The Book of Mormon Girl: A Memoir of an American Faith

by Joanna Brooks

From her days of feeling like “a root beer among the Cokes”—Coca-Cola being a forbidden fruit for Mormon girls like her—Joanna Brooks always understood that being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints set her apart from others. But, in her eyes, that made her special; the devout LDS home she grew up in was filled with love, spirituality, and an emphasis on service. With Marie Osmond as her celebrity role model and plenty of Sunday School teachers to fill in the rest of the details, Joanna felt warmly embraced by the community that was such an integral part of her family. But as she grew older, Joanna began to wrestle with some tenets of her religion, including the Church’s stance on women’s rights and homosexuality. In 1993, when the Church excommunicated a group of feminists for speaking out about an LDS controversy, Joanna found herself searching for a way to live by the leadings of her heart and the faith she loved.

The Book of Mormon Girl is a story about leaving behind the innocence of childhood belief and embracing the complications and heartbreaks that come to every adult life of faith. Joanna’s journey through her faith explores a side of the religion that is rarely put on display: its humanity, its tenderness, its humor, its internal struggles. In Joanna’s hands, the everyday experience of being a Mormon—without polygamy, without fundamentalism—unfolds in fascinating detail. With its revelations about a faith so often misunderstood and characterized by secrecy, The Book of Mormon Girl is a welcome advocate and necessary guide.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Religion, Lds, Biography, Mormonism, Book Club

240 pages, Paperback

First published January 17, 2012

About the author

Joanna Brooks is a national voice on Mormon life and politics and an award-winning scholar of religion and American culture. She covers Mormonism, faith, and politics for ReligionDispatches.org and has been named one of “50 Politicos to Watch” by Politico.com.

A twenty-year veteran of the Mormon feminist and LGBT equality movements, Brooks grew up in a conservative Mormon home among the last great orange groves of Orange County, California. She attended Brigham Young University and received her Ph.D. from the University of California, Los Angeles.

Reviews

[Petra X · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was in two minds whether to write a review of this book or just to leave the notes that engendered such a discussion in the comments. They are encased in spoilers at the end now. The comments are quite good as one Mormon defended the Church's policy of considering supporters of equality for women as an excommunicable sin by discussing its irrelevance in her own life.

If this review looks like it goes on a bit too much (it does, more than a bit too, I know, mea culpa), then head on down to the last bit, the paragraph that starts with a * and if you know anyone that applies to please let me know in the comments. Jews please read that paragraph with chin propped on hand otherwise if it falls open you might catch flies and they aren't kosher.

The book details the author's childhood growing up in a home where Marie Osmond's Guide to beauty, health, and style seems more important a guide for girls than any other book, sacred or otherwise. The dominant theme might be such a scene as sitting on the sofa eating a (typical Mormon) dessert of prezels, Jello, Cool-Whip and sugar watching Little House on the Prairie, while Mom sits up late at night researching names of dead people to baptise into the Church so that they might... well not quite sure on that. This is not a review about Mormonism, but about the book.

Throughout this first, childhood, section and also the second, teenage and college years, there is a dominant theme of finding the right man to marry. This is tremendously important because a woman cannot get to the highest part of heaven unless she is married to a Mormon man in the Temple. Eternal life depends on a husband pulling his wife through the veil of this life, and life everlasting. And he doesn't have to.
Better do exactly what he wants.

There is discussion of polygamy (a practice that only ended for the mainstream Church when it became a condition of Statehood for Utah). The girls are taught that because there are more 'good' Mormon girls than boys, there will always be a shortage of husbands to take women into heaven, so that a good, believing girl, will not want to deprive another woman of the eternal life, and so will allow her husband to have more than one wife. So what are the boys up to that they are so naughty? Quite a clever justification for letting a man have a harem of some kind to bear his children, clean his home and warm his bed.

"The most important thing for a woman in this life is to be the wife of a worthy priesthood holder and the mother of his children." - Boyd K. Packer. 2/2/2012, LDS Worldwide Training Meeting

There was one 'training session' for girls that stood out. A rose was passed from hand to hand. At the end the moderator said what would you rather, the fresh, unsullied rose, or this faded, crumpled one that has been in so many hands? It is a sin for a girl to be touched, no one will want her, not even the boys her touched her and then called her slut 'a sullied rose'. In common with most other religions, it is her fault that she got so used. When men make the rules, men are not going to put blame on themsselves.

At college, although she is still looking for 'the one', examining each male that comes into her line of vision wondering if he is going to be her husband for all eternity and that they might one day aspire to their own world to run as gods with all the spirit children who were her real children on this earth. All children are spirits in heaven waiting for a body so it is a woman's duty to bear as many children as she can and to devote her life to looking after them and her husband. But the author falls in with the feminists and gays and understands that they aren't asking for heaven and earth, they just want the same rights and freedoms that straight men take for granted. And the gays would so like to marry.

