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"Finally, Gilbert takes off for Bali, and settles in a village of 'pink clouds,' rice patties, lush equatorial flowers."
Rice patties? Is that an enlightened snack food?
If the book is as fatuously *omigod!* as the review, I'll pass.
I believe you when you say this author is "fiercely intelligent", "self-deprecating", etc. in her writings. I also believe (very easily) that, as you said, self-absorbed and self-congratulatory would work as well (just who ARE these extraordinary folks that have the time and money-- and the lack of commitments at home-- to go jaunting off like this??) Maybe I'm just not fanciful enough to get carried away by this kind of story. I did roll my eyes once or twice, although you said you didn't.
I'd rather hear a stiff "he-done-me-wrong" nitty-gritty breakup bit about how some sop got over the miserable thing without the help of grandiose locations and Brazilian lovers-- just maybe with some booze and a buddy or two, and the long slow healer time, like the rest of us. Seems more relevant.
Like it would be much help to the average person who is encumbered by an office job and children and of course without a book deal. Meditation can help, I suppose, but really how much help did this woman need? It sounded as if she had a huge advantage from the very start.
So how do we,who aren't blessed handle our depression? Oh well, I just asked.
