内容简介
“Number One” was a phrase my father—and, for that matter, mymother—repeated time and time again. It was a phrase spoken by myparents’ friends and by their friends’ children. Whenever adultsdiscussed the great Chinese painters and sculptors from the ancientdynasties, there was always a single artist named as Number One.There was the Number One leader of a manufacturing plant, theNumber One worker, the Number One scientist, the Number One carmechanic. In the culture of my childhood, being best waseverything. It was the goal that drove us, the motivation that gavelife meaning. And if, by chance or fate or the blessings of thegenerous universe, you were a child in whom talent was evident,Number One became your mantra. It became mine. I never begged myparents to take off the pressure. I accepted it; I even enjoyed it.It was a game, this contest among aspiring pianists, and although Imay have been shy, I was bold, even at age five, when faced with afield of rivals.