Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother [Paperback]

I remember once attending a school coffee morning and complaining afterwards to a friend of mine, who is from Hong Kong, how competitive some parents are. To say she was aghast is understating the case - "No," she exclaimed, "Hong Kong is much harder to bring your child up - very, very competitive!" After reading this book, I perhaps understand what she meant. Amy Chua brought her two daughters up, in the US, but on the Chinese parenting model. This book does explain why, and how, there are so many academically brilliant Chinese students; not to mention so many gifted musicians, chess champions, etc. However, it also explains the cost of putting this intense programme into action - no playdates, sleepovers, and an over scheduling which sounded exhausting for her, let alone a child.

Amy Chua obviously has a great belief in her parenting methods and she is, at times, quite shockingly aggressive about 'Western' methods. However, she herself admits that she prefers to learn things by rote and found a career in Law uncomfortable by her unwillingness to 'question', which perhaps meant the model worked for her and so she approved of it whole heartedly for her own children. This, however, I believe is the true shortcoming in her approach - yes, children do need to learn some things by rote, but to be real learners for life, you need to inspire and create a love of learning and a willingness to try things without fear of failure. All you can do, ultimately, for children is to open doors - let them experience different activities and choose which of those they enjoy. To battle with your children over music practice day after day must surely be draining for everyone in the house and, you do wonder at the cost of success. To go on holiday and spend hours searching for a piano at every location just introduces stress into what should be an enjoyable time and, although you can applaud the effort, you wonder how much is for the sake of the child and how much for the parental ambition. Quite a lot I felt was for the mother and not the children. Interestingly, Amy's husband was not Chinese, but an American academic and well known author. Although he disagreed with many of Amy's methods, she did most of the parenting (like the majority of mothers) and so, ultimately, it was her ideas which were implemented. The cost seems to have been a high one in family financial cost, time and stress, with her children becoming her 'projects'.

Although I disagreed with much of what she said, I did find myself agreeing with some of her ideas; although perhaps in a less aggressive way. As a book I found it fascinating. You have to look past the desire to shock and be confrontational and read the message. Although I could never parent like she does, nor would I wish to, in one sense she is right - children are capable of so much more than we give them credit for. Parental input is certainly important for our children to succeed, but the task is to get the balance right and include our children in the process. It is, after all, their life. However, as a book - jaw dropping as it is, it does make fascinating reading.

There can't be many people who would agree with every word on child-rearing here. Nor will there be many who think nothing here makes sense. The book is compelling reading, good to think with, and fun to hurl away with great force. I know I did this. I also know I picked it up again. I wanted to know what happened next.

I can understand her frustration with liberal parenting, and with the dumbing down endemic in the Anglophone world. (I looked at the OCR GCSE English marking criteria today; these contain two uses of a plural verb with a singular noun.) Chua implies - rightly - that these declining standards are less likely to be disadvantageous to the children of the Goldman Sachs bankers than to the children of struggling immigrants.

And yet most readers of this book will also have found themselves gasping in horror at some point: I know I did. For me, Chua's educational methods are more bearable than her character-training efforts. I agree with her that nothing is fun until you do it properly, and there is evidence that constant praise and no challenges does not make for happiness. It is also plain that few children will do enough music practice - or enough grammar or times tables - unless pressured, though conversely we could consider the long-term cost of installing perfectionism and restless dissatisfaction in every child. WE as readers could consider such things; Chua doesn't.

But the extent to which - in Chua's eyes - birthday cards and funeral eulogies also become tasks to be done 'properly' by children is chilling. Conditional love is one thing, but nobody can be perfect in every respect. Is Chua quite perfect enough herself to set standards like this for the entire world? Is it quite enough to be a soloist, or a law professor, or a novelist? Is anybody quite perfect enough? Can anything ever give back to Chua or her children the sound sweet sleep provided by knowing that ordinary is sometimes enough, that the family is a haven in a heartless world? I wonder - no, I worry - about what will happen to Chua's daughters Sophia and Lulu if they don't get into an Ivy League school, if they don't maintain a perfect GPA when they get there. Chua may forgive them, but will they be able to forgive themselves? What if they don't make it as soloists, or athletes? Parents have to arm children against failure as well as prepping them for success; by Chua's standards, most people are failures.

I pin my hopes to the dogs; one of the most engaging strands of the book is dedicated to them. Chua knows they have been a comfort because they are untrained, but still beautiful. Perhaps Sophia and Lulu will learn this lesson too.

Chua is a fine writer and she makes you argue with her, fight her, and also sympathise with her and with her daughters as she clashes with both of them. I think 'thought-provoking' is definitely the mot juste for this book. Read it and weep, yes, but smile too, and hope.

One minus; it isn't very long, and most of the striking stories have been well aired in the press.

I finished reading Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother in just over an hour. It was a very entertaining read and I do feel that Amy has been gravely misunderstood, from some of the reviews of this book (not on Amazon but other publications). First and foremost, as a woman of South East Asian chinese descent I will say that it takes a lot of guts for Amy to write about her rise and fall in her super quest for her children to be nothing but the best. She also comes across in her book as someone who is completely self aware of the situation- making a parody of herself if you will- and finally realising that her discipline heavy approach did not quite cut the mustard with Lulu. Unorthodox and cruel as certain quarters may feel her methods are, I think one message is clear- she never told her daughters that "you can never do this, you are not good enough". Her berating and temper only flares up when they were not trying hard enough.

There is nothing worse than raising a child to be an adult with low self esteem and self doubt. Too often, parents give up easily when their children throw tantrums and then these children later on grow up wishing they had put more effort into what they had been doing ("should have practised more piano, should have done this, should have tried harder etc"). The mental and physical challenges required of any individual working on something full time, be it sports, music, arts, etc, resembles a marathon, your legs are killing you but you want to get to the finishing line because you have come this far and there really is no turning back.

As with any other book I think a balanced approach must be adopted. Amy learnt her lesson through her experience with Lulu, and parents who are letting their children down by indulging in their every vice, or indeed, not helping them realise their full potential could perhaps take a couple of pointers from this book.

Overall a great read. Every single emotion in the book is very very real. Thank you Amy for sharing your world with the rest of us.