Ioga [Yoga]

I’ll admit, I approached *Ioga* with skepticism—another white guy writing about finding himself through yoga? But Carrère dismantles that trope in the first 20 minutes. This isn’t *Eat, Pray, Love*; it’s a raw, often uncomfortable dive into the gap between aspiration and reality. The audiobook’s strength lies in Carrère’s refusal to romanticize his journey. One minute, he’s mocking his own pretensions at a Vipassana retreat; the next, he’s spiraling into a depression so visceral it’s hard to listen to. Spencer Toth’s narration is a masterclass in tone—his delivery is wry when Carrère’s being self-mocking, but he never undercuts the moments of genuine despair. That said, the pacing can feel uneven; the digressions into terrorism (yes, really) and Carrère’s personal dramas sometimes clash tonally, leaving the listener whiplashed. What saves it is the humor. Carrère’s ability to laugh at his own hypocrisy—like his irritation with a snoring meditator while *he’s* supposed to be cultivating compassion—makes the heavier sections bearable. The production is clean, though I wished for more dynamic range in Toth’s performance during the book’s quieter, more introspective passages. Still, this is an audiobook that lingers, not because it offers answers, but because it asks the right questions: Can you ever truly escape yourself? And if not, is it even worth trying? For fans of David Sedaris’ confessional style or Karl Ove Knausgård’s brutal honesty, *Ioga* is a standout—flawed, but fascinating.