One thing leads to another and as the Church raises millions to fight and defeat California's legalisation of gay marriage, she fights for it. She becomes involved in feminism and when six members of the Church - the women all feminists, the men all supporters of feminism and critical of the authoritarianism of the Church leaders - are excommunicated, much as she loves the Church in her heart, in her practice she moves away from it. She writes stories of her experiences and receives much hate mail but also positive letters from gays and feminists and their supporters.

She marries a secular Jew, raises her kids in two faiths and never comes to terms with the Church's denial of equality for women and non-tolerance of homosexuals. She doesn't get into abortion and only touches fairly briefly on the extreme racism of the Mormons until recently.

*There is only one bit of the book I HATED and thought this is absolute egregious anti-semitism, it is truly nasty. But I thought how can she be happily married to a Jewish guy and still believe this? Did he tell her it as a joke and hasn't had the heart to disabuse her of her serious take on it? Has she never met another Jew? In the Caribbean we get lots of Mormon missionaries. I had two in my shop a few years back. I said I was Jewish and one of them looked at me like he was going to feel my head for horns. He said I've never met a Jew before (in the tones of 'I've never seen a cockroach up that close before'). The other Mormon shut him up in a very embarrassed way and they left. Sure he has seen many Jews, but we haven't got horns, so you can't tell. I don't look like Hitler's and the Arabs' caricatures of Jews, I'm red-headed with green eyes and a rather ordinary nose. But I'm still one of them!

*This is what she writes (talking about her husband) going to some Mormon prayers with her and their children: He stifles his sneezing and itching whenever the subject of Jesus arises, because he, like most Jewish people, has inherited something of a Jesus allergy, developed collectively over the last two thousand years."

Well I don't know about you, but I've never read such unbelievable shite in my entire life. My preference in music at the moment is Gregorian chants and the religious Masses of the Congo and I swear, I swear to you that I don't take an antihistamine before playing it.

I feel like knocking the book down to minus 75 stars for that, but hey, hopefully it was just a joke, right?

These are the notes I wrote when I was reading it that engendered the very many comments below. I was sailing today trying to distract myself from the rough sea and high winds by reading this book. I got so involved I failed to notice a huge wave coming right at me, although everyone else did. It was like having a bucket of cold sea water flung at me. Someone gave me some paper towels so while I wiped my shades and generally fussed around, I failed to notice the second wave. And that did for the book. It's drying out now.

I did get to the tampon bit though. Very amusing. Perhaps the only amusing thing I've read in the book so far. Or at least the only intentionally amusing thing. The first chapters of the book concentrating rather a lot on people being decaffeinated, as in Marie Osmond's glowing noncaffeinated complexion, were very amusing.

Reading about how she married a Jewish guy and thinking that
I have Mormon friends, they are all far, far more exclusive than any of my Jewish family/friends. My Jewish ones think if you've found the right person and you marry them and they aren't Jewish, well, there you go, that's what happens. My Mormon ones are much, much more upset. I think it is because there isn't a Jewish heaven to get to and the Mormons would be condemning themselves irredeemably to a lesser eternal life with no possibility of promotion to godhood and their own planet to rule.

[Kip · Rating 4 out of 5]

I know that some of my Mormon friends would not like this memoir because it is unorthodox, because it sheds a light on our church and our culture that is sometimes critical (though there is great love as well), and because it is not (they would say) representative of typical Mormon experience (whatever that is). They would dispute many of the book's premises and conclusions. Nevertheless, I found this memoir to be moving and insightful. I don't always see things the same way Brooks does, but I admire her courage and her commitment to defend and live what she believes. I am inspired by her vision of Mormonism that is more inclusive, more forgiving, and more loving.

I was especially interested in the latter half of the memoir, where Brooks describes people and events in the 80s and 90s with which I am very familiar. I was at BYU at roughly the same time Brooks was, though I was a graduate student at the time. Many of the same people who influenced her influenced me as well. Many of the events that she struggled with, I struggled with. One big difference between us, however, is that Brooks responded more proactively. For better or worse, I chose to struggle more internally than publicly. What I, and apparently others, value about Brooks' account is that she helps us realize that we are not alone as we wrestle with the tensions that are likely part of any strong faith community--inclusion versus exclusion, faith versus doubt, orthodoxy versus unorthodoxy, individuality versus community, etc. Despite whatever we have in common or what differentiates us as individuals, it is comforting and illuminating to see how Brooks has navigated through her own journey thus far.

