I realize as I enter into this blog post I might get slaughtered. I know there is a cult of women out there who love the book, Eat, Pray, Love. I’m sorry to report that I’m not one of those people. This book wore me the fuck out.
To be fair there were a few small moments in the book when the author made me sigh and say, “Yeah, that’s the truth.” However, overall, I just wanted it to end. I found it pretentious, self-absorbed and quite frankly tedious.
The thing that annoyed me most was her holier-than-thou stance on mental health medication. To be perfectly honest, I found some of the things she said in regards to treating mental illness borderline dangerous, given the popularity of the book.
I know I’m way behind on picking up this book. It was published in 2006, but here we are. I have also never seen the movie and have zero desire to do so. The main reason I decided to read it was because of pressure from my sister.
It was last winter and I was embarking on a week-long solitary retreat into the woods. She promised me this would be the perfect read for my getaway. I caved and agreed to give it a try. In all honesty, it should have been the perfect book for me. Travel, food and spirituality are literally some of my very favorite things. Alas, I did not connect with the author. She honestly beat me down.
Do I think it is fabulous that she could take a year after an ugly divorce to find herself? Fuck yeah, I do. However, this is a rarity for almost any person. Reading about her privilege and lack of appreciation for it was mind-numbing. She just seemed so out of touch with reality. Again, props for honesty and points for putting all of it out there, I guess.
When I told my sister that I didn’t like the book she was appalled. I have been very hesitant to mention my dislike of the book to anyone else. This book is beloved to so many people. I don’t want to diss something that was life-changing for another. It was not life-changing for me. It actually made me cuss out loud on numerous occasions.
One afternoon in my weekly knitting group which is held at a library, I was having a conversation with the librarian who I absolutely adore. I got brave enough to mention my dislike of Eat, Pray, Love to my librarian friend. She looked at me, rolled her eyes and said she hated that book. She read it years ago and it still annoys her. Oh, the vindication I felt. Not only did I find a compadre, but one who was a librarian and knew books! I no longer felt like the outsider who just didn’t get it.
In the end, books are just a personal preference. I should have stopped reading Eat, Pray, Love while she was getting fat in Italy. Her time in India only annoyed me and the bit in Bali made me roll my eyes so hard they almost got stuck in my head.
Maybe I’m just a cynic. I can accept that, but the last thing I needed on my woods retreat was some rich chick telling me how to find happiness and peace. More importantly, I don’t need someone judging me for my mental state. Fuck that.
If you love this book, I’m happy for you. I’ll be over here in the corner reading Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher. Now, that is a memoir!