of confusion.
Once more let us stress the importance of speed in a riposte. Never permit a riposte to drift. It must be shot home with all the speed in your arm and heart. It can be the fastest action in foil fencing when properly executed. Here again, we must modify or rather clarify our statement. The tac-au-tac or hit-and-go parry-riposte must fly out with all the speed you have. Essentially, there are three types of parries. There is the pressure, or push parry; there is the parry in opposition; there is the beat parry, either simple or circular. The last parry, since it has beaten or snapped the opposing foil out of line, calls for immediate action in the return movement—an all-out riposte. The first two parries mentioned, the push parry and the parry in opposition, leave the foils in engagement. To release opens one to a remise. A riposte direct or with a disengage is called for, and once started must go like lightning. The only difference is that the push parry may be delayed in starting. These explanations all apply to direct or simple disengage ripostes. Again, we must consider the necessity for geared speed if any compound riposte is undertaken. A riposte with a one-two or with a double must draw the opponent's parry the same as a deceptive attack and must be no slower or faster than the parrying speed of the opponent.
We mentioned earlier that the more experienced fencer matched the superior speed of his younger opponent with a better knowledge of "when." This is, in essence, "timing" or, more aptly, "choice of time." This is not the place to enter into the ramifications of "choice of time." However, in any discussion of speed, it is important to point out that poorly timed speed can be a waste of effort and, similarly, that well-timed speed is almost irresistible.
Thus far, actually, we have pointed out little more than the fact that speed has not always a oneness, that gear shifting is more desirable than a constant driving in high. We wish now to lead up to a discussion of individual speed, your own speed, and how inefficient you usually are in its use. First of all, your own speed is an individual characteristic. Some fencers have more of it than others. Secondly, speed is a class characteristic, a thing of environment. Take any class of a dozen fencers and leave them isolated among themselves, and their speeds will all become identical somewhere between the top and bottom natural speeds of the group. The group is usually entirely oblivious to this phenomenon. Now let some faster fencer visit this group, and within a few sessions, you will see its speed increase—a reclamation of forgotten and unused sparkle.
No fencer uses his best natural speed all of the time. Few fencers use their best natural speed most of the time. Some fencers never use their best natural speed at all. In fact, the lazy animal that is man stands badly revealed when fencing. When called upon to make his fastest action, he tries invariably to get away with an action that is just fast enough, if luck is with him. Test this for yourself. Take any fencer for a practice session. Arrange to make him stand on guard in sixte, and upon your disengage and lunge, have him parry quarte and riposte direct. This is one of fencing's simplest defensive replies. After his riposte, remark that it was terribly slow, even though it might not have been. Repeat the action, and that riposte will come at you faster than before. "That is better but is still too slow." Zingo, now you know that you are being hit with something! And yet your opponent thought his first riposte was fast. You can do this with almost every action in his repertoire by the mere use of disparaging comment. You can do the same with yourself by self-criticism. Why in heaven's name have you not done so? There is nothing phoney in the statement that the hand is quicker than the eye. Perhaps it is just vanity that makes fencers hold their hands down to eye speed so they may watch themselves in motion.
These differences in speed I have just stressed are readily discernible, although actually not great in themselves. You should not be able to increase your speed 100% by such exercises. Can you realize, however, what a great difference in results you will obtain in your fencing if you only release 10% more speed from that locked-in reservoir of yours? Even a 5% increase in speed might double your effectiveness. You have had a key to many of your own failures within you and never taken the trouble to use it. Release your natural speed. Cease going around admitting that so-and-so is faster than you are. Like as not, the only difference is that he is using a greater percentage of his natural speed than you are.
This point cannot be overstressed. Every individual and group should experiment with it. Any professional will readily admit that although he may increase the speed of a slow group, the slow group will likewise slow him down. That is why conscientious professionals feel it necessary to take a lesson themselves from some other professional from time to time. They describe it as going stale and needing refreshing. Actually, the constant work with new fencers tends to slow them down. They sense the slowing down and feel the need of a workout themselves that will call back their best speeds. They have the cure within themselves at any time by releasing their mental grip upon their natural speeds but seek a cure by working out with another man whose own speed demands their matching it.
There are no great secrets in our sport. We all of us know most of the practical movements. There is little that we can give you in these essays that will open up new doors to super-swordsmanship. We all of us have these things within us already. It is our own laziness, inefficiency, ignoring of practice and training, and non-use of the simpler effective direct actions that hold us back. Uncork yourselves. Use the speed that you possess and that you have ignored thus far. You will be a more dangerous fencer in amazingly short order and surprise yourself as well as your opponent with the result.
D. E.
