Initially when I first read Chua’s article online I was bemused and unsurprised by the anger she generated, but then as I read on I grew appalled by Chua’s way of thinking in terms of Western and Chinese cultures. I thought to myself, here is yet another one of those entitled Asian mothers who brags about how awesome her children are—what music, science and academic prodigies they are! We’ve all encountered the kind at one ...]]> I couldn’t help but gravitate toward the recent controversy of Amy Chua and her “tiger mothering” methods. After all, like my other Chinese (or Asian, really) first/second generation counterparts, we’ve all been through similar childhoods, and we’ve all had a good self-deprecating chortle at all the “fobby” things our parents did and made us do. Ms Chua, however, is an entity unto herself. Extremely neurotic, obsessive, controlling—she is all those things, and then some. She herself admits in her book that she wouldn’t wish herself on any child. This book is by no means a how-to guide for parenting—it is a surprisingly entertaining (sometimes on a perverse level) memoir, fusing a celebration of parental success with a cautionary tale of the dangers of caring too much.

Initially when I first read Chua’s article online I was bemused and unsurprised by the anger she generated, but then as I read on I grew appalled by Chua’s way of thinking in terms of Western and Chinese cultures. I thought to myself, here is yet another one of those entitled Asian mothers who brags about how awesome her children are—what music, science and academic prodigies they are! We’ve all encountered the kind at one point or another. But after reading Chua’s memoir in full (the article is only a selected excerpt), I was surprised by how (relatively) reasonable she sounds. Her writing is eloquent and engaging and I found myself breezing through her story quickly. It made me wonder that most of the people who are in a furore over Chua are simply misinformed. That is not to say I approve of Chua’s methods—they are severe and mind-boggling, but conversely I can appreciate the intense dedication and effort Chua committed to her two daughters’ upbringing, so I feel like I understand Chua’s motivations a little better, and even admire her sheer audacity. Now that’s a freaking tiger.

Chua first introduces her story with a kind of disclaimer:

This is a story about a mother, two daughters, and two dogs. It’s also about Mozart and Mendelssohn, the piano and the violin, and how we made it to Carnegie Hall.

This was supposed to be a story of how Chinese parents are better at raising kids than Western ones.

But instead, it’s about a bitter clash of cultures, a fleeting taste of glory, and how I was humbled by a thirteen year old.

This does sum up the the memoir nicely.

Chua labels herself as “the Chinese mother” who raises stereotypically successful kids—the maths geniuses and musical prodigies. Chua’s husband, Jed, curiously, is Jewish, and it was agreed that their children be raised Jewish but speak Chinese Mandarin (and by default, taught in the Chinese way). You can imagine the powerhouse of a dynamic this family must be. Strangely, we don’t hear much of Jed in the book, and it may seem odd and negligent of him to not intervene in conflicts between his wife and his daughter/s. It must come down to the “Tiger Mother’s FEARSOME POWER!” which conservative Chinese mothers tend to have. I know this first hand.

I want to make it clear: there is strictly no such thing as “Chinese parenting”—the parenting Chua describes relates more with Chinese philosophy and societal values over centuries, as she loosely explains. Even so, I grant you, if you consulted most parents in contemporary China about Chua’s parenting they would be horrified too. And there are just as many negligent Chinese parents in mainland China as there are negligent Western parents. I discussed at length with my own father, who is essentially my tiger mother (as my mum has the sharp criticising tongue of a tiger but the parenting ethic of a negligent pet owner, seriously), about Chua, and he said to me bluntly, “she’s crazy!” but conceded that there is some merit in what she imposes on her children.

