Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua

"There are all these new books out there portraying Asian mothers as scheming, callous, overdriven people indifferent to their kids’ true interests,” Amy Chua quotes. She should know, because hers is the biggest: “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother,” a well-packaged, readable book about the art of obsessive parenting. In truth, Mrs. Chua’s memoir is about one little narcissist’s book-length search for happiness.

You might wonder how this is possible. What kind of mother throws her 3-year-old daughter (Lulu) out in the snow? ("You can't stay in the house if you don't listen to Mommy.") Or complains that her family's pets aren't smart enough? ("They were unintelligent and not at all what they claimed to be.") Or, most memorably, makes her daughters' music lessons so tiring and intense that one daughter (Sophia) even leaves tooth marks on the piano?

Ms. Chua claims that this is the essence of tough Chinese parenting, as opposed to the lax Western kind. What does she mean by Chinese and Western? She is of Chinese descent, but she grew up in the American Midwest. She became a law professor and teaches at Yale. She and her husband, another Yale law professor, hired a Chinese nanny to speak Mandarin, though she doesn't speak it herself. Mrs. Chua grew up as a Roman Catholic, but her daughters were raised as Jews.

So she admits to using the term “Chinese mother” loosely—so loosely that even a "supersuccessful white guy from South Dakota (you’ve seen him on television)” told her his working-class father was a Chinese mom. And what she uses “Chinese mother” to mean is this: driven and hell-bent on raising certifiably Grade-A children. Ms. Chua was not about to raise slackers; she wanted prodigies, even if it meant nonstop, punishing labor. “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” chronicles Mrs. Chua's demanding, scolding and screaming. It describes endless piano and violin sessions that she supervised, while her own schedule of teaching, writing and dealing with students goes mostly unmentioned. And it enforces a guiding principle more reasonable than all her yelling suggests: “What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you’re good at it.”

Personally, being the daughter of a somewhat-demanding "Chinese mother", I would have to disagree with Amy Chua's views on parenting. Sure, she raised some darn successful children, like Sophia, who was invited to Carnegie Hall at age 14 to play the piano, but there's just something so wrong about the way that her parenting methods are stuck in the ground. Mrs. Chua may have gotten very lucky with her first daughter, Sophia, a goody-two-shoes (:D), and obviously very talented and hard-working, however, her second daughter, Louisa (Lulu) was very different. Amy acknowledges from the start that Lulu is the "rebellious" daughter, and her parenting only drives Lulu into a deeper corner, where she feels that the only thing she can do is rebel. (I like to think that I have some first-hand experience with this.)

Not to mention, I know many parents that are not "Chinese parents" by Mrs. Chua's standards, yet their kids seem to be just as successful, if not more. I know one child who was allowed to attend play-dates, keep up an instrument like guitar or drums, and still play at Carnegie Hall at age 15. And I know other children, who's piano practicing was never forced onto them, and they can still learn to enjoy music without having to worry about any rabid-eyed parents hovering over their backs whenever they are practicing.

But I'm not here to criticize. Amy Chua is definitely a very successful person, I can't argue with that. And her two children and husband are also very prestigious. But there's something that bothers me about the way that she represents the cut-out, steel-willed parenting as something completely "Chinese" and completely positive. No doubt, ever since my mother read Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, I've been suffering a bit more of the yelling and the "WHY CAN'T YOU BE LIKE _______", and that might be what is affecting my "objective" review of this book. (Not to mention, I began reading this book just to get a taste of the "crazy woman" that managed to convert my mother into another "crazy woman" :D).

All in all, the book was very humorously written, and very readable. I would recommend this book, and I would also recommend keeping in mind that not all "Western parents", as Amy Chua defines, are unsuccessful. In fact, if there's anything that I must disagree with this book over, it would be the way that Mrs. Chua groups everything into black-and-white, and her definition of "success". But go ahead and check out this book, it seems to have been super duper popular recently (my library bought 8 copies). Mrs. Chua's self-awareness—she knows she's not Mother-of-the-Year material—is much of what makes this book readable. Oh, and also the way she talks about her dogs is awesome:

“My dogs can’t do anything—and what a relief. I don’t make any demands of them, and I don’t try to shape them or their future. For the most part, I trust them to make the right choices for themselves. I always look forward to seeing them, and I love just watching them sleep. What a great relationship.”

(Not to mention tigers are beast.)

But then again, I might not be the most objective reviewer of this particular book.

So it goes, Revusters!