An Irishman's Diary

AS any musically illiterate parent of music students will know, YouTube can be a vital educational resource. What happens is that your child comes home with a new piece, which as scratched on a violin or cello does not bear even passing resemblance to a tune. So, wishing to offer advice but having no idea what the melody should sound like, you look it up on YouTube. And there, invariably, will be videos of children elsewhere in the world, posted by their proud parents, playing the same thing.

This can be extremely helpful, but it can also be depressing. The children featured are usually Chinese, or sometimes Japanese, or Korean. They are also typically two or three years younger than your child. As a result, the educational value of hearing them play a tune well is all-but offset by the annoying fact that, despite their tender years, these little virtuosos have already left yours behind.

Now, thanks to a woman called Amy Chua, at least I know how it happens. An American of Chinese parentage, Chua is a writer, a law professor, a mother of two, and a very scary woman. Her teenage daughters are both musical prodigies, thanks to her guidance. And in her latest book, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, she explains what that guidance involves.

The book purports to describe the child-rearing techniques of the typical Chinese matriarch, who, if the author is not exaggerating, presides not so much over a family home as a boot-camp. I suspect Chua is very much in the front rank of the Tiger Mother movement, and not at all typical, even among the Chinese. But for a flavour of her approach, here are some of the things her daughters are not allowed do:

1. Attend a sleepover. 2. Have a play-date. 2. Be in a school play. 3. Complain about not being in a school play. 4. Watch TV or play computer games. 5. Get any grade less than an A. 6. Not be the No 1 student in everything except gym and drama. 7. Play any instrument other than the piano or violin. 8. Not play the piano or violin.

An excerpt from the book appeared in the Wall Street Journalrecently, under the headline "Why Chinese mothers are superior." Since when, unsurprisingly, all hell has broken loose in the paper's comments section. One of the many criticisms levelled against her is racism: even though in the same piece she says that the term "Chinese mother" is used loosely and that the phenomenon is not exclusive to China, or to mothers.

Fathers can qualify too, Chua insists. And she claims to know "Korean, Indian, Jamaican, Irish and Ghanaian parents" who equally fit the bill. This sounds like an acronym – KIJIG parents – waiting to be born, although the examples are clearly drawn at random from her circle of acquaintances and that selection is not exclusive either. Among the 5,395 comments on the WSJwebsite, I'm sure, there must be a few from Jewish mothers demanding to know why they weren't included.

Rules about what her children are not allowed to do aside, Chua is also a strong believer in criticism. Not gentle, constructive criticism, of the kind that emphasises how everybody is special, but in different ways. She hates that namby-pamby Western crap. No, the Chinese mother’s criticism is more robust. “Hey fatty – lose some weight”, she will say. Or: “You’re lazy. All your classmates are getting ahead of you.” Chua illustrates the success of her ideas with a story about one of her children that will strike you either as heart-warming – if you’re a Chinese/KIJIG parent – or, if you’re not, as a potential lawsuit under the UN Convention Against Torture.

Her daughter Lulu, then aged 7, was struggling with a piano piece (Jacques Ibert's The Little White Donkey), in which right and left hands have to play completely contrasting rhythms. It was, Chua concedes, very difficult. And after a week of failure, the child gave up in exasperation. Or rather, she tried to give up.

This is, of course, not an option in a household run by a Chinese/KIJIG mother. Instead, Lulu was ordered back to the piano. There were resulting tantrums, during which the score was shredded. So in retaliation, Chua took the child’s doll’s house out to the car and claimed she would donate it to the Salvation Army if the piece was not played perfectly by the following day. She also threatened to deprive Lulu of lunch and dinner. Oh, and she warned that there would no Christmas presents or birthday parties for up to four years.

Even her husband, who sounds like a namby-pamby westerner, thought she was overdoing it. But, surprise, surprise, Chinese Mother triumphed in the end. At the umpteenth attempt, suddenly, Lulu played the piece straight through. Then she did it again, faster and more fluently. And soon she was beaming: “Mommy, look – it’s easy.” After which they had a big cuddle.

All this could make the rest of us feel inadequate. In fact, sometimes when I see those Chinese kids playing so proficiently on YouTube, I try to console myself by studying them for signs of stress, or shackles, or whatever.

And it would be comforting to think that Chua’s children – one of whom made her Carnegie Hall debut at 14 – are at least lacking in personality. The evidence is not encouraging, however. It’s bad enough that her daughters look healthy and beautiful, but they also seem to be well-adjusted. Enough, at any rate, to joke that their mother is insane. Which, by the way, is a recurring theme in the WSJ comments section.

• fmcnally@irishtimes.com