Book Review #12--Eat, Pray, Love

Kelly also sent me Eat, Pray, Love. I have to hand it to Elizabeth Gilbert--She is an amazing writer. I found myself literally transported to Italy, India, and Indonesia by her descriptive writing. But I have this little problem in life that I am trying to overcome. I am highly judgemental, especially of people who I feel have made serious mistakes in their life that lead to unhappiness. I couldn't help but be annoyed by the author and wanted to scream at her how can you be my age and be so clueless and empty? She certainly doesn't see herself this way but I became so bored with her year long journey of healing that I could barely make it through the book. I thought that Italy was interesting and it was my favorite part, even though it was the most indulgent part of the book. I felt like India and Indonesia dragged.

I looked up Elizabeth Gilbert's website and read through her FAQ. One question was:

WERE YOU EVER WORRIED THAT TAKING A YEAR OFF TO TRAVEL AROUND THE WORLD WAS A SELFISH ACT?
Her Response:

What is it about the American obsession with productivity and responsibility that makes it so difficult for us to allow ourselves a little time to solve the puzzle of our own lives, before it’s too late? That said, yes – I did worry a great deal about selfishness. But after three years of despair and depression, I had come to believe that living my life in a state of constant misery was actually a pretty selfish act. Who would be served by a lifetime of my sorrow? How would that enrich the world? Going off for a year and creating a journey to pull myself back together, to rediscover joy, to face down my failings and rebuild my existence, was not only an important thing for my life, but ultimately for the lives of everyone around me. And it’s not just my family and friends who are better off now that I am happy; it’s everyone I encounter. Because the reality is that we human beings are constantly leaking our dispositions upon each other. When I was in such a dark state, everyone I passed on the street had to walk through the shadow of my darkness, whether they knew me or not. I remember once, during my divorce, crying uncontrollably on the subway in New York City. When I look back on that crying young woman, I feel great compassion for what she was going through. But I can also feel pity now, in retrospect, for those poor, weary New York commuters, who had to sit there after their own long days at work, watching this sobbing stranger. I didn’t want to be that person anymore. Saving my own life (through therapy, medication, prayer and – most of all -- travel) was something I did for my own benefit, yes, but I can’t help but think that it was ultimately also a little bit of a community service.

Even though I found this book depressing and uninspiring I agree with her statement. I found myself grateful that I have such an ordinary life.