[Brent · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm a lifelong Mormon, straight, male, and not a feminist. Despite all that, I instantly liked Joanna Brooks after seeing her on "The Daily Show" with Jon Stewart and reading the introduction to The Book of Mormon Girl Stories from an American Faith. Her opening chapter, explaining much of what it means to grow up as a Latter-day Saint, resonated with me. What a lovely piece of prose.

There's a lot to like in this book: the prose, the chapter on Marie Osmond (so, so funny), all the seemingly odd things we do (or did) as Mormons (fixation with jello, dance festivals, food storage) the challenge to be more loving and tolerant of those who don't fit the typical Latter-day Saint mold, and a lot more.

Now, some kind criticism: I wish she would have focused a little more on her time at BYU...what were some other pivotal experiences that helped strengthen her feminism? Was it just meeting with her professors? Just wearing the peace sign pin? I would have really enjoyed reading more about her classes in the basements of BYU and what she learned about early Mormon women that stoked the feminist flame. Maybe more readers would align with her way of thinking if they had a little more context.

(This is just a nit-picky little thing...but) Do you think didn't have enough references to caffeine in the opening chapters? Holy moly. Relax, Joanna, relax.

I got the feeling that Joanna remains a Mormon more so out of devotion to her heritage than to her Savior. But maybe explaining what she believes about Jesus Christ wasn't really within the scope of her book, so I can forgive her for not including her testimony. (Although putting that in the book would have been nice, too.) I understand she's telling a story, and sometimes it's just too hard to wedge some parts of our life into that narrative.

I also got the feeling Joanna considers the LDS Church to be more akin to a social club instead of what most Latter-day Saints consider it to be: the restored Church of Jesus Christ. I agree with her when she says that Mormons must be more open, more loving, more tolerant, but I wish she understood that each one of us must conform to the doctrines and norms of the organization (in this case, the Church) we wish to belong to if we hope to fully participate within that organization. Agitating for change when none is forthcoming shows a fundamental lack of belief that the Church is led by inspired individuals. This is unfortunate. But perhaps Joanna is, for now, content to "agree to disagree" with Church policy, and perhaps she accepts the natural results from such a stance.

Overall, I liked this book. No matter who you are, you'll enjoy Joanna's writing, humor, humanity, and sincerity, even if you don't see eye to eye with her on everything.

[Deborah Markus · Rating 2 out of 5]

Are all autobiographies and memoirs now required to be vague? First Unorthodox, and now this. Both books were written by intelligent women who had something to say and then spent half the book refusing to say it.

Look: If I'm reading your story, it's because I want to hear your story. So tell it, already.

If you're a Mormon and a feminist, what does that mean to you? What does feminism mean in the context of Mormonism?

You mention that when you were growing up in the Mormon church, twelve-year-old boys got the priesthood and girls got a Marie Osmond beauty manual. You mention the fact that men get the power of the priesthood and women have "the gift of motherhood." You claim that Mormon married women are never supposed to work outside the home (though I've known plenty who do and see no contradiction between paid employment and their faith). And then you stop talking. What does all that mean to you?

You talk about what the church tells girls about sex and sexuality, and hint at flashbacks of sexual abuse. Then you talk about meeting a terrific non-Mormon guy and marrying him.

That's it? Was it hard for you to become a fully realized sexual being? Have you managed that, in fact? Did getting close to you in every sense require a lot of patience on his part?

If you don't want to talk about sex, fine; but if you tell me a story about getting felt up in a car as a teenager and then having to confess to your bishop and feeling really weird about the fact that the whole time you felt nothing at all, you've made me want to know when (or that) everything clicked for you in that department.

You talk about being terrified of being excommunicated by the Mormon church for your writing, your activism, and your feelings. Maybe that's why so much of this book seems so vague. If you don't give too many specifics, you can't get in too much trouble.

I'm not sure that's a tenable philosophy.

[goddess · Rating 1 out of 5]

I happened to be at the local library and picked this up out of curiosity. Disclaimer: I’m not a feminist in the worldly sense. I’m a feminist in my own right.....one who believes in the value and beauty of women; one who believes women should be and do all kinds of wonderful things; one who believes we should celebrate our differences with men rather than curse God and seek retribution. I'm not ignorant of The Church's flaws; but I celebrate its greatness. So I knew going into this book I’d better strap myself in and hold on tight. It would be a bumpy ride. Here we go.

I found this book confusing, irreverent, silly, inconsequential, sad. Being four years Joanna’s junior, my Southern (and later Northern) California upbringing in a very devout Mormon family was vastly different. Joanna lumps all Mormons into what the stereotypical LDS family ought to have looked like. Honey, my family was hardly like it nor did I know all that many who were. We lived the gospel, but we were a PriceClub shopping, Wonder Bread buying, Soda drinking (yes, even those “evil” caffeinated ones!), Cadillac driving family. Homemade bread was a treat; we never had a van; my mother never canned food....nor did she crochet; even though I come from Pioneer heritage we never dressed up in bonnets and dresses; I didn’t know what funeral potatoes were until I left for college. Sure, we all like to joke about the Jello salads, casseroles, Road Show productions, stake dances, and crackpot elderly members. But truth be told, this is not the norm in the Mormon religion. We are so much more than this.

