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Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

The charges: self-indulgence, cloying sentimentality

Break-ups are horrible. There’s no two ways about it. Sadly, not all of us have benevolent publishers to send us off on a global jaunt to inflict our angst on the unfortunate residents of countries whose names happen to begin with “I.” (Although, judging by the appearance of “EAT PRAY LEAVE” signs in Bali of late, there are more Gilbert-esque types out there than we might like to imagine.)