This is one outrageous book, partly thanks to Amy Chua’s writing style — Chua is pugnacious and blunt, with an unerring nose for the absurd — but partly thanks to her parenting style: “I’m going to count to three, then I want musicality!’’ she tells her piano-playing daughter. And: “If the next time’s not PERFECT, I’m going to TAKE ALL YOUR STUFFED ANIMALS AND BURN THEM!’’ Welcome to the world of the Asian Music Mama. If this book were a video, it would go viral.
Tao of tough love
Riveting tale of mother’s drive to raise high-achieving children by embracing harsh ‘Chinese way’ proves a bit thin in the end
Chua is a second-generation Chinese-American, Yale Law School professor trying to raise her children “the Chinese way.’’ In this effort, she is blessed with a saintly Jewish-American husband and two spectacularly talented children, on whose behalf Chua lays down, for starters, the many things they are not allowed to do: “Attend a sleepover, have a playdate, be in a school play, complain about not being in a school play, watch TV or play computer games, choose their own extracurricular activities, get any grade less than an A, not be the #1 student in every subject except gym and drama, play any instrument other than the piano or violin, and not play the piano or violin.’’
The girls play the piano and violin.
“What Chinese parents understand,’’ Chua goes on to say, “is that nothing is fun until you’re good at it. To get good at anything you have to work, and children on their own never want to work, which is why it is crucial to override their preferences. This often requires fortitude on the part of the parents because the child will resist; things are always hardest at the beginning, which is where Western parents tend to give up. But if done properly, the Chinese strategy produces a virtuous circle. Tenacious practice, practice, practice is crucial for excellence . . . Once a child starts to excel at something — whether it’s piano or math — he or she gets praise, admiration, and satisfaction . . . This in turn makes it easier for the parent to get the child to work even more.’’
By way of illustration, Chua gives samples of the measure-by-measure practice notes she routinely made for her daughters: “m. 180: Practice entrance. Direction! Start w/ slower bow, then get faster, most on high B! m. 181-83: drill clear articulation — quick, light fingers! m. 185: 1/2 the bow speed on chords — lighter!’’ Never mind that at one point Chua’s husband finds teeth marks on the piano; still, Chua pulls the girls out of school to get extra practice time in, packs their weekends with classes, and drives fantastic distances to work with special teachers. How she manages to hold down a job while doing all this is a mystery. And is she a true mother or a true monster? This is harder to say than one might think.
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