"When I get lonely these days, I think: So BE lonely, Liz. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person's body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings."
Eat, Pray, Love| Elizabeth Gilbert
Scooby snacks for me! I’m posting to my blog on a Tuesday. I saw a woman reading Eat, Pray, Love on the tube this morning, and I wanted to hug her. No, not because I felt something inside of me fall in tune with her humanity, nor because she was so close to me (I might as well have hugged her, instead of trying to hold on to my little piece of the pole while trying to stay upright), but simply because I finally saw someone who had discovered the book even later than I did! Hooray, I’m not last!
I discovered Eat, Pray, Love last August. Clearly, I had been living in a literary hole, as I had not heard much about the book – and I pride myself on being a bit of a literary whore. So in my supreme arrogance, I simply assumed that the book was not very well-known (gosh, there really are times when one should pity the fool). So there I was, reading it as I was doing my first solo trek around Sri Lanka, thinking that in some past life, Elizabeth Gilbert was my spiritual sister. I felt as though the book was speaking directly to me. However, upon my return (and digging myself out of the literary hole), I discovered that the book had already been on the NY Times Bestseller list for months, and that every woman and their grandma thinks that Elizabeth Gilbert is their spiritual sister. So, either Elizabeth Gilbert has a lot of family, or she has managed to tap into something universal among women, or even something quite gender-neutral – we are all searching for something larger than ourselves, something deep within that gives us eternal peace and everlasting happiness.
It all sounds so melodic, and fantastic just uttering those words – eternal peace and everlasting happiness. I’m sorry to burst everyone’s bubble, or sound like the Grinch Who Stole Elizabth Gilbert’s Quest for Supreme Enlightenment Mojo, but hello?? How many women, stuck in unhappy situations, can afford to give up everything and travel around the world for a year?? And to add insult to injury, how many women can make heaploads of money after said frolic around the world for a year? I can’t even afford to be without a job for a month, far less for a year. Besides, a month off won’t get me much further than mooching off my parental unit, while watching trash television daily. Not much money to be made in that, let me tell you.
It’s not that I don’t find her story absolutely inspiring, and the lessons she learned along the way highly relevant to all of us in a very intimate way. I just don’t have that kind of money to piss off for a year to find myself. I’d probably piss off quite a few people, most of whom probably work for a financial establishment of some sort.
I began to wonder if I could embody the spirit of this best-selling tome and embark on my own quest for spiritual enlightenment, and if said quest could possibly be achieved within the confines of the Greater London area. I concluded that it would not be as easy as it sounds. Ben and Jerry’s Half Baked Ice-Cream is a wonderful feat of human creativity, but is it really a good substitute for authentic Italian pasta? And is sitting on the couch, mindlessly watching re-runs of Will and Grace, akin to silence and meditation? I could come up with some stellar arguments for the pro, but frankly, they all lie squarely in the realm of the con. As for love, let’s just not go there. I doubt Javier Bardem is going to show up on the doorstep of my flatshare, ready to whisk me away to a romantic weekend on a deserted island off the coast of England. My version of love these days is a handsome stranger helping me up after (another) fall in the station, giving me as much affection as he would give to his grandmother who has fallen after a hip replacement. “Oh, you poor, clumsy thing, hope you’re alright. My hot, Russian girlfriend is going to love this story tonight when we dine at The Ivy.”
A more realistic description of this Londonized quest, characterized by my penchant for the quirky, the clumsy, the obsessive and the truly strange, would be more like Stuff My Face, Laugh out (too) Loud, Lust. It may seem slightly banal, but trust me, it's the best you can get when you’re limited to Zones 1 and 2 on your Oyster card, have circa 40 pounds to get you through the rest of the month, and have recently discovered that all the good looking men on the tube curiously get off at the very next stop because you’ve been staring at them (and in no world is that anything but creepy). So, Elizabeth, eat your heart out (which you already have). My story may not take me to Bali, but hey, Balham isn’t so bad.
Wait, that’s in zone 3.
Oops.
Wait, that’s in zone 3.
Oops.
Love of the Week: My not so new haircut. Probably worth an entire article of its own, I am still overwhelmed by the liberation of going for a short do – so overwhelmed, in fact, that I relish the extra half an hour I now get in bed every morning. So what if it makes me late for work? These not so newly exposed cheekbones could save the world.
Peeve of the Week: The Clapham Crush. It’s no secret how I feel about the Northern Line and crush hour. However, I’d like to make this an open message to all the people who stand in the middle of the carriage, comfortably reading their books and newspapers, while the rest of us poor souls try to push our way onto the train – I AM WATCHING YOU. I JUDGE YOU. And to the lady who complained that I was crushing her precious Mulberry – look on the bright side sister, it's leather, and now it just looks distressed. Like me.
2 comments:
Let me tell you... man after I saw the movie (did not read the book) I was so bloody pissed off.
I’ll have a full convo with you at some point concerning how selfish I think Julia Robert’s character was in the movie. Totally self absorbed. Male perspective: I would never want to even attempt to be with someone like that character. One day she might wake up again and feel she needs to find herself ... AGAIN... and just ups and ride out to lime with some monks in Bali. Even at the end of the damn movie some random monk dude had to tell her to go after the guy (I think he was French or something). That movie got nothing but a big steups from me.
Anyway, nice blog :) Hilarious as usual.
The movie, as is the case with most adaptations, removed some very crucial and pivotal moments that were included in the book. I read the book first, and I was very disappointed with the movie, as it very much sensationalized Gilbert’s experience. There was an element of self-absorption that accompanied her quest. However, that is the whole point of self-discovery: becoming absorbed in one’s self, instead of in something else (sounds familiar?). There were many struggles that Gilbert experienced (especially in Italy) that the movie chose not to explore. For example, Gilbert massively struggled with depression while she was in Italy, and was placed on medication. She is very frank and honest about the solitary experience of dealing with the illness, and that resonated with a lot of women who have been through similar episodes. Unfortunately, depression is a close relative of self-absorption, and without the revelation of the former, the latter can seem quite selfish.
I agree, the movie is deserving of a steups, not because of what it symbolizes, but what it trivializes and as I said, sensationalizes. Finding the courage to do what Gilbert did is, in and of itself, an amazing and powerful thing. Like I said in my blog, the majority of women cannot afford to leave their lives for a year, to have these profound experiences in exotic locations. However, what I took from the book, or perhaps, what the movie should have demonstrated, is that every small step towards self-actualization requires courage, and should be celebrated and applauded. To take a step into the dark, hoping that there will eventually be light is not the for the faint of heart. The realization that in the end, light arrived is as empowering, as it is character building. And in that, my friend, there is anything but a steups.
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