Let’s start with the obvious: the book’s philosophical message has all the substance of a motivational cat poster. It’s a loose collection of ersatz axioms that are intended to sound profound, but are really just insubstantial fluff that cannot survive thirty seconds of serious examination. The essential ingredients are fate, theism, and optimism laced together with new age mysticism.
The regressive portrayal of women is irritating, but the rest of the book was so inane I barely had the energy to be annoyed by it.
Above all: the writing is terrible. Be prepared to sigh tiredly, again and again, as the author eschews all subtlety or nuance, and capitalizes every Important Concept to help you achieve Deep Understanding. There are no characters in this book, only wooden mouthpieces for would-be revelation.
It’s essentially a motivational self-help book with a fairy tale vibe. Fine if you want that, but I think people dislike the book so intensely because they’re expecting literature and they get…that.
Let’s start with the obvious: the book’s philosophical message has all the substance of a motivational cat poster. It’s a loose collection of ersatz axioms that are intended to sound profound, but are really just insubstantial fluff that cannot survive thirty seconds of serious examination. The essential ingredients are fate, theism, and optimism laced together with new age mysticism.
The regressive portrayal of women is irritating, but the rest of the book was so inane I barely had the energy to be annoyed by it.
Above all: the writing is terrible. Be prepared to sigh tiredly, again and again, as the author eschews all subtlety or nuance, and capitalizes every Important Concept to help you achieve Deep Understanding. There are no characters in this book, only wooden mouthpieces for would-be revelation.
It’s essentially a motivational self-help book with a fairy tale vibe. Fine if you want that, but I think people dislike the book so intensely because they’re expecting literature and they get…that.