What would Elizabeth Gilbert think of "The Bachelor"?

In my last post I didn’t reveal anything about Elizabeth Gilbert’s attitude toward marriage other than that she has strong feelings and is “reluctant” about marrying Felipe. Felipe feels the same way, since they both endured painful divorces. Although they care deeply about each other and agreed to be monogamous, they didn’t think it would be necessary to enter into another marriage. Alas, this attitude changed dramatically when Felipe, not a U.S. citizen, was barred from the United States after one too many extended visits to the country.

One reason Gilbert feels queasy about marriage is that she has seen the great sacrifices that many women, including her mother and grandmother, make for marriage. She devotes a large chunk of her book to this topic. Since I finished reading Committed, I’ve been hearing about this season of “The Bachelor”. I’ve been following with mild interest because I worked at a summer camp a few years ago with Ali, one of the contestants. I learned today that Ali, who had made it to the final four, had to make a difficult decision at the end of last night’s episode – stay on the show and risk losing her job as an advertising account manager or return to her job and give up her opportunity to “win” love. She chose work.

I imagine that Gilbert must disapprove of this TV show that chronicles the fierce and dramatic competition among a gaggle of beautiful ladies for the opportunity to marry one eligible bachelor. I’m surprised she didn’t include commentary about the show in her book. However, I know Gilbert would be cheering for Ali and her decision. I applaud her, too. You go, girl!

You have been warned: "Committed" not another "Eat, Pray, Love"

Committed, by Elizabeth Gilbert
Recommend: Yes
To whom: Devoted Gilbert fans, those with an interest in cultural studies, and those who are considering getting hitched soon
Why: This book is not for everyone, but it presents fascinating history about the institution of marriage. Not as fun as Eat, Pray, Love though.

Warning: Committed is not the sequel to Eat, Pray, Love, even though technically it is. Elizabeth Gilbert brings the reader up to date on her life with Felipe, introduced as her lover in Eat, Pray, Love, but unfortunately Gilbert’s follow-up book is not nearly as fun as the original. Gilbert is upfront about this in her introduction, explaining that she wrote her first draft trying to please every reader, but in the end she narrowed her intended audience down to her closest female friends. Committed is not a narrative story, but Gilbert’s exploration of marriage – what it means to the parties involved, and how the institution has evolved throughout the course of history and many cultures. At times the content is completely detached from Gilbert’s own life and reads as a rather dry historical account of marriage. Committed is still an enjoyable book, but it might disappoint those who expect another Eat, Pray, Love.

Even if you don’t agree with Gilbert’s strong feelings about marriage, her views on traditional gender roles and expectations about marriage are worth considering. There are also some delightful, humorous passages, reminiscent of Eat, Pray, Love, such as her description of her parents’ vegetable garden that is so divided that one would “practically need a United Nations peacekeeping force to understand my parents’ carefully partitioned spheres of horticultural influence” (222). Gilbert writes most vividly describing her travels with husband-to-be Felipe through Southeast Asia as they wait for the green light to return to the United States to (reluctantly) marry. Her fascinating first-hand accounts of her conversations with the Vietnamese Hmong and the Laotian Leu women should appeal to aficionados of cultural history.

Committed struck an unexpected chord with me. Gilbert believes that many American women become unhappy with their marriages because their expectations are too high and life is complicated by too many choices:

The problem, simply put, is that we cannot choose everything simultaneously. So we live in danger of becoming paralyzed by indecision, terrified that every choice might be the wrong choice. Equally disquieting are the times when we do make a choice, only to later feel as though we have murdered some other aspect of our being by settling on one single concrete decision. By choosing Door Number Three, we fear we have killed off a different – but equally critical – piece of our soul that could only have been made manifest by walking through Door Number One or Door Number Two… All these choices and all this longing can create a weird kind of haunting in our lives – as though the ghosts of all our other, unchosen, possibilities linger forever in a shadow world around us, continuously asking, “Are you certain this is what you really wanted? (45-46)

This passage spoke to me not because I'm thinking of marriage, but because I recently graduated from college and have been struggling to find the “right” career path. I cannot describe my own feelings about making career decisions more accurately than this. College taught me that the world is open to me, but I fear that deciding to pursue one thing will close the door permanently on other opportunities that perhaps would be better for me. Although this doesn’t help me make a decision, it helps to know that I am not alone in feeling this way.

This is Gilbert’s strength – her ability to express herself in a way to which readers can relate. At times while reading Eat, Pray, Love I wondered to myself: Why is her story important? Why should I care about this woman? Sure, the book is entertaining and at times laugh-out-loud hilarious, but I realize I am riveted to her writing because she strives to understand the human experience, and I sometimes discover my own imperfect self reflected in her books.