Had my first exposure to Mormonism been this book, I’d think they were a crazy lot. A cult even. All the families cookie-cutter copy cats who lived in bomb shelters and completely shunned the outside world. Dude; this couldn’t be further from the truth. Throughout the book I sensed a tone of mockery, disdain, resentment, self-righteousness. Shame? Was she ridiculing the religion she claims to “love”? Bottom line: Ms Brooks flirts with the line of apostasy.

She has quite a vivid memory of her Primary days. Are these simply embellishments? Or did her parents, teachers, ward truly create a state of fear/paranoia among the Saints? I lived in a neighboring stake; I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about. We certainly were not running around like Chicken Littles ready to grab our 72-hr kits and hunker down at any given moment. Yes, these extremists exist; but they are few and far between. There’s weirdos in every religion.

While plenty of the material in this memoir was simply bizarre (the big tampon? Marie Osmond?) some of it got under my skin. Let’s begin with her take on blacks and the priesthood. I quote: “How was I to know that Mormons had played our own special if minor role in that cruelty.” Wowsa. Maybe Joanna missed the day in Sunday School where modern revelation is a major cornerstone in the LDS Church....or the concept that there are just some things we will not know all the answers to in this life. And the Equal Rights Amendment? I guess an official statement by the First Presidency is not enough. Personally, it makes sense why The Church came out against said amendment.

Joanna shows an obvious disdain for the likes of Cleon Skousen, who by the way was asked by the First Presidency to publish such works as The Making of America. Perhaps since she so readily dismisses proclamations and church statements, this has no relevance for her.

Did she really just compare menstruation and Priesthood?

The Church has cleaned out dissenters and sacrileges since its inception (and I’m not just talking about the last 180 years). Those who preach false doctrine and blasphemy are routinely purged. How can we have multiple doctrines spewing forth? We are not a church of confusion. The excommunication of the September Six was a sad but necessary measure. And she shouldn’t feel so put out or picked on. Feminists aren’t the only targets. Just ask Sidney Rigdon and Oliver Cowdery. Or John Singer or Annalee Skarin. Or Bob Longsberry for that matter. And spare me the garbage of “open-mindedness”. The gospel is the gospel, and God is the same today as he was yesterday as he will be tomorrow. A person’s whim or personal opinions that contradict the doctrine of Jesus Christ have no place in His gospel.

The biggest nail grinder? Proposition 8 in California. The Church has every right and obligation to voice opinions on moral/social issues. Gay marriage goes against everything The Church stands for. And contrary to popular belief, marriage is an institution....not a right. The high and mighty Ms Brooks put herself above the fray turning down her nose at us petty (and ignorant) disciples who so blindly "followed" Church leadership on this matter. Newsflash: The majority of us don’t need to be told how to vote on this issue because it is inherently obvious. We can love the gays and accept them; but we don’t rewrite doctrine. And we want to protect the sanctity of marriage. Though Ms Brooks claims it an absolute impossibility for governments to demand churches perform rituals against its own policy or lose their status, she needs to do her research–it’s happening in other countries. Yes, it can happen here. We also believe that allowing such marriages to take place will harm society. And isn’t she just as condescending to label, condemn, judge, and categorize members of The Church who happen to not share her opinion? And how is stealing/hiding LDS canvassing sheets, evidence of hours upon hours of work done by the Yes on 8 campaign, more noble exactly? Her suggestion of what she deems a better use of Prop 8 funds is laughable. Huh; all the money poured into the opposition could have gone to the same cause.....

Joanna Brooks is misguided, lost, conflicted. I have some pity for her. But that pity stops when she takes the gospel I love and cherish, rehashes it into her own bitter diatribe, and spews it all over the published world. I shake my head knowing that unsuspecting and curious nonmembers are getting info from this woman who is only partly committed to the LDS Church. It seems to me that she cares more about what man thinks rather than what God thinks. We can’t pick and choose which doctrines we wish to follow. When she makes statements like, “Do we blame the Orthodox....always doing as they are told, but so alone with their own forms of failure and sorrow,” I take some umbrage. No sweetheart, I don’t do as I’m told. I “obey” and adhere to counsel because I CHOOSE to. I don’t feel alone.

I half expected a heartfelt testimony somewhere in these 200 pages. I saw none. Joanna loves the traditions, but not the truth. She loves the stories, but not the doctrine. The gospel is more than just traditions and great stories. Too bad she doesn’t seem to see what good members of the Church–certainly not perfect–strive to do everyday: live good and honest lives. Keep ourselves unspotted from the world. Build loving and devoted families. Pick ourselves up when we stumble, and overcome the many challenges and adversities (and failures) we all will face.

