So, I’m blogging in late on Eat, Pray, Love but it’s been on what’s left of my mind.
I read this book last summer before I entered grad school. I enjoyed it. Did I think it was a Pulitzer Prize Winner? No. Did I think it was drivel? No. I started it reading with doubt–it sounded waaayyyy too self-indulgent to me. The first few chapters (beads) were definitely just that. Then I read a passage in which Gilbert described the desperation for attention from one’s beloved like an addiction and a resonant bell rang. Been there, done that. I kept reading. It may not have been a life-altering experience, but I was interested in where she was, what she was doing. Twice, perhaps three times during the course of this book, I came across a passage that so resonated that it was worth reading through a lot of excess wordage to get to it. BUT, I was reading, not as a writer, but as a reader. An ordinary, garden variety, read and pass the book along person.
Of all the assigned work we’ve read this semester, I heard more discussion–more passion–around this book. Perhpas it is because of the commercial success (jealousy is so unattractive). My fellow students seemed to either love or hate this book, with no in between. Those of us on the negative side seemed to view it with sanctimonious indignation. Those of us on the positive side seemed sheepish. Major criticisms involved the fact that the author was granted a big fat purse in advance. “She knew what she was going to write ahead of time!” “It was written to satisfy a commitment!” These were some of our comments. I say our, because I, too, have had mixed feelings about this.
In every writing class I’ve taken at Mills–at least everyone taught by a published writer, and I think that’s all of them–we’ve spent at least one class period, usually toward the end of the semester, talking about publishing. Practical advice about getting an agent, selling a story, nuts and bolts about how often and where to submit. I always come away from these discussions with a feeling of sadness, as if someone has taken all the alchemy–the joy–out of the process. It’s a brutal, unforgiving industry! I guess I prefer the image of a fairy godmother discovering my work and exclaiming “Eureka, this must be available to all!” Presto! With the wave of her magic wand, there I am on the best-seller lists. OR, I take the attitude that I don’t care, that publishing is secondary, that it’s all about writing, not the end game. Still, I’m left, here at the end of my first year of the MFA program, trying to weigh true feelings against harsh reality.
It is my understanding that non-fiction books are most often pitched and sold on the strength of a couple of sample chapters and a proposal. If so, then Elizabeth Gilbert’s process was appropriate. Does the fact that she was, in essence, employed by her publisher somehow make her work less worthy? Her experience less authentic? Would we have preferred that, upon ending her spiritual/physical journey, someone had stumbled on her hidden journal and proposed–no insisted–that it had to be shared? Would it then have been more palatable, more worthy?
If we as writers, criticize one of our own for playing the game as it is played, do we diminish their work and ourselves for wanting our work to be read/recognized?
How do we find equilibrium in a mine-field of mixed messages?
Hmm. Your points are interesting in this post. I was one who did not like the book. Mostly this is because I felt that in reading a book I am giving an author my time, which I value, and the author is giving me her work, her work that should be good. I know that the concept of good is completely objective. However, it is clear that Eat, Pray, Love had little editing. So I felt cheated. If it worth the investment of my time and money to read this book then it is worth the investment of editing a piece. I felt cheated and disrespected. There were some interesting moments in the book and I didn’t hate it, but in the end I was left feeling angry at the lack of commitment put into the book. But you are right–NF is sold by chapters and not a whole finished project so probably the author is not the (only) one to blame in the shortcomings I found. And it is just me. I think the author could have done MUCH better and I am bothered that she didn’t. And maybe a little jealous that her half effort got her published and another book too. But that’s this world. I think most people in the US don’t care to read beautiful polished art, people want something they can relate to and don’t have to work or think for, and in that Eat, Pray, Love succeeded completely.
Thank you for relating your thoughts on publishing with this book. You raised many good points. I usually feel depressed after having the “publishing” talk myself. Isn’t that funny? I really, really wish there was a faerie godmother out there awarding publishing contracts on merit. Here’s to faeries and magic then! see you in class…
i thought your post was really well-written. i’ll def have to check out some of your other stuff. how is it being in an mfa program? if you’ve already written about it, could you send me the link?
as far as the book goes, i’m just wrapping up gilbert’s time in india. i really have enjoyed the book so far, but i think that’s because i’m listening to the audio version of it. i’ve been able to distance myself as a writer or a critic and just listen to her journey, as my heart heals from my own disasters in love.
<3 lissa (aka turtlefly)
Hi! I was surfing and found your blog post… nice! I love your blog.
Cheers! Sandra. R.