It’s funny that he said that, because as a child, I often thought my dad was so strict with me (but that’s what kids are practically programmed to think). Despite my being the only child and that I wanted for nothing, I was also subjected to an early academic regimen. I was a model student with straight As (which began to fluctuate by the end of high school). I knew complex maths by age 7 (Chua’s daughters had to be at least 2 years ahead of their class); I dared not tell my father of  a mark I received below 90%, which was already bad enough as that was 10% off a perfect 100%. If I found a word I did not understand I had to look it up in the dictionary, and write it down in a book. Dad introduced me to Charles Dickens at age 8 (one of the best things he did for me, in retrospect!) and always forced me to independent and think for myself. He would put me down so that I would then better myself—being cruel to be kind. I hated to disappoint my father, and was terrified of his disapproval, but I still managed to do so with stunning ease. It’s better now that I’ve finished university, but the limbo between high school and university is some of my darkest days, but I digress!

While there is no 101 for Chinese parenting, there is a distinct culture and thinking inherent in the Chinese that you can’t really deny. I too was constantly berated to not be complacent, to be humble and always improve myself. I’ve had countless retellings of my dad’s experience in the Cultural Revolution—the relentless studying and intense physical labour on the farms while leading a less than humble life, yet these are his fondest memories. This is something I can’t possibly appreciate; I can’t even feel humbled by it because it’s just way out of my grasp and understanding. I will never experience this. The Chinese have many idioms highlighting that you can’t taste sweetness without knowing bitterness, and my generation has been blessed to know only sweetness. There is much in Chua’s ideas regarding work ethics and expectations that mirrors my father’s, and I’m sure, countless other Asian children’s parents. But this is the extent to which Chua and my dad are similar.

Chua largely talks about how she trained her daughters to be stellar classical music performers. Most of the musical jargon flies over my head. She frequently uses examples to highlight the dichotomies of Western and Chinese cultures but loses ground towards her conclusion, which is telling of the self-doubts and unprecedented incidents she herself encountered as a strictly “Chinese” mother. Chua amazingly conceals prejudiced beliefs with moderate, reasonable ideas. For example, Chua argues that she wants her children “to be well rounded and to have hobbies and activities” and “to benefit from the best aspects of American society and not end up like one of those weird Asian automatons who feel so much pressure from their parents that they kill themselves after coming second on the national civil service exam”. But they can’t just apply themselves to any activity. “Crafts” are out of the question as they “lead to nowhere” and “drums” are even worse because apparently they lead to drugs. Chua’s two daughters, Lulu and Sophie play the violin and piano respectively. This becomes their “hobby” because of the instruments’ meaning and difficulty, with the potential for depth and virtuosity. (I would’ve been Chua’s worst nightmare then—my virtuosity was er… playing on the computer and drawing and writing fiction.) Chua later derides herself for becoming a “Western parent” for letting Lulu make her “decision” to ease up on the violin practising, and equates this to becoming a failure.

These are just some of her provocative ideas. She asserts that “all decent parents want to do what’s best for their children. The Chinese just have a totally different idea of how to do that. Western parents try to respect their children’s individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passions, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and a nurturing environment. By contrast, the Chinese believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they’re capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits and inner confidence that no one can ever take away.” Lulu actually rebels against her mother; although it pains Chua to feel Lulu slip out of her tutelage, as it were, the work ethic and values she so aggressively impressed upon her daughters was not for naught, as Lulu takes up a new activity with the same determination and drive as she committed to her violin. Chua admits her trials with Lulu have been “traumatic”, so even the tiger mother does not exit this battle unscathed.

Though my upbringing was nowhere near as severe as Chua’s daughters, I appreciate what little (by comparison) my father taught me when I was young. I am fortunate to have gotten a well-rounded Asian and Western upbringing package without the extra abuse and trauma. I don’t have glittering academic achievements but I have two degrees from a prestigious Australian university. The hours and abuse are long, but I am in a job I genuinely enjoy and find rewarding, and I did it largely without my parents’ help—financial aide and some emotional support notwithstanding. (Yet Chua also has a comeback for this platitude: “Just because you love seomething doesn’t mean you’ll be great. Not if you don’t work. Most people stink at the things they love.”) Both my parents were strict with me in terms of academia and manners, though I could never be quite comfortable confiding in them about more emotional aspects (hmm, The Talk? Never got it—thanks popular culture for teaching me though), but I would be an ungrateful brat to ask for more. I imagine with the kind of incessant mothering Chua did for her children, I could well have been a maths or literary genius, but ultimately we come back to the Nature versus Nurture debate and the right of choice. If the drive to be the best is within you, and you are willing to make the sacrifices and work harder than those beside you, you can and will be successful. Of course, it would help very much to have the supportive and nurturing love and guidance of one’s parents while in pursuit of personal dreams.