When one looks for the blemishes, that’s all that will be seen. Ms Brooks seems to see a face full of acne and pockmarks.

[Jon]

Joanna Brooks grew up in an orthodox Mormon home in Southern California. When she left that home to attend BYU she found kinship with several professors who held an unorthodox, ecumenical view of the faith. Sadly, it was a time (early 90s) when the tensions between church leadership and intellectual unorthodoxy were particularly high, and several BYU professors (some of whom mentored Brooks) were excommunicated. These tensions led Brooks to become distant from Mormonism.

Brooks says that a talk by Boyd K. Packer in 1993 was part of why she embraced unorthodox Mormon views. In the talk Elder Packer listed what he saw as three dangers to the church: the gay and lesbian movement, the feminist movement, and challenges from "so-called" scholars and intellectuals. For Brooks, this controversial talk and the excommunications of her professors made her feel as though the church viewed her as an enemy. She was a feminist, an intellectual, and she was sympathetic to the gay and lesbian movement. Three strikes.

Years later, after she married a Jewish man and had two daughters, Brooks decided that she, like her female pioneer ancestors, could do hard things. So she faced her orthodox religion squarely. She returned to activity in the church, all the while holding true to her unorthodox and ecumenical beliefs, which, for the most part, aren't (or shouldn't be) very unorthodox. She sums up her views this way:

All are alike unto God: male and female, black and white, gay and straight.
God is a Mother and a Father.
Mormon women matter.

That message is important, and Brooks serves the church by emphasizing that Mormons believe those things. In addition, Brooks's approach is warm rather than bitter, and that alone makes her efforts admirable.

I had one hangup with the book, however. Brooks never adequately wrestled with the idea that Boyd K. Packer wasn't necessarily at crossroads with her when he spoke of three dangers (importantly not the three dangers) to the church. I would guess (don't know, though—Boyd K. Packer is by all accounts the most orthodox man in church hierarchy) that if Joanna Brooks sat down with Elder Packer she would find that he doesn't take issue with how she summarizes her unorthodox view. That is, I would guess that he also believes that all alike unto God, that God is a Mother and a Father, and that Mormon women matter. To say otherwise would be to say that Body K. Packer is an unorthodox Mormon, because those three assertions are foundational to the faith.

I assume that if Brooks parsed semantics, she would probably agree that there is some danger in certain strains of the gay-lesbian, feminist, and scholarly movements. Brooks probably agrees that highly sexualized gay parades aren't terribly helpful for society. She probably agrees that the anti-children and anti-man shades of a virulent version of feminism aren't beneficial. And she probably agrees that scholars and intellectuals who get too puffed up in their own knowledge and wisdom pose a danger to spiritual life.

That isn't to say that Joanna Brooks's position is the same as Boyd K. Packer's position. They still disagree on hundreds of points, and that's fine—I favor the ecumenical vision of Mormonism that Brooks illustrates at the end of her memoir, one that fits all of humanity. My point is that Brooks ascribes a different connotation to feminism than Boyd K. Packer did in his 1993 talk. Understanding that difference makes a big (all the?) difference. Brooks was never an enemy to the church, and the church was wrong for rankling against feminist BYU professors in the 90s. The mess was a result mostly of horrible misunderstandings of what people mean when they talk about feminism.

In sum, this memoir would have been even more powerful if Brooks had fully wrestled through the semantics of some of the words she uses: feminist, intellectual, enemy, etc. Had she done that, we would have seen a Brooks who didn't feel quite so out of place in the faith.

[Peter · Rating 1 out of 5]

This was a disappointing memoir. The author leads the reader into her atypical "Mormon" experience. However she soon exiles herself because she cannot come to terms with core tenants of church doctrine (ie. gay marriage is not ordained of God; she also prays to a Heavenly Mother). She eventually falls into inactivity after her mentor is excommunicated and yet blames the LDS Church for not being flexible enough to include people with her unorthodox beliefs. She talks more about her desire for her children to be a part of the Mormon "tradition" and cultural heritage, than any spiritual desire for them to embrace the truthfulness of the gospel. Instead she shrouds her unbelief by blaming the church for not being more inclusive of those that hold views contrary to official church doctrine. In the end I just felt sorry for the author and the decisions she made that brought her such unhappiness.

