god via pizza

Finally finished Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I am probably one of the last people to read it, I know. When I started it a couple of weeks ago, my initial reaction was why do I want to read this?

Not for anything but here is the story of a woman who pretty much had everything our culture teaches us is means we won the jackpot. She was educated, had a good job, a loving family, a husband, and a lovely home. As an added bonus, she is also good-looking. Yet here she is having a breakdown on her bathroom floor in the middle of the night? Why would anyone want to read that?!

And so I put it down. I didn't want to read about someone who was unhappy despite having everything she wanted (or at least thought she wanted). How depressing.

But then the author was on the late night repeat of Oprah. And yes, I stayed up and watched it despite B's objection to the Big O.

Honestly, I still wasn't sure what to expect. There was one woman in the audience who shared that she had found God after reading this book. Another woman turned her walk-in closet into a sanctuary, proving that you didn't need to go to India to for a spiritual journey. Of course another woman hopped on a plane and found the medicine man in Bali. The audience was full of women who carried this book around like a personal bible. Despite that some of them were ready to make Elizabeth Gilbert their personal Jesus, I had to see for myself.

I made it through Italy on the first night and then India and Indonesia on the second. There were parts that spoke to me, but overall I don't think there is much new here. It reminded me of Conversations with God and Carolyn Myss. Elizabeth Gilbert just ate more pasta - her nickname in India was "Groceries".


on the night stand :: Eat, Pray, Love

a book review :: driving with dead people

My friend, S, let me borrow this book when I saw her while visiting Seattle. When I started reading Driving with Dead People, I thought it was going to be like Six Feet Under, but maybe darker. I had no idea how dark it would get and finished the book on the second night, staying up until dawn. I actually sobbed during parts of it, but I can't exactly explain why.

The book is the memoir of Monica Holloway, although there is a disclaimer in the 'Note to the Reader', stating that some of characters may be composites. I suspect this may now be required after the fiasco that was A Million Little Pieces. In some ways I hope that this is the case, although part of me wishes the author made this book up, because who would want anyone to go through what she wrote.

Monica is the youngest of four siblings, and both her mother and her father tell her that she was a mistake - they only wanted three children. That right there, might make it hard for most people to cope, but despite it all, Monica strives to make the best of her situation.

One of the father's hobbies is taking photographs and movies of accidents and bad weather. There is a great scene where he takes all four kids out to watch a tornado. When the kids don't think it is as fun as their dad does, he calls them wimps, gets them back in the car and drops them home so he can continue on his quest.

The title of the book comes from Monica's obsession with an eight-year old girl who dies when Monica is also eight. They didn't know each other, but Monica lies and gets her grandmother to take her to the viewing. Later, she meets and befriends the undertakers daughter, which eventually leads to the two of them (many years later) picking up (out of town) dead bodies at the airport.

If you like gut wrenching memoirs (think Running with Scissors and The Glass Castle), you will probably enjoy this one too. Sometimes I guess it does help to know that there are people who had it worse than you.


on the night stand :: Horns & Wrinkles