While Chua comes off as self-congratulatory and autocratic, and constantly thinks in only black and white terms (respectable/disrespectful, Chinese/Western, success/failure, et al), I can’t bring myself up to hating her either. I thought I did before, but that’s probably because I hadn’t read her book. I abhor her methods, as they are dangerous and detrimental to well-being and mental/physical health but she honestly believes that she has done good by her children, and luckily for her, she succeeded with her children because they could take it. I would have crumbled aeons ago under her diabolical regimen. The dynamics of her parenting changed when Lulu chose to pursue a different hobby other than violin, and Chua struggles to conclude her memoir, even consulting her husband and daughters for ideas. Does this mean then, that Western and Asian philosophies are not as mutually exclusive as she made them to be?

Psychologists say there are three kinds of parents: a) the democratic parent who knows how to compromise with the child, b) the abusive parent who eventually stirs up hate/resentment in the child, and c) the inactive parent who lets the child do whatever s/he pleases.

Parents aren’t perfect. Their parents weren’t perfect. Years from now it’ll be interesting to see how Chua’s daughters feel over how their mother raised them, whether they regret the “choices” they made, or not at all. I’m still pondering about this myself. Perhaps I won’t know for sure until I have children of my own (!). If I were ever to have children—and frankly the very thought frightens me to no end—I would hope to be a reasonable parent. But then, I don’t think I’d wish myself upon any future child either!

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
In a word: provocative

Essentially the Spirit (Gabriel Macht) is former rookie cop Denny Colt, brought back into the world to rid Central City of the bad guys, namely the Octopus (Samuel L Jackson). He has the begrudging blessings of the Chief Commisioner Dolan (Clearly Commissioner Gordon and Batman have a far healthier work relationship than Dolan and Spirit ever had…) who doesn’t exactly approve of the Spirit’s methods. Well, shock horror there.

I’ve always thought that Frank Miller is a mad genius but lately his work has been nothing short of confusing, bizarre and way beyond the post-post-post-post-modern. And yes, his misogyny and sexism is duly noted (Selina Kyle the whore much?). But in spite of all this, I still enjoy most of his new stuff since he dares to push his audiences to the limit. The only work of his I simply could not handle was The Dark Knight ...]]> I saw The Spirit at the Jam Factory this morning with Sylv. Since we went to the very first session of the day we had the whole theatre to ourselves! That was great. The movie—not so great, but still entertaining albeit on a superficial level. The excitement died down the instant we left the cinema.

Essentially the Spirit (Gabriel Macht) is former rookie cop Denny Colt, brought back into the world to rid Central City of the bad guys, namely the Octopus (Samuel L Jackson). He has the begrudging blessings of the Chief Commisioner Dolan (Clearly Commissioner Gordon and Batman have a far healthier work relationship than Dolan and Spirit ever had…) who doesn’t exactly approve of the Spirit’s methods. Well, shock horror there.

I’ve always thought that Frank Miller is a mad genius but lately his work has been nothing short of confusing, bizarre and way beyond the post-post-post-post-modern. And yes, his misogyny and sexism is duly noted (Selina Kyle the whore much?). But in spite of all this, I still enjoy most of his new stuff since he dares to push his audiences to the limit. The only work of his I simply could not handle was The Dark Knight Strikes Again. Completely unnecessary and ultimately infuriating.

