Hard not to compare to Eat, Pray, Love. Even the negative reviews have the same flavor. Reading the one-star reviews were nearly as entertaining as reading the one-star reviews for Madame Bovary.

Memoir is supposed to be rooted in the point of view of the memoirist. The detached anonymity of an anthropological gaze isn’t neutral. It merely creates an Othering. It’s rather refreshing to see through Rita’s curious, vulnerable, and empathetic eyes.

The book is my consolation prize for not being able to adventure with her in real life.