A couple years ago, a childhood friend who lives in New Delhi, handed me The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari by Robin Sharma—a self-help book on spirituality and "eastern wisdom", which, curiously, was all the rage in Indian yuppie circles. At first, I attributed this to pride in the author's Indian roots and his huge (financial) success in America.
Readers of this blog will know that I'm deeply suspicious of this genre, replete as it is with New Age charlatans preying on people's angst and insecurities. Still, due to my friend's gushing praise and insistence, I began reading the book. I recall it now as a struggle on every page and often thinking of Dorothy Parker's words from long ago: this is not a book to be tossed aside lightly; it should be thrown with great force. I finally caved in midway, putting her words into action. It dawned on me that the book's transnational appeal lay in its very fatuousness (it has been published in 30+ countries, becoming a huge seller in the US, Israel, India, Mexico, and Canada, but apparently not in Europe).
I then read its customer reviews on Amazon (I often scan the lowest ratings first for critiques that might disqualify a book from my reading list). Mine was of course the minority reaction, but it was there alright. One person couldn't even get past the title—what's so great about selling one's Ferrari, he asked? Why did the monk not give it away? But it was the hilariously scathing review below that most delighted me.
I was recommended this book because I work too much. Every page that I managed to get through was painful. This book is the saddest and most excruciating way to introduce Buddhist philosophy. It is a "Fable" with a capital "F". Nothing in the book is true. If something in the book has been based on a true concept it has been so badly distorted by this text that it is no longer even close. To summarize for those that don't need the rest of the review to know that this is a book to skip, here is a banal platitude from the book that forced me to emit an audible groan while I was reading it: "Your `I can' is greater than your IQ"
It starts out with this absolute fat jackass womanizing alcoholic unscrupulous lawyer, that would essentially be better off dead, and that I personally hated to read about, and would hate to know, and wouldn't talk to except to make rude noises at if I did know him because I was related to him or something. You are then told that he is basically a good person but unless your "I can" is greater than your "IQ" you aren't fooled even for a second. Then he has a heart attack and goes to India and meets a guru, and turns into this soft and supple bi-curious sounding freak that wears long red robes and pours tea all over a former colleagues wife's Persian rug to illustrate concepts that aren't really true. In essence he's an even bigger jerk that is now ultra self-important because he's this transformed guru come back to bring enlightenment to all the normal people that weren't alcoholic womanizing hoodlums to begin with.
I understand that the author is merely creating a construct in order to peddle his psuedo-Buddhist philosophy, but he couldn't have chosen less likable characters, or more stupid illustrations for his concepts. While reading the book you get the feeling he spent a million years trying to come up with analogies for his concepts and then finally gave up and put something that didn't make sense, leaving you to shake your head and go... "Couldn't he have gotten a classroom of second graders to brainstorm something that was at least stupid in an interesting way?" Sharma (the author) has to be the least creative man ever to exist. I would be shocked if the book was even his idea. While reading it, I seriously got the feeling that he had watched an infommercial on how to write a book for fun and profit, and that the idea for this book came in his information packet.
Other than being evisceratingly boring and stupid this book makes a few good points. Actually the book does not specifically make any good points. It makes wild, ridiculous, impractical, idiotic points that may touch upon elements that the reader could formulate a good idea from. However these good points are not particularly profound. It is the same wisdom that has been available to you since grade-school. Maybe if you are such a louse that everyone including yourself hates you, and your family wishes you were dead, it would be good for you to hear them again.
The jerk in this book merely traded one Ferrari for another, he is still an egoist, only now he is some sort of religious padre, begging you to worship his smooth supple skin (referenced on every page of the book). His identity is still his work. Only before he was despicable in a suit, and now he should be selling juicers on late night wearing hooded robes, as he pours smoothie all over the before-people to illustrate that their bodies can't accept anymore nutrients until they give up the nutrients that they already have.
Clearly, not many are deterred by such reviews. The book's success has helped Sharma, an ex-lawyer himself, launch a business giving high-energy motivational talks to corporate America (watch samples; know any monks who do this for a living?). He has also written sequels like Family Wisdom from The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari; Leadership Wisdom from The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari; Discover Your Destiny With The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari; Megaliving!: 30 Days to a Perfect Life; The Saint, the Surfer and the CEO; Who Will Cry When You Die?; etc.
Thank you so much for this. I work for an indian doctor who is obsessed with this douchebag. In fact, I even googled, "robin sharma is a douchebag charlatan" and this was the second article that popped up. Every day, I tend to my boss's social media to help her pursuit of becoming an influencer. Her intentions are truly to be helpful, but I feel her decisions are sorely disrupted by the other influencers out there flaunting their expertise in selling/marketing...when really they are just the puppet for their machine...of which they have hired teams to be. So under this disillusionment that douchebag 'influencers' wield, she has me doing all the work, often generating all her ideas from him.
I wish I could tell her how terrible this book, and his "brand" of ideas really are. They perpetuate the idea that we aren't living it 'right' if we aren't living it like them, as if he holds all the answers. I got three pages in the book and felt vomit rising in my throat. Could my smart boss really have fallen for this? Not to mention, he now sells tickets to see him for $10k! The writing is worse than a third-graders and he severely lacks imagination. He is a living Viagra commercial who can't accept his phase of life and the fact that underneath the facade, he could be a generally good person, if he could only let go of his douchebaggery. No, he clings too hard to that. I am always suspicious when I see older men wearing douchey flatbill hats.
Posted by: kara | May 28, 2020 at 10:10 PM
Oh you have a tough job, Kara. I offer you my solidarity in your fight against this douchebag and others of his ilk. :)
Posted by: Namit | May 28, 2020 at 10:38 PM