[Katie Johnson · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wanted to like this book more than I did. The first half was describing what it was like for her growing up as a Mormon. I guess I was expecting it to be a little bit more interesting. And while there were a lot of "that's so true" or "oh yeah, I did that", I don't know I just didn't find that reading about it was that enjoyable. Just "eh". Although the chapter about the Marie Osmond book was good. A great telling if what it's like when you're 12 years old. Also, I liked how she pointed out how the young girls image of the perfect Mormon woman (Marie Osmond) is really just an illusion. That crushing pressure to be the PERFECT Mormon and the PERFECT woman is a very dangerous thing that is VERY prevalent in the church, especially in Utah.

The second half of the book kind of took a turn I didn't expect. Brooks ends up leaving the church after the church declared feminists, intellectuals, and gays & lesbians to be its enemies. It was very hard for Brooks being a feminist to see her mentor's get fired from BYU for speaking out against it and being feminists. I REALLY admire her courage to stand up for what she knows to be right, even though it meant leaving her beloved church. She still loves the church and it's traditions and wants to be a part of it. I liked how she kept talking about the church of her grandparents and the church of today and how she will hold onto and keep her faith in the church of her grandparents.
I love that she is wise enough to take all the good she sees in it and leave what she sees as the bad. She doesn't have to throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. So many people find one fault or one mistake and they have to completely run away from it and fight tooth and nail against it. Brooks doesn't do that. She just does what she has been taught all her life (even taught by the church) and that is standing up for what she believes to be right.

I think why I really just didn't love this book was her writing style. It just tried too hard to be poetic and romantic. Quite a few times I hard a hard time following the actual story or message because I just got lost in the language and didn't get her metaphors and simile's.

[Sjcapanna · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a non-Mormon, my opinions of the LDS church have come from the media and from my personal experiences with members of the Mormon church. Those opinions are largely negative, especially when it comes to the church's attitudes toward gender differences.

This book was one of the few times in my life where I witnessed somebody making a compelling argument in favor of membership in the Mormon church. (Surprisingly, one of the other times was the famous South Park episode about Mormons.) Joanna Brooks made it clear that she doesn't love everything the church stood for, but that she is willing to stick with it because of the feelings of love, community, and faith she associates with the church and its culture.

I think the Mormon church needs more members like Joanna, who continues to attend church without blindly accepting every single one of their beliefs/practices. I think too often the church takes an "all or nothing" approach to everything its members do and believe: You can't be a half-Mormon or pick and choose what you're going to do. You're either all in or all out. Members like Joanna Brooks make Mormonism seem much more human to us outsiders.

[Book Riot Community]

I’ve read numerous narratives written by women who fled Mormonism after years of spiritual abuse, but Brooks followed a different path, refusing to give up her heritage even while she insisted on defying the church politically, emotionally, and sexually. Her warts-and-all recollections of the human side of growing up among devout Mormons present a sympathetic picture, showcasing the best elements of belonging to a tight-knit community, along with the fear of reprisals for transgression and the pain of alienation. With the threat of excommunication hanging always over her head, Brooks embraces feminist thought, works to promote marriage equality, and seeks evidence to contradict the racist and sexist assumptions of her religion; she strives to teach her children the beautiful values of their pioneer ancestors while protecting them from the oppressive ideals that cast their shadows over her own life.


–Monica Friedman


from The Best Books We Read In May 2017: https://bookriot.com/2017/06/02/riot-...

[Dianna Davidson · Rating 2 out of 5]

As a Mormon woman, I was expecting a lot from this book. It disappointed me though, and not for the reasons you might think. Ms. Brooks was very articulate and poetic in painting her own picture of her Mormon childhood and young adulthood. I found many similarities in her growing up years and mine, so I identified with many of her experiences.

Unfortunately, the tone of Ms. Brooks' writing was quite confusing and almost monopolized the prose as it went from playful to sarcastic to serious within just a few sentences. As I read I felt like I was always trying to decipher if the writer was poking fun AT me and my Mormon faith, laughing WITH me about the somewhat unusual culture of our lives as Mormons, or truly criticizing and pointing a finger of judgment at the LDS church. Sarcasm is easier to pull off in a blog format, and Ms. Brooks' tone reminded me of her more casual posts in her blog, but writing a memoir is quite different and requires more restraint and more background knowledge of the topic for a variety of readers to take hold of it. With so many seemingly "inside jokes" about her life experience as a Mormon I found myself wondering exactly what she was talking about, especially when she waxed poetic, vague, and cryptic.

The first few chapters were difficult for me to push through, especially the one where Ms. Brooks writes about her youthful infatuation with the celebrity life of Marie Osmond and a book entitled "Marie Osmond's Guide to Beauty, Health & Style". She basically just reiterated what was contained in Marie's book and how much she wanted to be just like her . . . for 20 pages!

