No doubt somebody really liked this book and will disagree with me venomously*, but the EPL book, while has proved such a blockbuster it is being made into a movie (with the likes of Julia Roberts as lead, no less, and that ¨uber-yummy Javier Bardem guy), was, to me, a real dud. Such a let-down. (Though the movie, I suspect, will be a cute chick flick. If nothing else, but to feast one's eyes on Bardem. Sigh).
Okay, mooning over. Back to the book: Am I the only reader who thought, when the writer was falling apart because of a failed marriage, 'Oh crimnamy, woman up, buck up and shoulder on.' Maybe because I've gone through a divorce and have lived with 25 years of surgery and chronic illness, I don't have much patience for wading through pages and pages of self-absorbed whining and moaning.
The 'E' part of the book was my favorite. What person hasn't entertained the idea of leaving it all behind and beginning over? To do so in a foreign country as exquisite as Italy must have been a dream come true. Her descriptions and accounts of her life were funny, ironic and marvelous. The 'P' half was interesting -- just. Again, too self-indulgent to fully engage this reader. And I'm fascinated with spirituality, spiritual matters, and different religions. But the killer, to me, was the 'L' ending. She seemed to have learned nothing from her experiences on the road. As soon as she falls for 'F,' all her new-found-knowledge seems to fly out the window, and what hard-learned lessons she learned didn't seem to 'take,' as she once again falls into a narcissist and needy pattern of living.
This is a book I read 2 years ago, but it's newly bugging me because I can't pick up a magazine without seeing a headline blaring her name and touting her new book on, of all things, marriage, which she assures us right away she was 'forced' into by immigration services who would not allow 'F' in the country otherwise. I have read the articles, and an excerpt of the new book, and all I can add to this rant is that I won't be reading the rest of it, and she must have one hell of an agent to garner all the publicity she's commanding.
And I add for the record that biographies and memoirs are among my favorite genres of reading. Bought the newest bio on Louisa May Alcott the other day.
* Do it on your own blog. I reserve the right to reign on this one. Ha.