I have not read any of Will Eisner’s work (yet), so I guess my opinion on the film adaptation could have been much worse. Miller’s brash over-the-top style oozes long-winded, unintentionally hilarious monologues, gratuitous violence, obscure references to other comics and femme fetales sporting bizarre outfits and kinks. Did not expect (and yet not surprised) to see a Nazi homage/spoof in the film, with Samuel L. Jackson playing the mad Josef Mengele-like “experimenter” and Scarlett Johansson sporting a prissy dominatrix get-up a la camp!SS- she-wolf. Was rolling my eyes at this spectacle the whole time. It reminded me painfully of Miller’s fascist villains in All Star Batman and Robin series and The Dark Knight Returns. Eva Mendes’ character Sand Saref (which in my mind was sans-serif, go figure that) is painfully irritating even for a femme fatale, while Sarah Paulson’s Ellen Dolan is the “resilient” down-to-earth lady in the sideline. A scarlet woman and an innocent damsel for our swashbuckling superhero. Hoo-hah.

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars (I’d give it more like 2.85)

What was way more awesome was watching the X-MEN Origins: Wolverine and Watchmen trailers back to back beforehand. Bloody brilliant. I truly cannot wait! That said, I intend to purchase the Watchmen graphic novel, but am not sure whether I want the paperback or the hardback. There are so many newly released books related to the film. Talk about marketing for the weak-willed masses.

And breaking news: apparently a Dark Knight sequel may be set for release in 2011, as hinted by the film’s executive producer himself, Michael E. Uslan (also responsible for pretty much every Batman production in motion picture). I think I may be warming a bit more to this idea now…

Have spent nearly half of my pay in one day on comics/books:

• Over and Over: A Catalogue of Hand Drawn Patterns – Michael Perry
• The Perils of Pleasure – Julie Anne Long
• Batman: The Long Halloween – Jeph Loeb, Tim Sale
• Batman: Private Casebook – Paul Dini, Dustin Nguyen
• Batman #685 – Paul Dini, Dustin Nguyen
• Amazing Spiderman #853 Variant Third Printing (the Obama issue, lolz) – Mark Waid, Phil Jimenez

Geebus, I don’t know how to save money…

Anyhow, some weeks ago I had applied for a web designer job at Lincraft, and had forgotten about it following my project with a new client, but I got a rejection email today. Ah, well. C’est la vie. I can’t travel to Clayton regularly anyway…

You know, after last night’s epic Australian Open men’s singles final, I am totally shipping Federer/Nadal. They are so awesome and so lovely! :D Can’t they both be number 1 together? :(

Also saw Australia yesterday.

I liked it overall, most likely ’cause I didn’t have great expectations, although I am partial to a sweeping, war epic (when it’s good, and this is quite good). Luhrmann’s really tried to pay tribute to the colonial Australian vernacular, perhaps to its downfall. It’s really, really long. But Hugh Jackman is hot. REALLY hot. And that should justify a viewing, at the very least!

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Brideshead Revisited

Up until this point I always assumed Evelyn Waugh was a woman, but this is the name, in fact, of a man. And I had no idea that the mini-series adaptation was held in such high regard. I got “free” tickets for an advanced screening at Nova, thanks to my delightful affiliation with the Monash Golden Key Society. Honestly, I paid $93 to join them; I should get the money back slowly but surely, no? In any case, I’m glad I didn’t technically pay for the film, because it was a bit of a disappointment. My appetite for visual candy was more than satisfied, however, probably to the point of gluttony. It is a sumptuous, seductive film for the senses. But for the mind? Maybe not so much. The protagonist, Charles Ryder, a modest painter is introduced to a world of decadence, wealth and opulence through his growing relationship with Sebastian Flyte at Oxford. He is swept away by the grandness of Sebastian’s home, Brideshead. What follows is a series of events that lead Charles into the closing, controlling grip of Brideshead itself, and the choices he makes ...]]> (I initally meant to post this on the 1st October. Go me.)

