Author discovers herself abroad

Written by Ashlee Burke

Tuesday, 24 February 2009 17:31

“Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything across Italy, India and Indonesia” is a memoir of author Elizabeth Gilbert. When reading the book I had a very odd experience. I enjoyed it, but every once in a while I would just be completely uncomfortable by it. And then there would be this incredible insight hidden in a paragraph and the book would once again consume me. Meant to be a kind of spiritual, inspirational, self-help type book, it succeeded in some areas and failed miserably in others.

One of the things that made the book difficult for me to connect with was the fact that Gilbert wrote the book as a way to help get over a difficult divorce and subsequent messy affair with a younger man. Being a 20-year-old college student, I couldn’t really relate to the situation at all, making my sympathy for the author rather slim.

For most of the introduction, I just wanted to tell the author to get over herself already. She just went on and on about how rough she had it, when most of her problems she caused herself in my opinion. It wasn’t until she began her travels that I really began to be able to connect with the message of the book, making it almost become more of a cautionary tale than an inspirational message.

When in Italy, Gilbert set out to enjoy the passion of life. She ate whatever she wanted to eat, and she learned a language (Italian) that had no useful purpose other than the fact that she just always wanted to learn it.

One of the things I appreciated was that she wasn’t learning about how to be passionate with people, but with herself. So there was no steamy Italian affair. If there had been I probably would have put the book down right then and there.

When in India, Gilbert set out to learn devotion. She lived in an ashram and spent her days in meditation and prayer. This section was my favorite of the book. She really took the time to heal and her writing really reflected this.

Indonesia to me was the creepiest part of the book. She lived in Bali with a little, hilarious Balinese medicine man. He reminded me of a spiritual Mr. Miyagi for Gilbert. What creeped me out was a romantic affair that she started having with some 50-year-old Brazilian man.

The end of the book pretty much lost me. If I read it again I would probably just start and stop with India. I would recommend this book as a cautionary tale that kind of shows that if you don’t take time to learn who you are before connecting your life with someone else’s, chances are you are going to, at some point, break down and have to learn it the hard way.

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