Ariel Gore writes through the pain of her mother’s death
Appeared in The Oregonian, February 25, 2014.
If Cheryl Strayed’s Wild was a grungier version of that original 21st century woman’s-quest-for-self-actualization-in-far-off places, Eat, Pray, Love (with less cash, more blisters), then Ariel Gore’s The End of Eve is a more Portland version of Wild (more tattoos; road trips in trailers; a cornucopia of naturopaths, hipsters, even a feminist boyfriend with a PhD in Anais Nin).
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