Well, I just finished reading Martha Beck's 2005 book "Leaving the Saints."
Here in England the title reads "Leaving the Saints: One Child's Story of
Survival and Hope" rather than "Leaving the Saints: How I Lost the Mormons
and Found my Faith." It also has a picture of young child standing outside
a door rather than the angel Moroni. It was interesting reading. I
remember both loving and hating her book Expecting Adam. She had some
lovely things to say, but often her final conclusions were baffling. I
mean, it's like hearing someone say, "It is sunny outside, the kids are in
school and I am eating lunch. Therefore, as any intelligent person can see,
it is midnight." Huh? You had me up until your therefore. This book has a
similar "huh?" quality. She describes both things that I have experienced
and things that I have not. I should first clarify that I make no attempt
to pass any judgement on whether or not her story of abuse happened. I have
no idea. There's no way I could have any inkling on that part of her story.
I do have to say, though, that her descriptions of things that I *have*
experienced are so screwy that I am extremely skeptical when she starts
describing things that I *haven't* experienced. For instance, I have been
through the temple. I remember the newness, the awkwardness of putting on
items of clothing I have no experience with etc. I have even experienced
the "wrath" of an elderly temple worker. Reading her description of those
events as they happened to her, though, is like watching a video with the
focus out of whack. I can picture in my minds eye the things she is
describing but the way she describes them is not in any way how I understand
those things to be--like looking at a bright blue wall and having someone
tell you it is pink. Also, I have actually had my hair cut from long to
extremely (boy-cut) short in Provo, Utah and no one threatened to tattle on
me to my husband or father. And when I did a search on "Sonia Johnson" in
the BYU library I found her actual book resides there so it makes me a wee
bit skeptical about her claim that the BYU library had exact-o knifed her
every mention into oblivion. Guess the Conspiracy Theory Librarian who had
that job isn't so talented at this sort of thing.
I found the "huh?" factor to be quite strong every time she helpfully
explained how things "are" in Mormonism. For instance, when she talks about
going into emergency surgery and her mother balks at the idea of watching
her kids ("I have to make dinner for your father") she helpfully explains,
"In a Mormon context, what I'd just done was like calling the chef for the
White House and asking him to rustle up some chicken nuggets for my rug rats
while he was busy cooking for the president" (p 99). I'm not sure what sort
of alternate world she lives in, but that in no way is *my* Mormon context.
I guess I must have missed the Relief Society lesson that said that cooking
your husband's dinner was more important than helping your daughter (or
really *anyone*) who was having emergency surgery. It's just such a bizarre
characterization of Mormonism. Certainly there are people within (and,
actually, without) Mormonism for whom that would be true. But that isn't
true of Mormonism in general. The book, unfortunately, is filled with these
sorts of "helpful" summaries of what Mormonism "is" and what Mormons
"believe."
I feel for the author and the obvious mental suffering she has endured
through the years. I have no idea what may or may not be the source of that
suffering but there are enough holes in her book that I wouldn't look to her
as a trusted source of information.
Marianne Hales Harding
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