I found it a mostly vapid read that promotes narcissism and consumerism as a means to spirituality. I renamed it "Gripe, Brag, F***" and found Gilbert's obsession with male approval a huge turn-off, but not nearly as horrendous as her Clueless Privileged White Woman treatment of her Balinese "friends." I'm depressed and appalled by the popularity of this book, but not surprised. I find Elizabeth Gilbert a truly repellent guru for our time: her blatant theft of popular Jungian ideas re-packaged as original speeches on finding one's true work is just as cringe-inducing as her memoir. What I'd LOVE to read is a memoir by her first husband!
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