Some Reader Response

For me this section of the reading was loaded with little pearls. She began with a lovely deconstruction of her feelings about God/Spirit/Jesus. Her take on spirituality really jives with mine--traditional and literal illustrations fail in my eyes, but a more metaphysical, representative interpretation (as she explores) has merit. Now that I've returned to the Bible belt that personifies a large portion of So Cal, I'm reminded of how fervently much of America wants religion enacted in our political system--which most Europeans have learned (from things like the Dark Ages, the Spanish Inquisition, and periodic witch-burning hysterias) should remain as individual choice, rather than mandated by law. Thus, and I've seen this first-hand, there is a compartmentalization of behavior that could be perceived as duality at best. So in SEXY Rome, we have the Vatican, which Luca tells us is not Rome at all, but virtually another country. The Vatican is entirely another topic--and I'm surprised she didn't tackle it in E,P, L, but I bet she weighed that possible chapter against massive Catholic protest.

So, the food in Italy as described by Gilbert--it's surely another character in this section. I have been lucky enough to have shared her experience during my month in the country, and this woman is not exaggerating. Her tantalizing descriptions in the memoir convinced me to spend $5.99 for a tiny pint of pistachio gelato at Henry's the other day--it was divine, BTW! I remember the fried broccoli flowers, why aren't these an option instead of French fries here, trust me, they are delicious. The food moments make me think of another book I love, Laura Escoval's Like Water for Chocolate, where the connection between appetite and pleasure is pivotal. And in Europe, particularly Italy, people take their time with this eating ritual. It was comical how I would eat as slowly as I thought humanly possible in Italy, and still Aaron and I would arrive last to a restaurant and leave first. I noticed people watching us leave in relative disgust. I can't help it, it's my Lutheran half--although we were on a sabbatical lingering, or interpreting ingestion as an art, wars with my utilitarian framework. Finally on the food, does anyone want to fly to Naples with me next week to find that pizzaria?!? My mouth waters as I recall her description. Randine, don't EVEN let a Neopolitan scare you, the Croatians/Czechs/Slovenians were far more sinister in my book. Italians are like the snappy terriers who bark and fuss and pee all around their property line, but the Eastern Euros are the pit bulls that stare you in the eye and clamp down without a sound.

Has anyone else every been accused of looking like their boyfriends/mates? I have not. No one has ever suggested this to me, and I'm glad. But I've seen it happen. Usually in extremely tight-knit relationships with tons of immersion, but no scope. I'm far too committed to my identity, although I did falter once. Still, thank God I did not ever look like my obsession. I watched a video lecture of Elizabeth Gilbert, and it surprises me that she was this woman. This made me wonder if she viewed herself objectively, which of course reminded me that not only is this impossible, but the theory has been presented that there is no potential for written objectivity.

I realize I'm rambling and making this all my own. I'll offer up some opportunity for discussion questions in addition to the few I buried in the blather above--choose to answer what you feel like answering:

1. Favorite food moment so far.
2. What aspects of their personality do you feel were revealed in their cursing vocabulary at the soccer game?
3. Did you love or disdain the Italian approach to bureaucratic malaise? (i.e. the postal service, strikes)
4. Should we try to start a trend of bakery/espresso bars (no beer) for sports fans? As a side note, after the Italians won the world cup while I was in Rome in 2006, there was plenty of bar activity--and I didn't notice a single open bakery that was overflowing with patronage.
5. I loved the discussion of sadness as a place (in English vernacular), as opposed to sadness being experienced on one's skin (in Italian). How would you describe your sadness (would it be a dog snapping at your heels, or water pouring over your head, etc.)?
6. Liz's sister Catherine sounds like a hoot. I felt she was more like me. Is there a character in the story, aside from Liz, who resonates with you?

There are so many elegant turns of phrase in this book that. I was taken by her description of her mother as "able to cheerfully plant gardens of daisies among the inexplicable stone walls of silence that my dad sometimes builds up around himself." I understand that sort of existence, but I've never been a good gardener. My mother came from that time and place, but she didn't effectively hide her misery (I'm so glad I don't have daughters who could say something like that about me) ... did you feel your mothers were happy in their marriages?

I'll stop here because this just might be the world's longest blog post.

P.S. I'm not going to lie to you, it was a HUGE relief for me to hear Elizabeth Gilbert reveal the "most improved" status of the Italian male. I was 44 when I went there, and almost humiliated when no one grabbed my bottom! ;-)

Rome, Gelato, Passionate Cursing and Il bel far niente!

Hi All! It's late and I should have posted this by Tuesday at the latest, but as so often is my reality, I am remiss.

So for this weekend sometime, please try to read up to Chapter 34 (pg. 104). I'm really starting to enjoy the book and have slid into the groove of the author's personality and experiences. Hope you're liking it, too.

Since week 1, we appear to have lost Sarah and Carol, but have gained Vikki McGuire, and hopefully Holly's sister-in-law Laurie! My friend Stephanie indicated that she might join, too. Randine has been reading and will be weighing in soon I'm sure.

If anyone wants to start a discussion post, please e-mail me and I'll give you my sign-in and password so that you can initiate a post/thread. Otherwise feel free to stick a comment in anywhere--we'll find it! ;-) Happy reading trails to you all.

P.S. If, as Nancy pointed out, Luca Spaghetti is a substitute name, what do you think his real name might have been?

And Away We Go ... (slight spoilers up to page 30)

It's official--I've started reading, have you? I admit I knew next to nothing about this book, except it was a bestseller, was made into a movie, and takes place in several countries. I may not have selected it had I realized it was a memoir, as I've read a number of them lately (3 Cups of Tea, The Liar's Club, Reading Lolita in Tehran).

So here we have a memoir. Do you generally enjoy the memoir format? I'm iffy on them--but when I was actively writing, almost all my stories were memoir, or slightly ficitionalized memoir. I suppose this indicates I'm drawn to the style.

At this point I am enjoying the author's conversational, current, and fully-disclosing style of writing. I took exception with her need to protect the reasons for the demise of her first marriage. I guess in order for me to empathize with her state of mind, I would have liked to understand why she was consistently on the floor crying (she spends a lot of time huddled on floors). So, I was left cold as she attempted to portray herself as devastated and tortured, when it felt self-inflicted--which was further suggested by her relationship with David. One of the things I remember in my creative non-fiction courses, was this idea that we need to be disassociated from ourselves in order to connect our story to the reader. I haven't felt that with this writer, in fact she feels fully subjective ... but so far in a good way.

I'll keep reading and stop musing now.