Elizabeth Gilbert Will Have Her Revenge: Battle of the Oprah-Endorsed Books, Part 2

Don't get us wrong. We at NBLB enjoyed reading Eat, Pray, Love. We both had so much fun recommending this book to each other, and to our friends as well.

I, personally, would like to invite Elizabeth Gilbert to sit down with me and talk about our travels over a never-ending array of coffee drinks and chocolate pastries. I honestly believe Liz when she tells me that she never intended her little memoir about chucking it all to see the world to turn into a "self help" phenomenon, and she never intended for people to copy her story to the very letter.

(I also think that my friend from Cleveland should really ease up on reading gossip blogs writtten by bitter gays... but I digress.)

That said. If I were to put EPL in a deathmatch against another Oprah-approved book, I'd put it on equal footing with yet another memoir about a selfish, broken-hearted, well-to-do American who chucked everything to travel the world and find one's self in the process. In other words...

I'll admit, I read Honeymoon with my Brother before I read EPL because I was aware of the inevitable Liz Gilbert backlash. (And also because I found a harcover copy from a neighbor's give-away stash while waiting for the Gilbert book to arrive from Amazon.) I'll also admit that Franz Wisner's writing doesn't exactly compare to Liz Gilbert's, especially when you consider that Gilbert is a professional, published writer with years of experience in the book business, and Honeymoon was cobbled together from a series of emails that Franz and Kurt Wisner sent to their (equally powerful and well-connected) friends during their ongoing trips all over the world.

The similarities are striking. Gilbert embarked on her "I, I, I" journey after a wrenching divorce and subsequently wrenching rebound romance; Wisner embarked on his year-long journey with his brother after his fiancee called off the wedding and left him clutching a non-refundable trip to Costa Rica. Both of them did end up in Indonesia at one point; in fact, both of them ended up traveling to both Bali and Gili Meno. Both of them supported themselves with visits to friends-of-friends, unexpected financial support, and the joy that comes with new experiences. Both of them even ended up with Brazilian paramours at some point of their journey. Both of them ended their journeys with new relationships, a new-found sense of self -- and the kind of exposure that any writer would kill for, starting with guest appearances on Oprah and the inevitable movie adaptation development deal.

And, look, both of them even have lovely meditations on the Brazilian Portuguese language!

Gilbert:

In bed he slips into adoring me in Portuguese, so I have graduated from being his "lovely little darling" to being his queridinha. (Literal translation: "lovely little darling.") I've been too lazy here in Bali to try to learn Indonesian or Balinese, but suddenly Portuguese is coming easy to me. Of course I'm learning the pillow talk, but that's a fine use of Portuguese.

Wisner:

"We loved Pau de Acucar," I said, pronouncing it as "pow day a-Sue-car." "Took the tram up there yesterday afternoon for the sunset. Beautiful, just beautiful, Pau de Acucar."

Claudia began to chuckle, prompting Deborah to shoot her a glance [...]
Her father grabbed his plate and started back to the kitchen. I thought I heard him laugh as well. I know I heard Claudia giggle some more. Ana Carolina, too. Deborah grabbed my arm, pulling my head below table level for an emergency conference.

"Do you know what you're saying?" she whispered. "You're telling my parents that you think your penis is stunning."

"What did I say?"

"You said pau instead of pao. Pao means bread. Pau means penis."

"So Pau de Acucar means sugar penis? I've been raving about my sugar penis?"

Portuguese pillow talk aside, it's not like either author is recommending that you should do as they have written, almost to the very letter. (Especially not the Wisners, whose unwise purchase of a Saab figures prominently in their adventure throughout Eastern Europe.) If you ask me, I'd rather watch the movie adaptation of Honeymoon than EPL - but only because I thought that Wisner's narrative lends itself more easily to a screenplay*, whereas Gilbert's is so rich and befitting of her literary experience that I'd hate to see people like Felipe or Richard from Texas get retooled as mere back-up characters next to Julia Roberts-as-Liz.


I also think that Wisner also has a slight edge because he doesn't even pretend to be anywhere near enlightened about the journey he has taken; he does acknowledge that he wants no pity or sympathy from the dear reader for anything that he has gone through. He doesn't even pretend that his breakup has changed his view of women and relationships, either - as can be seen in the sex scenes strewn around the book involving the women he meets up with in his travels, and the (admittedly) bittersweet nostalgia he held for his ex.

Readers who were worn down by Gilbert's insistent chorus of "this trip is for meeeeee" may actually find some solace in Wisner's take on family values; aside from the titular brother and the friends they encounter along the way, there's also the presence of the Wisners' grandmother-figure LaRue, whose loving relationship with the boys provide a much-needed contrast to their bumbling adventures. Perhaps, then, it won't come as a surprise that Wisner's story does not have the stereotypical Hollywood-style happy ending, especially when you consider that the woman who does become Mrs. Franz Wisner doesn't even show up in the book at all.


This isn't to say that I'd recommend one over the other; again, while I think that EPL is better-written and more contemplative, Honeymoon still stands as a solid travelogue, and Wisner's lack of polish as a writer actually complements the book. What I'd recommend, then, is to do as I have done: read both books, back to back, as a "double feature" of sorts. Treat both books as two halves of the same universal story, and then use them as an inspiration for your own travel plans.

