So, I knew going in that this book was going to be a hybrid of a memoir about the authors experience in college of developing an undiagnosed neurological disorder, and an investigation into fruitarian eating, but I wasn’t expecting the large amount of history that was also present. In general, I did enjoy the read, but I did have some struggles with the structure, and in the end felt that the author was a little too permissive of the difficult topics of restricted eating and wellness spaces on social media.
I think the writing was best in the memoir portion. The author clearly had time to be thoroughly introspective about her experience, and was able to very thoughtfully tease out her overlapping and complicated emotions. The beginning didn’t quite reach me as so much of the author’s identity was wrapped up in her athleticism, which I personally can’t connect with. But as the book went on the struggles with reconnecting with your disabled body and trying to find control without self harm became really engaging. Personally, the memoir portion wasn’t why I picked up the book, but the author did win me over and I became pretty invested in her story.
I didn’t realize how much time was going to be spent on the history of vegetarian, vegan, and fruitarian diets and honestly, I thought the section was a little weak. I don’t know enough about the topic at hand to tell if any of the actual information was wrong, but the author seemed to spend a lot of time speculating on the interior emotional lives of the people she was discussing and that tends to be a pet peeve of mine. Alongside such a personal narrative, filled with a lot of introspection, it kind of felt like the author was projecting onto these historical figures.
The portion of the book spent on Freelee and Durianrider were the closest to what I was expecting when I picked up the book. I am very interested in investigations into the predatory nature of wellness culture, especially as it spreads through social media and conspicuous consumption, so this part was very engaging. Parts of it did come across as a lot more gossipy than investigatory, but I think that’s more reflective of the nature of the community than any fault of the author. I was honestly pretty surprised that it felt like the author didn’t go hard enough on Freelee and Durianrider. She mentions that their social media presence was borderline or a little fatphobic, which was a dramatic understatement given the upsetting and cruel anti-fat hatred that she had already quoted them on and the very nature of the weight loss portion of the diet.
I think the thing that I kept coming back to was a disconnect between these three different parts of the book. At the beginning especially they were very jarring as there didn’t seem to be a lot of overlap between the author’s neurological symptoms and traumatic college experience and 19th century diet “pioneers”. I was honestly flabbergasted when the author revealed that she never actually participated in the fruitarian diet, and only attempted it for one day and pretty halfheartedly. I am, of course, glad that the author’s experience with disordered eating wasn’t worse than what she already described, but I was left feeling kinda like the author had lost a credential. I did eventually come around to feeling invested about the memoir portion, but by the end of the book, I’m not sure its existence ever felt truly justified. I’m a little suspicious that the personal memoir and the investigation of the high carb, incredibly restrictive vegan diet should’ve been two separate books and I probably only would’ve picked up the second one.
Other folks might not be as bothered by the mixed genre of this book. I will fully admit that memoir and educational nonfiction hybrids are not my favorite. And the memoir writing was strong. But I wish the whole book had come down harder on wellness culture and its dangers and spent a little less time in the author’s head or speculating on the interior lives of people who were either long dead or declined to be interviewed.