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Assistant Editor's Note
BOOK FORUM Laura M. Prager, M.D. Assistant Editor
Assistant Editor’s Note admit it—Amy Chua’s book about why Chinese mothers are superior to other types of mothers was just too provocative and controversial to ignore. So, this month there are two reviews of her guide to childrearing, one by a Chinese daughter and one by a non-Chinese mother. To round out the picture, I have included a review of a text on child development—a book Ms. Chua could have used to her advantage should she have been able to recognize the gaps in her knowledge base.
I
Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. By Amy Chua. New York: The Penguin Press; 2011; 236 pp, $25.94 (hardcover).
E
ven before its official debut, Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother sparked heated debate among multiple parties who seem to be sparring over issues that go beyond good versus bad parenting. To be fair, the widely read Wall Street Journal excerpt of Chua’s book, which is responsible for the initial wave of impassioned responses even before the book hit the stands, offers a biased view of the book. The excerpt strings together some of the most controversial passages under a sensationalist title, “Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior.” The excerpt is packaged to maximize intrigue and controversy, thus helping to bolster the book to its bestseller status. The book, in the end, does exhibit more balance and humility as Chua takes us through her eventual transformation as a mother and her coming to terms with the limitations of her parenting style when her younger daughter rebels against her in public by yelling,
smashing glass, etc. In response, the tiger mom retreats and allows her daughter to pursue her love of tennis and scale back on the violin. Nevertheless, balance and humility do not stand out as prominent themes of this book. Her writing is blunt, brisk, and, for the most part, deliberately provocative. Her over-the-top statements at times come across as humorous self-mockery but at other times less so. In the end, the reader is left entertained and horrified with what seems to be narrow-minded self-righteousness. As a Chinese daughter who spent the first 12 years of her life in China, whose sometimes strict, sometimes lenient, but always very human Chinese parents continue to exert their influence well into her adulthood, I am quite familiar with some of the culturally rooted beliefs about parent– child relationships. I, like many of my peers, learned to observe filial piety from a young age—“Chinese parents believe that their kids owe them everything” (p. 53). I have also developed a tolerance for the pervasive glorification of suffering. An old Chinese adage goes, “As one eats the bitterest of bitter, he becomes the best of men.” So it is no shock to me that Chua expounds on the virtue of rote practice and insists that “nothing is fun until you are good at it” (p. 29). As with most things in life, these traditional beliefs come with their pros and cons when translated into daily practice. The problem is that Chua and many of her enraged readers seem to gravitate toward the extreme and forget that the truth lies somewhere in between. The real problematic parts of the book, however, come when Chua elaborates, in colorful detail, her ruthlessness as a mother in action and in words. Frustrated that her daughter could not master the Little White Donkey, she forces the 7-year-old to push through hours and hours of practice, accusing her of being lazy and cowardly and threatening to burn her stuffed animals and allowing not so much as a bathroom break until she gets it right. A strict, disciplinarian approach to parenting does take root in traditional Confucian teachings. However, shaming, name-calling, and taunting certainly do not represent the social norm and are not condoned by Chinese society as
JOURNAL 726
www.jaacap.org
OF THE
AMERICAN ACADEMY OF CHILD & ADOLESCENT PSYCHIATRY VOLUME 50 NUMBER 7 JULY 2011
Assistant Editor’s Note admit it—Amy Chua’s book about why Chinese mothers are superior to other types of mothers was just too provocative and controversial to ignore. So, this month there are two reviews of her guide to childrearing, one by a Chinese daughter and one by a non-Chinese mother. To round out the picture, I have included a review of a text on child development—a book Ms. Chua could have used to her advantage should she have been able to recognize the gaps in her knowledge base.
I
Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. By Amy Chua. New York: The Penguin Press; 2011; 236 pp, $25.94 (hardcover).
E
ven before its official debut, Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother sparked heated debate among multiple parties who seem to be sparring over issues that go beyond good versus bad parenting. To be fair, the widely read Wall Street Journal excerpt of Chua’s book, which is responsible for the initial wave of impassioned responses even before the book hit the stands, offers a biased view of the book. The excerpt strings together some of the most controversial passages under a sensationalist title, “Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior.” The excerpt is packaged to maximize intrigue and controversy, thus helping to bolster the book to its bestseller status. The book, in the end, does exhibit more balance and humility as Chua takes us through her eventual transformation as a mother and her coming to terms with the limitations of her parenting style when her younger daughter rebels against her in public by yelling,
smashing glass, etc. In response, the tiger mom retreats and allows her daughter to pursue her love of tennis and scale back on the violin. Nevertheless, balance and humility do not stand out as prominent themes of this book. Her writing is blunt, brisk, and, for the most part, deliberately provocative. Her over-the-top statements at times come across as humorous self-mockery but at other times less so. In the end, the reader is left entertained and horrified with what seems to be narrow-minded self-righteousness. As a Chinese daughter who spent the first 12 years of her life in China, whose sometimes strict, sometimes lenient, but always very human Chinese parents continue to exert their influence well into her adulthood, I am quite familiar with some of the culturally rooted beliefs about parent– child relationships. I, like many of my peers, learned to observe filial piety from a young age—“Chinese parents believe that their kids owe them everything” (p. 53). I have also developed a tolerance for the pervasive glorification of suffering. An old Chinese adage goes, “As one eats the bitterest of bitter, he becomes the best of men.” So it is no shock to me that Chua expounds on the virtue of rote practice and insists that “nothing is fun until you are good at it” (p. 29). As with most things in life, these traditional beliefs come with their pros and cons when translated into daily practice. The problem is that Chua and many of her enraged readers seem to gravitate toward the extreme and forget that the truth lies somewhere in between. The real problematic parts of the book, however, come when Chua elaborates, in colorful detail, her ruthlessness as a mother in action and in words. Frustrated that her daughter could not master the Little White Donkey, she forces the 7-year-old to push through hours and hours of practice, accusing her of being lazy and cowardly and threatening to burn her stuffed animals and allowing not so much as a bathroom break until she gets it right. A strict, disciplinarian approach to parenting does take root in traditional Confucian teachings. However, shaming, name-calling, and taunting certainly do not represent the social norm and are not condoned by Chinese society as
JOURNAL 726
www.jaacap.org
OF THE
AMERICAN ACADEMY OF CHILD & ADOLESCENT PSYCHIATRY VOLUME 50 NUMBER 7 JULY 2011