One interesting chapter discussed the tension between the Mormons and the Born-again Christians in her community as a young woman. Speaking of a derogatory film that was widely distributed and shown to many people of other faiths called "The God Makers", Ms. Brooks says, "The God Makers even made a mockery of what happened in our Mormon temples, lampooning the choreography of promises our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents rehearsed behind closed doors. They made fun of our underwear too." Ms. Brooks doesn't go so far as to ridicule and mock the most sacred temple ceremonies but she comes close to mocking everything else as she analyzes the Mormon culture she grew up in and with which she seems to have a love/hate relationship.

I really enjoyed the middle chapters where Ms. Brooks gets more reflective and serious as she recounts a period of her life when she chose herself and her ideals over her church. This was touching and interesting to find out how she came to the decisions she did. Through the entire book I kept wondering how people not of the Mormon faith will understand, let alone view, this memoir. I think it would be very difficult to understand and access if I didn't have my own experience in the LDS culture and religion.

Through most of the book Ms. Brooks talks about how she has always been a deep question asker. Her book definitely illustrates that fact but it fails to really come together to offer any real answers except that she loves the Mormon culture because her grandmother and great grandmother gave her a symbolic pioneer hat to hang on to during trials and challenges. I hope readers who are not of the LDS faith will go to more reliable sources than Ms. Brooks to find out the doctrines and tenets of the LDS religion, especially what we believe about Jesus Christ. Look at mormon.org for a primary resource and put Ms. Brooks' book in the memoir section of your library instead of the religion group.

[Meredith · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book was disappointing. It was poorly written and disorganized. She goes into excruciating detail about being 12 years old and imposing on herself Marie Osmond's 62 minute morning routine, as well as all the tips in Marie Osmond's beauty guide. It was cute but I didn't really care. Then she breezes over her college experience at BYU, which shook her faith and lead her into exile from the Mormon church. She factually lists all the Mormon feminists and intellectuals who were excommunicated from the church, but fails to describe her personal experience with them, though one was her mentor. She seems to identify with the feminist movement but does not speak about what inspired her to become a feminist, her ideas, what events she participated in, and how her family/ other students reacted. She simply writes "My Church had declared me a double enemy," which left me wondering, was she excommunicated too, did church officials chasten her? She writes that she "returned my diploma in protest," again leaving me confused with the vagueness.

She also gave few details into the romance with her now-husband, which would have been interesting, given she is Mormon and he is Jewish. How did her family react? Did she struggle with this interfaith romance?

She randomly throes in a chapter on all of her "pioneer" grandmothers. Interesting to her, but not to the reader.

I kept wondering why she doesn't sever herself from her backward Mormon religion, which seems to bring her a lot of shame as an adult. She worked on the No on 8 proposition and wrote "my heart has been thrown to the concrete and a cinder block dropped on it" in describing the Mormon-led movement to take away marriage equality. She cries every time she goes to church, as if she knows that any modern, intelligent woman simply cannot reconcile the misogynist, homophobic, racist LDS practices with a simple belief that "All are alike unto God: male and female, black and white, gay and straight."

[M. H. · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is not for me. However, the reason I gave it only two stars is the writing.

The writing of this book is juvenile and difficult to follow. It's like it was written by a college student for a memoir writing class. I assume that the intended audience is people who don't know Mormons (as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are often called). Certainly the intended audience cannot be those who grew up Mormon, because if it was then it is way too dumbed down for them.

What everyone seems to love about Joanna Brooks is that "she is talking about stuff we don't talk about". Maybe on her blog, in her interviews, as part of her online presence on Facebook she is, but she did not in The Book of Mormon Girl. It reads as a coming-of-age story: Joanna among the orange groves and born-again Christians of southern California gains in maturity and complexity in her relationship to her religion. She presents her experience as the experience of all others 'like her' (e.g. Mormons) and that is unpalatable to me.

[Christy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading this, particularly the chapters from teenagehood and beyond, was the most spiritual experience I've had in a long time. I recommend it to everyone, particularly women, and more particularly, women who don't feel like they fit the mold. I thought it would be a battle cry for Mormon feminists, but it's more like a song - a beautiful, bittersweet, lyrical piece that connects the peculiar, powerful past of Mormonism with the promise of a brighter and more inclusive future.

[David Redden · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. This is a sweet, inspiring, and well-written personal account of girl raised in the close and comforting Mormon culture who later finds herself an empowered liberal intellectually-minded feminist woman in the early 90s. Unfortunately, right about the same time, Mormon leadership declared two of the three (intellectualism and feminism) to be primary dangers to the church, and the other (liberalism) is probably still considered to be incompatible with the gospel by the majority of Mormons.

Professor Brooks gives us a delightful peek into her relationship (so far) with herself, God, her Mormon faith, and the diverse group of individuals the constitute "the Church." I was inspired by Brooks' dogged refusal to compromise her personal and religious beliefs, and her faith to stay connected despite her ostracism from the church. I also believe that she is on the forefront of some issues that the church will eventually change direction on, namely gay marriage and the treatment of womanhood.

