Eat Pray Love – what a dog

I haven’t seen the movie Eat Pray Love but I’ve read the book and it felt like I was eating a roll-your-own polished turd.

Elizabeth Gilbert went on a year long journey overseas to get over her divorce while finding herself and forgetting all her woes. Woes? What woes? She already had a book advance for heaven’s sake. She also had a movie deal from a previous book. Most people who get divorced (the only problem she could actually come up with) are headed for a life of reading books by Stephen Covey and experimenting with Dan Murphy wine. A book-deal funded trip to Italy with the sole purpose of eating and drinking does not come into it. At one point she even complains because she is not on holiday. I mean – seriously.

Then the ashram, which in terms of reading interest was approximately the same as watching Steel Magnolias backwards, but I kept reading because well – something had to happen, right? Wrong. So wong.

In Indonesia she has cups of tea with a medicine man, but dumps all her spiritual practice the moment a Brazilian expat gives her a compliment and then hops into bed with him. So much for the year of celibacy or enlightenment too, for that matter.

I think the government should grant every divorcee a year of travel to find themselves and eat a few nice meals. It should be a right of passage, like acne or getting your car radio stolen. But unlike, Madam Gilbert, most of us live in the real world where book and movie deals don’t feature a lot, so we have to make do with Dan Murphy.

But apparently her ex husband spent a year travelling too after their divorce. He didn’t go to find himself or bonk Brazilian expats, but helped out in the third world. No book deal. No publicity. Just quietly lending a hand. Now there is a movie that will never get made.


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