Yes, I really did read it, the whole damn thing. I'm in a business coaching group and one of the other members was raving about it, so I figured it was worth a try.It starts out with a very interesting perspective, looking at how our thought and behavior patterns around money are formed by our childhood experiences, particularly seeing what our parents did (which we later either replicate or rebel against). That gave me something to think about: my parents both grew up at the tail end of the depression and during the war, my dad effectively without a father and my mom without a mother. But for my mom this translated into an appreciation for the bohemian/artistic/intellectual life, where money isn't nearly as important as culture and experience, while for my dad it translated into a quiet struggle for recognition and security. Needless to say, their marriage didn't last. But I'd never before thought about how closely that must've been related to their different views about money and success.For myself, I've always seen wealth as an infallible correlate of bad taste, stupidity, and rudeness: the more money someone has, the less likely they are to be someone I'll enjoy spending time with. So it's kinda no surprise that I'm not exactly financially secure, let alone well-off, myself—and the point where I identified that was the book's climax, as far as I'm concerned.After that, it devolves into a series of success tips, affirmations, and declarations which sidestep the moral contradictions of capitalism and teach you that the key is simply to welcome wealth into your life. There are certainly some interesting thoughts along the way, but it gets a little tiresome to hear nothing but cheerleading for "success" in the form of nothing but money. I'm sure someone's developed a version of this pep talk which speaks the languages of anarchism, socialism, and communalism. This version, though, which assumes your heroes include Donald Trump and Jack Welch, is not a book for me.