Why Oprah shouldn't be allowed to have a Book Club.

Since my “Living Under a Blanket of Smog” blog I haven’t ventured into the blogging world. A great loss for all mankind, I know. However, I recently decided it would be fun to start a new blog about, what else, books! Ok, before you let that groan escape, I actually don’t plan to write only about books. If ever something exciting happens to me or Miles I will be sure to update you on it. Currently, our slightly anti-social, curmudgeonly routine of reading and drinking tea in the evening has seriously inhibited most forms of relatable excitement, (unless you’re into scholarly excitement), so a book blog seemed the way to go. :)

Eat Pray Love (alternate title: Indulge Complain Annoy)

I picked up this book while doing some “impulse borrowing” at the library this Saturday. Miles and I are saving our pennies for our move to Logan next month, so library shopping is the closest I can get to experiencing shopping endorphins. I’ve been hearing about Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat Pray Love for several years and figured it was finally time to give it a go. After all, women all over the world have been raving about it and it is part of Oprah’s book club (cringe). Preparing myself for a possibly enlightening read I eagerly opened the book .... and read .... and realized that it’s amazing how much time rich people have to be obsessed about themselves. 

What Elizabeth Gilbert taught me about life:

Responsibility is optional.

Having children will destroy your ability to travel the world. 

You must be a likable enough person so that when you consistently whine about yourself you will find people willing to listen to your problems. Heaven help you if you don’t have her magical ability to attract people through incessant self-pity. 

Dirty bathrooms are the best places to cry; especially if you’re face down on the tiles next to the toilet. 

Dislike is too delicate a word to describe my feelings towards this book. Abhor might be a little strong, but is definitely closer to the mark. Perhaps I’m a little cynical, but setting off to write a book about spiritual transformation when you’ve already been paid in advance to write it seems a little calculating and discrediting. Her admittedly “cherry-picking” religiosity came across as the all too familiar new-age chant of the rich and privileged. As far as I can tell, this is the recipe for a religion that won’t make you uncomfortable or ask you to give up anything (except your money):

2 cups of your own personal Guru 

1 heaping cup of dislike for George W. Bush 

1/2 cup Indian yogic traditions

2 Tbs of Buddha 

sprinkle with chanting in sanskrit 

Forcing myself to read this book was like rolling around in sheets of fiberglass insulation. Pure torture.