Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother -- #22

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, Amy Chua
Rating: 3 stars

I have very conflicting feelings about this book. I tried to let it stew over night so I would be more prepared to write this review today, but it only helped marginally. Ah. Where to even begin?

Amy Chua is the eldest daughter of Chinese immigrant parents. She wrote this book as a way of trying to explain what it is to be what she calls 'a Chinese mother,' though she readily admits that there are mothers (and fathers) of all ethnicities that have the qualities she is labeling Chinese. It's just that Chinese mothers are way better at it. And possibly were the first to ever act like that. Or something. Just look at all the Chinese kids who are super musical prodigies and ridiculously smart at such young ages! See?!

OK, joking aside, I completely acknowledge that there are TONS of extremely gifted and talented and hardworking Chinese youth. I will also acknowledge that it is very obvious that these youth, wherever they are raised, have different childhoods than what I'd call a typical Western childhood. I imagine that Chua's depiction of Chinese motherhood is accurate and that Chinese mothers really are the driving force behind much of the successes enjoyed by these prodigies. (I hope that the majority of these children are at least mostly enjoying the ride, and I hope that they are able to look back on their childhood and feel good.)

None of that is what I have a problem with.

My problem lies in Chua's attitude throughout this book. She is alternately a martyr and a saint, whimpering about how her life is so hard because it has to be that way, because she must be a "Chinese mother" and so she doesn't get to just have fun with her daughters like Western mothers. She must endure them hating her so that they will have a better future. She must have shouting and screaming and death threat matches with her second daughter who refuses to practice the violin... for six hours straight. She must literally call her daughter 'garbage' for being disrespectful, because that is what her father did to her and look how she turned out. Right?

Further, she is completely and unabashedly ethnocentric. She pulls no punches with this-- she thinks the Western style of parenting is lousy and creates lazy and ignorant adults. I think it's fine and well and good to think that the way you were raised is awesome, but when you let that bleed over into thinking that other parents are bad parents because they have play dates? Um, it's time to reevaluate. How about recognizing that different is not always worse? Sometimes it's just different.

Third. She claims repeatedly that she does everything she does for her daughters-- not a bit of it for herself. But I just don't buy it. Two examples stand out to me. The first is when her second daughter is slowly starting to rebel against the craziness of her Chinese mother. Lulu happens to play the violin, an instrument Amy selected herself and forced upon Lulu at a very young age, and one that Lulu happens to excel at. But by the time Lulu is 12 and 13, she is really starting to strain against her mom's method of parenting. She wants to be able to make her own decisions some of the time. And it is also at this time that Amy decides, of course, the next thing to do is force Lulu to audition for Juilliard's pre-college program-- a super exclusive and hard-to-get-into program for young musicians. Lulu isn't planning to become a professional violinist. She isn't planning to go to Juilliard. She is having a hard time even maintaining the drive to continue in her youth orchestra. Amy doesn't want any of those things for her either, but Amy presses onward, even though Lulu's private music tutors don't think she is ready. When people ask Amy why she is doing this, why she even wants Lulu to audition for the program, Amy has no answer. She doesn't know why she is forcing this upon her daughter. Huh?

The next scenario happened roughly around the same time, when the family took a vacation to Russia. There they are, the first afternoon, sitting in a cafe in Red Square. When Amy and her husband Jed decide to order caviar, Lulu says she doesn't want any. She's 13. That seems like a reasonable response, right? But Amy flips. She orders Lulu to eat it. She threatens Lulu. She tells her she is a horrible daughter. FOR NOT EATING ANY CAVIAR. Amy pushes Lulu so hard that Lulu breaks. She yells and throws glasses. She has had it. And then Amy gets up and runs away. Runs away, across Red Square. Because she was unable to force her daughter to eat a piece of caviar, and so she has failed at motherhood.

By this time, I am convinced that Amy is convinced that being able to control your children is what it means to be a good parent. And so she is continuously making decisions for her girls and just expecting them to do whatever she wants. Even eat some random caviar in the middle of Russia. That has nothing to do with her daughter's futures or how talented they are, yet Amy cannot handle them saying no to her. There is story after story where Amy just decides what Lulu is going to do, so many small things that wouldn't affect anything if she just let Lulu have her way, but she can't back down.

The good news is that by the end of the book, Amy has figured out that the Chinese mother method of parenting is not a good fit for Lulu. Her older daughter, Sophia, has no problem with it. She has always done as Amy asked and she has the honors to show for it. She has the personality for it. Lulu does not. And so Amy is finally able to transition into a slightly different style of mothering for Lulu. She even lets Lulu cut down on her violin studies so that she can pursue tennis, something she has chosen for herself. It is a pretty satisfying transition to watch (read), even if the journey is harrowing.

My main question after finishing this book is, what are Chinese mothers in China like? I know not all of them can be like Chua describes here. Is this mainly a Chinese-American way of mothering? It kind of seems that way. Is it because they feel like they have something to prove? At points in the book it seemed like Chua was leaning towards that idea, but she never comes out with it. So I don't know.

I thought the book was fascinating, even if it was infuriating at times. I think my jaw dropped more than a few times, reading about how Chua regularly treats her daughters. I have to give her credit for laying her life bare like she did. That can't have been too easy. She knew she would come under intense criticism when this book hit the shelves. The Western way of parenting is just so radically different-- honestly, I think a lot of Western parents (and children) would label abusive much of what Chua labels good parenting. Me? Well, I don't think Western parenting is perfect by any means. I certainly don't think Chua's method of parenting, whether you call it Chinese or not, is perfect by a long shot. As usual, the truth/ideal is somewhere in the middle.

I agree with Chua that most children don't/won't want to do something unless they are good at it, and they will not get good at it unless they work at it, and they don't/won't want to work unless they are good at it. It's a downward spiral. So, if you really want your child to excel at something, at least at the beginning you are going to have to be the driving force behind their practicing. I see the logic in that.

I don't, however, see the truth in the belief that if your child is not playing at Carnegie Hall by the age of 14, she hasn't succeeded. Or that if your child ever gets an A- she has dishonored her family. I'm just not going down that road. And I think Vivian is going to turn out fine. Play dates and all.

3 stars-- I liked it. Read it someday.