Brideshead Revisited

Up until this point I always assumed Evelyn Waugh was a woman, but this is the name, in fact, of a man. And I had no idea that the mini-series adaptation was held in such high regard. I got “free” tickets for an advanced screening at Nova, thanks to my delightful affiliation with the Monash Golden Key Society. Honestly, I paid $93 to join them; I should get the money back slowly but surely, no? In any case, I’m glad I didn’t technically pay for the film, because it was a bit of a disappointment. My appetite for visual candy was more than satisfied, however, probably to the point of gluttony. It is a sumptuous, seductive film for the senses. But for the mind? Maybe not so much. The protagonist, Charles Ryder, a modest painter is introduced to a world of decadence, wealth and opulence through his growing relationship with Sebastian Flyte at Oxford. He is swept away by the grandness of Sebastian’s home, Brideshead. What follows is a series of events that lead Charles into the closing, controlling grip of Brideshead itself, and the choices he makes or will not make, will haunt him forever. Yes, it’s that much fun. I was interested to know more about what WWII!Charles was up to. Surely that was not the point of the film!

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

WALL-E

Pixar (or should I say Disney Pixar) has long established itself as a superlative animation studio. Lately I’ve found their works to push the boundaries of not just the technology and art of animation but also in their unique story-telling. The narrative concepts are ambitious but intelligent, but Wall-E is somewhat different in the way there is little dialogue to ease the narrative along. The first half hour involves a lone robot, Wall-E (Waste Allocation Load Lifter Earth-class) processing endless bales of trash on a frightfully abandoned Earth, and coming “home” to a tip filled with trinkets discovered in trash. Wall-E is not entirely alone as he has a chirpy cockroach buddy who follows Wall-E around. The drama really comes with the arrival of a high-tech robot called EVE, sent to Earth on a mission for the Axiom, an enormous ship housing the Earth’s population for the duration of its clean-up.

Some may argue that this is of little relevance to a child, but come on, credit kids these days with a bit of intelligence here. Yes, it is a cautionery tale of the woes of waste and technology that screams Orwellian preachiness, but the universal elements of self-awareness, friendship and love are never far from the surface. As with all Pixar films the attention to detail is impeccable and meticulous; a true visual delight that warrants multiple viewings.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

Hellboy II: The Golden Army

I desperately want to watch this again after actually meeting Doug Jones (who played Abe Sapien in both Hellboy I and II, but voiced only the latter) last week. I enjoyed this a lot more than the first film, possibly because there is no exposition, or very little of it, at least. My favourite character out of the first film was indeed Abe Sapien, and I was delighted to see that his character had a plot going for him, including a love interest. Would be keen to see a third film in the works, but that does not seem likely, given that Guillermo del Toro’s got plenty on his plate right now (The Hobbit, anyone?).

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

Persepolis

A whirlwind narrative detailing the life of a young Iranian girl adapting to the political and social transformation of the world around her. All dialogue is in French, but the content is very much in the heart of Iranian culture and its deviations through the eyes of Marjane. Indeed I’m no expert on Iranian history or culture so I can only take on what’s being said at face value. Nevertheless, it’s a confronting exploration of the coming of age of a young woman—the opportunities that she’s been given, and the choices she’s made in coming to terms with her identity and herself. The animation is whimsical—the stills are almost exact replicas to that of the graphic novels, upon which the film is based—but simple with a loose flowing style. I loved it.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Old Reviews:
The Dark Knight