++++

*Also because, as I have mentioned in Domesticity, I already have some casting ideas in my head: As much as I would kill to see Paul Rudd and Peter Sarsgaard redeem their careers as the Brothers Wisner, I won't mind at all if Hollywood went the obvious route and cast George Clooney and Aaron Eckhart instead.

Self-Help Smackdown: "The Secret" vs. "Eat Pray Love"

There are a lot of common points between the "love yourself" blockbusters "The Secret" and "Eat Pray Love" (from here on, shortened to EPL...which I know, makes it sound like a pregnancy test...but where's your brain going, eh?). Both are written by women on the verge - or after - a nervous breakdown, have tons of quotable meditations on life...and probably are on your shelf courtesy of a recent "convert" to their maxims. Would-be writers drool over the sales figures both books have bagged and the Oprah accolades that have followed. There's something to be said about coping with personal tragedy by looking outward - and no doubt, both books, to a receptive mind, do provide some effective points on how we can all become shiny happy people. But which one would win a self-help smackdown here on NBLB? How does the Universe-as-genie-in-a-bottle (cue vintage Aguilera track) fares against a proactive traveling yogi with a big appetite?

Rhonda Byrne, an Australian producer, kicked it off with The Secret documentary, a video now passed on via YouTube and recommended on Netflix faster than you can put up your own visualization board. That video made up mainly of talking heads involved in "life coaching" professions (which include a slew of earnest philosophers, the author of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books, a feng shui specialist, a dreadlocked pastor and some very wacked out quantum physicists) soon made its way in paper form, via the transcribed and annotated "Secret" book. Meanwhile, in EPL, we're all shown how heaven hath no joy more than a woman who can wield a pen and a passport simultaneously. Technically, EPL is a memoir with lots of interesting observations of life in Italy, India and Indonesia...but as" One Woman's Search for Everything," it also has lots of "true dat!" moments sure to make you want to eat pasta, do yoga and buy a Balinese woman a house to improve your lot in life.

I tend to group self-help books into two categories: those that set off my bullshit meter and make me laugh all the way in the opposite direction (this usually happens from the cover, which is why self-help is one section my browsing shadow rarely darkens)...and those that set off my bullshit meter, but somehow titillate my curiosity. Now "The Secret," to be honest, fell in the first category. From the mystical red seal on the covers, to the slew of quotes between short explanations...it rang my New Age kooky bell loud and clear. It took a lazy afternoon with my parents and a sheer lack of anything else to do, to get me to watch The Secret video. And...despite the cheesy as heck re-enactments (Um...men in togas? Cardinal Richelieu insinuation? And ...Byrne throwing her head back like Milla in the final scenes of The Fifth Element...wot?!?) and my giggling every time the dreadlocked pastor showed up on camera, the messages behind the odd images did, by Jove, make sense. So now I own the book, and while it's still quite a swallow of quotes and at-times outrageous claims, I'd keep it handy for those days when you feel a little blue. But it was the VIDEO that spawned the book purchase, mind you - if I were to base this book procurement on writing...I'd laugh my way back home.

Gilbert's travel therapy EPL, on the other hand, is immensely readable, first-person narrative in the hands of a capable writer who clearly was determined to feel better - in any time zone. Her journey from post-divorce depression to (spoiler alert!) finding an older Latin lover in Bali after living in an ashram seems like "Under The Tuscan Sun" with a whiff of patchouli. Her Italy section, filled with hedonistic descriptions of food, wine and good-looking Italians conversing in their poetic language, was my favorite part of her journey of self-discovery. After Italy, however, the book took a more spiritual - and gradually more serious - turn. India's ashram experience brought forth perhaps the book's most memorable character: the no-nonsense Texan yogi Richard who didn't mince words about his impressions of the extreme lifestyle, Gilbert's appetite (he called her "Groceries"), and yes...that quote: "mosquitoes so big, they could rape a chicken." Thank goodness for Richard - because at that point, after the requisite first encounters, Gilbert sounded more and more like the Architect from The Matrix.

If "The Secret" had that "Universe as genie" ridiculous moment, Gilbert's guru dreams and blue light special meditations made me want to ask her if she could PRETTY PLEASE talk about pasta again. By the time we reach Bali, it seems Liz doesn't even need the medicine man she befriends - he needs her. It becomes too neat - in this world where our books about self-discovery must have a certain messiness to be probable - girl gets divorce, goes traveling, gets her spiritual groove on, and meets cute older (balding?) dude. Maybe there's a bit of Schadenfreude seeping through these sentences as well. And maybe if we did have her kind of budget, this sort of spiritual discovery would be possible. In some way, this book is like a series of postcards, a "wish you were here," scrawled in pasta sauce and signed in the sand in Paradise.

So what's it going to be? Which feisty blonde wins in the self-help arena this time around? EPL, hands-down, is the better READ, but you could probably apply The Secret without getting shots or paying for airfare. Based on the messages, both call for a positive attitude to get over the rough spots. Each to his/her own, if you will.

If you go purely by best-selling stats (truth by numbers)...there's another feisty blonde that still kicks both their asses in terms of getting published after prevailing over adversity:


Harry Potter trumps yoga anytime. Accio!