iamnotdefeated

I really didn't keep count of how many books I actually completed, but this is one of the few, if not the only one I've had the opportunity to complete cover to cover.

"Eat, Pray, Love" is a non-fiction account of Elizabeth Gilbert, who spends a year trying to get to understand herself and find inner peace, first by learning to enjoy life in Italy, then by visiting an Ashram in India, and then spending four months learning from a Balinese medicine man.

Generally the new fad of non-fiction life stories is not my cup of tea, and for the first 36 chapters, I wanted to continuously put the book down as it was little more than wining and pouting as she is eating her way up three sizes, and all I can think about is, "oh hey, pasta sounds really good right now." But as we move out of the selfish phase of the book and into the more reflective sections of India and Bali, I came to appreciate that Elizabeth's insight to faith, religion, and the world around us meshed well with my existing modified Catholic view point, especially the following thoughts:

"Evolution of religious thinking does involve a fair bit of cherry-picking. You take whatever works from wherever you can find it, and you keep moving toward the light. The Hopi Indians thought that the world's religions each contained one spiritual threatd, and that these threads are always seeking each other, wanting to join. When all the threads are finally woven together they will form a rope that will pull us out of this dark cycle of history and into the next realm."

"In 1954, Pope Pius XI, of all people, sent some Vatican delegates on a trip to Libya with these written instructions: 'DO NOT think that you are going among Infidels. Muslims attain salvation, too. The ways of Providence are infinite.' But doesn't that make sense? That the infinit would be, indeed... infinite? That even the most holy amongst us would only be able to see the scattered pieces of the eternal picture at any given time? And that maybe if we could collect those pieces and compare them, a story about God would be gint o emerge that resembles and includes everyone? And isn't our individual longing for transcendence all just part of this larger human search for divinity? Don't we each have the right to not stop seeking until we get as close to the source of wonder as possible? Even if it means coming to India and kissing trees in the moonlight for a while? That's me in the corner, in other words. That's me in the spotlight. Choosing my religion."

It wasn't until nearly the end of the India section, when she really spouting off philosophy of religion that I started to really grip at the book, to want to keep reading, but once she expressed exactly how I've felt for years, I knew I'd make it through the rest of the book.

Ms. Gilbert is very well educated, and one of the main aspects I liked was that she brought in facts and information one might not necessarily put together on the spot, such as the Hopi Indians in the middle of a Yoga Ashram in the actual India. She also gives a well versed description of the environment around her, not just as Thoreau in "Walden" where he gives a physical description, but she describes the society in whole, and relates to the average everyday American who might be throwing themselves into the foreign world.

All in all, despite the fact that I generally dislike this genre, which is of course all the rage, I agreed with the author's viewpoints towards the middle and the end, and finally began to enjoy reading this book. I think the memoir genre could learn a lot about her writing style and technique to keep the reader engaged, and to move into a variety of topics, not just a recounting of a tale. I find it a bit conceited that Elizabeth pre-sold the book for the money to make this journey, as she fully expected this hit best-seller to really just write itself if she traveled as she expected, but the payoff worked, and while I would never call her a story-teller, as really this is not a journey with plot and action, her introspection was well applied and painstakingly forced into action, and for that, I applaud her.