Um, it seems pointless to review this now. But hey, it’s my declaration to the world, among countless others, that this is a film to be reckoned with. Yes, a FILM, not just a BLOCKBUSTER POPCORN MOVIE. It’s been loved, cherished, and crafted with a no-nonsense attitude, intelligent writing, unforgettable characters and stunning photography and direction. To me, it’s the ultimate superhero film. (Curiously it channels the darkness and narratives of such graphic novels as Alan Moore’s The Killing Joke and Jeph Loeb’s The Long Halloween and Dark Victory. So read up on those if you want more Dark Knight goodness) I thought Batman Begins couldn’t be more gritty or real in the sense that it could happen to any metropolis. I was delightfully corrected. Like its predecessor, there is nothing camp about it, nothing “comic-like” (just a guy in a bat costume, and a psychopath in make-up), just a real exploration and reflection of moral anarchy and if one looks deeper: the lost American Dream. It gave me a truly good kick of adrenaline, and I was pretty much on the edge of my seat for most of the ride. It is that good.  Heath Ledger was truly breathtaking in a way that we’ve never seen him before, and never will again. It’s one hell of an epitaph. But let’s not give the late actor all the credit for the film’s success; this film wouldn’t have been if not for the superlative performances from Christian Bale, Aaron Eckhart, Gary Oldman, Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine. This is after all the story of the Dark Knight, and all that he’s created, gained, lost and found. I’ve seen it 3 times in the cinema (including IMAX, which was just, WOW, really. WOW. Six sequences were shot with IMAX cameras—the highest quality resolution yet) and no doubt when the DVD is released on December 10, 2008, it’ll be looping non-stop on my player.

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

Kung Fu Panda

Apart from making me feel a tad hungry, as looking at good Chinese food always does to me, and apart from my occasional scoffs at the inevitable Americanisation of Chinese culture (well, this does star Jack Black; you’re going to have to expect a lot of “awesomeness” and on-the-spot word inventories that go beyond the usual KAPOW and HYYAAAH!) this feature film does hold my attention with its usual moral tale, and its homage to martial arts and wushu. Basically, a fat, lazy panda who idolises the Furious Five (legendary Chinese warriors) ends up becoming the greatest legend of them all: the Dragon Warrior. Of course, that won’t do, and the rest of the Furious Five set out to prove it. We all know what happens next, I think. It’s wonderfully animated, with a perfect toned palette of pastels and contrasts, and the jokes come fast and heavy like dumplings. The marriage between Hollywood blockbustery-ness and Chinese sensibilities is well done, and this is perfectly reflected through the score by Hans Zimmer and John Powell. It’s one of my faves this year. A lot of Chinese themed work popping up in Hollywood this year—no coincidence with the Beijing Olympics? Probably one of the better creations to come out of Dreamworks since the original Shrek.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

Speed Racer

Pooh, so people are complaining how this film lacks any plot, and if attempts to create one it’s done haphazardly and with a bombardment of colours and visual effects so as to hypnotise the viewer into conveniently forgetting about it. I thoroughly enjoyed the ride, so to speak. I was never that great a fan of the original Speed Racer series, probably because I was about 3 decades away from being born, but I’m pretty sure I watched quite a few episodes in my day as a kid, and who can forget the unforgettably catchy theme song? With the Wachowski brothers, you know you can expect some spectacular visual effects and stunts, and this film certainly doesn’t disappoint in that respect. In fact, it explodes with all colours of the spectrum like a sea of Willy Wonka gobstoppers in a game arcade. The wooden acting should be forgiven, given that most of the time the actors were performing in front of blank green screens. Don’t go watching this if you’re expecting a brain-teaser, this is for numb skulls only. ;]

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

The Band’s Visit

I saw this on one of Nova’s cheap Monday sessions. I’m glad I went ’cause that time I really needed a breather from the wangst that is university life. The Band’s Visit is a beautiful, wry and amusing story of an Egyptian band of musicians who, by mistake, bureaucracy, or miscommunication, end up stranded in a tiny, inconsequential town in Israel. There are plenty of awkward (but priceless) silences, loneliness in all its bittersweet and sad forms and budding relationships between people who are making the most out of their circumstances.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

Upcoming Highlights:
- Quantum of Solace
- Australia
- Twilight
- Defiance
- Valkyrie
- Changeling
- The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
- Ghosttown
- Dragonball
- The Soloist
- X-MEN Origins: Wolverine