I read Tiger Mother as a kind of Amadeus, a story of not-quite-requited love for classical music, told by a somewhat monstrous narrator who can understand Mozart only in terms of notes and competition. Maniacally driving Chinese parents are like Salieri – they can name the notes, but they do not have the magic….
One of the most painful things about being us is how we ache to be as beloved as Mozart, but are stunted. When I think of Chinese parents, I think of people who weep upon hearing Beethoven, but who can’t necessarily bring that joy to others….
In the end, art isn’t about numbers. In the end, there was only one Mozart, and he wasn’t Chinese.
‘[T]there was only one Mozart, and he wasn’t Chinese’
The foregoing posting appeared on Joe Clark’s personal Weblog on 2011.04.14 14:28. This presentation was designed for printing and omits components that make sense only onscreen. The permanent link is: https://blog.fawny.org/2011/04/14/loh-tiger/