Well, Debpc, and Oprah, you big, manipulative, conquerer of all that is mundane, I do not find Eat Pray Love to be the book that changed my life, after all. When I started it a couple of days ago, I thought that Liz Gilbert came off as likeable, humble and brimming with well-told anecdotes of life as a cultural drop-out. Unfortunately, her tales have failed to live up to the hype. The portion of the book that she calls “Eat” is really about how fabulous she is at speaking Italian and how easily she makes friends and how she is supremely and uniquely capable of taking handsome lovers only to dump them later when they do not meet her high expectations (such expectations include the desire for souls to merge, among others). There’s very little eating in it at all, although by the end of the “Eat” portion, she closes by saying that after four months of eating really yummy food in Italy, she now has put on some much needed weight because before she had been too thin.
BITCH. Them thar be fightin’ words, lady.
We open the next portion of Speak, Brag, Self-Love with her making her way to India, to live on the Ashram of her Guru, whom she has never met. She tells us oh so humbly that she sucks at meditating, except that it’s really the fault of the mantra, “Om Namah Shivaya”. Yeah. She can’t seem to make that work for her. So one fine day she switches to another mantra, and it is on this very day that she experiences KUNDALINI RISING!!! She no longer sucks at meditating. In fact, she is the BEST MEDITATOR EVER!
That’s as far as I’ve gotten. I know that what comes next, the part she calls “Love”, will be about her visit to an Indonesian Medicine Man, who upon meeting her once, sees something so amazing in her that, right then and there, he invites her to come stay with him in Bali.
But before I get to that, and I really want to, because it gives me something to bitch about, and rather like that sometimes, I will have to get through 35 more vignettes of Liz Gilbert’s life in India, as she eats more than any girl of her skinniness and beauty while losing all the weight she gained in Italy (BITCH! Didn’t I tell you to stop talking like that?) and refers to yoga as “yoking like an oxen” the discipline to work hard, or some such bullshit that I have never ever heard before as a definition of yoga.
It makes me want to go to an Ashram and NOT be such an egotistical, narcissistic beeyotch. If that’s not a good reason to go to an Ashram while my kids are at camp this summer, I defy you to find one that is.