For all of the deliciously feminine traits I have in spades, being a fan of “chick flick” fodder is generally not one of them. Oh, there are exceptions to every rule, of course. For example, I am an unabashed fan of the film Ever After (yes, the Cinderella retelling with Drew Barrymore as its heroine), and films like Shakespeare In Love and Sliding Doors have been known to make me swoon. But the last several years have seen quite an unfortunate trend in female-oriented cinema, with foolish premises and frustrating archetypes abounding. And as I grow ever more worldly and wise over time, I have much less patience for the tired story lines (always the bridesmaid, never the bride; girl overcomes trials and tragedy to get the guy of her dreams; etc etc). Perhaps that’s why the premise of Eat, Pray, Love intrigued me so, and indeed, the book came to me at a rather opportune moment in my life.
I was adrift in the Portland airport at the culmination of a disastrous vacation which found me stranded in an unfamiliar locale, all by my lonesome. After 3 days of trudging about the rain-soaked city, I was exhausted and rather finished with unreliable hotels, unreliable rental cars, and most of all, unreliable men. I arrived hours early for my flight home, and needing some distraction I found myself in the bookstore, gazing at a mountainous display of Elizabeth Gilbert’s tome, which had recently been touted as Oprah’s “book of the year” or similar. I usually take Ms. Winfrey’s literary recommendations with a grain of salt, often finding them too preachy or sentimental for my tastes. But curiosity got the best of me, so I purchased a copy and settled myself in a deserted area of the concourse for a good, long read.
To sum up, EPL is a memoir of a woman in her early thirties who has a seemingly ideal life – the big house, the loving husband, the successful career – but feels trapped and dissatisfied nonetheless. So through a series of fortuitous events, she embarks upon a year long “journey of self-discovery” through Italy, India, and Indonesia. Is it indulgent and trite at times? Absolutely. But it fascinated me with its ideas of nonconformity. Here was a woman who had walked the “make no waves, be everything for everyone” path, and got well and truly fed up with it. So she did something completely selfishly-oriented – hedonistic, even – and came out the other end feeling lighter, happier, and marvelously fulfilled. That’s one personal journey I can certainly admire.
For all its admirers though, the book – and now the film – have aroused a great deal of dissent. Of the film, I won’t go into reviewing it other than to say that it was an acceptable adaptation, though a great deal was omitted and some serious liberties were taken. But of the author’s story, I can see why it rankles some people. Gilbert has become something of a hero to scores of seemingly content women who were, in fact, rather unfulfilled with their lots in life. She made the idea of not wanting marriage or children far less taboo, and encouraged the practice of putting the self at the front and center of one’s life. But how many of her readers were really in a position in their lives to take advantage of such “radical thinking”? It wasn’t all smooth sailing though; the author even detailed the laborious and excruciating task of ending her marriage – and watching my own parents’ struggle with obtaining a divorce in the same state, I can attest to how difficult New York law makes that process. But she was still fairly young in years, childless, and a moderately well-off writer with the luxury of being able to obtain a monetary advance from her publisher that paid for her year of enlightenment. As such, many felt that to inspire discontent in women who were far less able to make dramatic life changes was unfair. Still, isn’t the hallmark of a moving piece of work (be it art, film, music, etc) its ability to stir up emotions or new ways of looking at life – no matter the potentially controversial consequence?
Though it had been sometime since I’d read the book, seeing Eat, Pray, Love at the theater reminded me of what I had enjoyed about its premise. Strip away the frequent narcissism and meandering style, and Gilbert’s journey was rather revelatory. Sure, she was hardly the first and certainly won’t be the last author suggest the idea of spiritual egoism (Ayn Rand’s philosophy comes to mind), but she also spoke frankly about finding freedom from depression and dependency in a way that was refreshing. Even moreso, the notion that women don’t need to follow in their mother’s footsteps or fulfill some societal tradition or ideal in order to have meaningful lives. In fact, the exact opposite can be the pathway to happiness for some.
My friend S paid me a lovely compliment recently; he said I was one of the most secure women he’d ever known. “You don’t invite people into your life because you need rescuing, or because you need them to fill some specific role. You’re secure, individual, independent.” And those traits are what drive me, more now than ever before. To once more revisit the theme of EPL, feed yourself – literally and figuratively – with the things that fulfill you, that bring joy and pleasure into your life. Explore what fascinates you, philosophically and spiritually, and celebrate the ideas that make you feel connected (even if they don’t quite jive with what others expect of you). And above all else, appreciate that soul inside you – the essence that makes you YOU. We’re like rare and complex recipes, made up of unique spices and experiences that can never quite be duplicated. Life is fleeting; enjoy it while it lasts. Even if it’s a chick flick, an indulgent memoir, a year spent tripping around the continents on a spiritual quest. Or as the Italians so poetically advise: il dolce far niente. “The sweetness of doing nothing.” What could be more soul-satisfying than that?
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