Eat Pray Love: Caroline Overington, you went too far
April 23rd 2010 07:22
In her column yesterday in The Australian, Overington was witty and compelling with a satirical look at the publishing phenomenon Eat Pray Love, and the book's author, Elizabeth Gilbert.
Satire is a versatile tool. It can be gentle, humorous or self-deprecating. And it can be harsh. Overington's column yesterday was of the latter intent.
Eat Pray Love, as Overington also notes, has sold 11 million copies worldwide. It has moved and motivated many people, it has inspired some, and it is being made into a film starring Julia Roberts.
That, however, is not the way Overington sees it. The book's success, she suggests, is because it is so "nauseating" that the women — only women, she claims — who read it proclaim it so thoroughly nauseating that they thereby encourage all their friends to go out and buy it too.
Why they wouldn't just borrow it from their queasy friend and endure just one or two pages of nausea is not made clear.
Overington sneers at Gilbert's marriage break-down, glosses over a food discovery journey to Italy, sneers at her spiritual discovery journey to India, and sneers again at Gilbert finding love in Indonesia.
It is much easier for reviewers to disparage than to compliment. Satire, irony and sarcasm don't lend themselves to praise. It's so easy to sound smart when sneering, especially with the skill that Overington brings to the task.
It breaks down, however, if the criticism lacks factual support, logic or truth. Or, in this case, all three.
Let's start by correcting two errors of fact: I loved the book, and I'm a bloke.
I enjoyed the book on two levels. Firstly, it talks informatively about three aspects of life on which we all spend time and energy. Good food is one of the world's most popular subjects, and Gilbert's journey back to the Italy of her forebears is a joyous romp. Spirituality comes more naturally, or more urgently, to some than others, but few of us have not wondered at times what answers it might hold for us. And love, especially when it is starting, is one of the more potent forces in the known universe.
The second level on which I enjoyed Eat Pray Love is the quality of the writing. Like Jon Krakauer writing about mountains, like Simon Singh writing about mathematics, and like Cecil Purdy writing about chess, Gilbert's lessons in life are clear, insightful, witty and charming. The writing flows like chocolate topping. And on more pages than not, she will deliver a phrase or image crafted in words of pure gold. As with one of Kathy Lette's peerless puns, I often wanted to stand and applaud.
Caroline Overington saw none of that. She did not, or could not, identify with the struggles of a young woman to come to terms with love gone awry, with the exuberant discovery of Italian ebullience, with profound questions about things we can't see, and about the pain and joy of new love.
Most of all, for me, Overington's column was embarrassing because of the fact that Gilbert is in Australia at the moment as the "top draw", to use Overington's words, at the Sydney Writers' Festival. Gilbert deserves much better than this poor welcome to Australia. Hopefully she will see the Overington column for what is was, a cheap shot which should have carried the heading Bitch Spleen Spite.
Elizabeth Gilbert
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