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Personally, I found it interesting and revealing. No matter where she went, or what she was doing, or how much her friends cared about her, she still had those same old symptoms. That's clinical depression as opposed to someone who is in a difficult situation and therefore feeling lousy.
She needs to make this abundantly clear, because the final point, and the justification for her book's title, depends on the reader understanding the depth and breadth of her depression, and the etiology of it-- or lack of a clear cause, if that is a better way to put it. Wurtzel is not unhappy because her parents are divorcing, or because she was forced to go summer after summer to camps she hated, or because she disliked her afterschool program, or because high school was difficult for her academically (it wasn't). She's just depressed because there's something about Elizabeth Wurtzel that is bound to be depressed.
This leads into her late stated thesis: Prozac, and drugs like it are the Philosopher's Stone for people with this kind of ontological depression. But everyone seems to be taking something for the mildest and most transient of melancholias. Prozac has almost become a by-word for something doctors throw at hypochondriacs to make them go away.
So the same drug that saved Wurtzel's life was becoming something that cheapened her real disease, and caused people to whisper "she really could just shake it off, but she's taking the easy way out.
... Read more ›Depressed? Yes.
Unlucky? Yes.
Utterly inconsolable? Yes.
Self-centered? YES!
I would like to start off with one positive thought: Elizabeth Wurtzel had excellent qualifications for writing this book, because she appears to have been an extremely depressed. Outside of this, I have nothing good to say about the book.
The title promises a book with highly insightful things to say about depression (specifically, the experience of being depressed in America and all that it entails), but that's not what you'll find between the tortured-looking girl on the front cover, and several quotes from fashion magazines on the back. Instead, you will hear the pseudo-profound rantings of an uneducated girl who is eager to blame nearly all of her problems on her circumstances and the people in her life. I will acknowledge that her upbringing was not exactly first-rate, but it was not HORRIBLE by any means. Wurtzel makes her lower-middle-class, one-parent household seem like some version of hell... And she also implies that if only she had had more money and parents who loved eachother, she could have had a better life. Having grown up gifted and manic-depressive with two very wealthy, loving parents, I have come to understand that sometimes we need to take responsibility for our own healing; Wurtzel has either not realized that or she refuses to accept it, as evidenced by her constant whining about circumstances.
Wurtzel's endless complaining gives the book a tone of unbearable self-indulgence... somewhat akin to the child on the playground who refused to share his toys. The word "I" becomes nearly as imporant as in Ayn Rand's novel, ANTHEM. One word: EGO.
All of this is topped off by Wurtzel's hideous writing style, but I won't bother to go into that.
... Read more ›