I'm not sure how well the book will speak to non-Mormons. I suppose they might think it's interesting that Brooks manages to be a Mormon feminist liberal academic who supports gay marriage. In that sense it might expose people to a level of diversity within the LDS membership they were not aware of. Heck, some Mormons might not even be aware of that diversity. Some non-Mormons might also identify with her struggle to live her faith and abide by her principles. I just don't know because, like Brooks, I can't shut the Mormon in me off anymore.

Speaking of Mormons, a few apparently Mormon reviewers have suggested that Brooks bashes on the church. Disagreement with church leadership's stance on some issues is not bashing. Lots of Mormons find that they don't fully align with the leaders of the church on every issue. They may justify the disagreement by deciding the disagreeable idea or stance is not inspired. They might think the objectionable bit arises from the culture, or maybe it's just the opinion of one person rather than inspiration from God. But our truth-o-meters differ. What one considers inspired or "true" is not necessarily that which the person next to him or her on the pew considers inspired or "true." We can--and we should--respect that difference.

Some apparently Mormon reviewers contemptuously suggest Brooks ostracized herself from the church. There is surely blame to go around if that's what you're looking for. Anybody who has felt moved to leave the chapel due to a particularly partisan sacrament talk probably knows at least a little about what led to Brooks' time away from the church. But assigning blame is obviously not the point of the book. I appreciate how Brooks treads lightly on this issue.

My favorite parts of the book, for different reasons: her account of the excruciating object lessons offensively comparing women's bodies to flowers, donuts, and/or boards with nails hammered into them that left me...speechless (the holes never go away?!?); her reaction to Sister Coomb's huge tampons (funny/insightful); and, most of all, her dad's reaction when she sends her parents a copy of the speech she plans to give at the Mormons for Marriage meeting. Her dad's reaction encapsulates so much about the message of this excellent book. I hope you read it.

[Abby · Rating 2 out of 5]

I heard this woman interviewed on the radio one day, and wanted to read her book. I was hoping to get a lot more out of it. It pretty much tanked for me.



I was expecting a lifelong active LDS woman who also is a feminist, sharing her history and views on the church and her world. She mentioned in the radio interview that there are many unflattering events in the history of the church that have been covered up or glossed over, and how she wants us to have an honest discussion about how they happened and why, and how to keep them from happening again. Don't just pretend they never happened, because they did and we can learn from them, right?


Instead, the first part talked about her childhood/teen years as a Mormon girl. It was very mildly amusing, but that was all. She sounded very similar to me as a 12 year old. Then the book took a strange turn, and forgive me author lady, but you totally lost me. Suddenly there was a sentence about a neighbor man looking down at her and someone grabbing her innapropriately after school (or something), and I thought it was about to turn from a carefree childhood memoir to a dark and sinister story of covered up abuse. Then she went on and never mentioned it again. I was so confused.


In the second half of the book, I got a feel for who she has been as an adult. She was almost completely inactive for a decade, but now has two young daughters and has slowly been bringing Mormon history into their lives, especially that of her female pioneer ancestors. She is married to a practicing Jewish man, and they don't even celebrate Christmas at all in their home. She's never been through the LDS temple (kind of a must if you want to paint yourself as a voice of the Mormons), and yet she writes articles and blogs all over the internet from the viewpoint of a Mormon woman. She's like a half Mormon. And she never got into the dark, discarded histories of the church that I was expecting. The stuff she did write about was too vague for me, only somewhat familiar with the events she was talking about (like Mormon feminists being excommunicated in the 90's.)


I was disappointed. Bleh. The end.

[Wren · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have no idea how I'm going to review this book. It's too personal for me on several levels.

1. I am a liberal Mormon like Joanna (but unlike her in some ways). 2. I am from the same home town. Her dad was my bishop back in Cypress, CA; her mom is good friends with my mother. They still talk on the phone regularly even though they don't live in the same state anymore.
3. I have pioneer ancestors like she does (I'm 5th generation Mormon), and my mother acculturated me in So. Cal. as if I was a early 20th century rural woman with many of the same domestic practices and world views. 4. I attended BYU and earned a degree in English like Joanna. She was an undergrad when I was a grad student, and we observed some of the same gut-wrenching events: September 6, feminist faculty firings, etc. 5. Like Joanna, I left BYU and studied for a Ph.D. in another state, laboring alongside students alienated from their home cultures, students steeped in continental literary theory.

However, I never filed a dissertation or got a tenure-track job. But I did work for universities for three decades and experienced the double consciousness that she writes from in her memoir. I often describe my self as amphibian.

Consequently, reading this memoir put me in a place where I constantly analyzed my life choices and attitudes with hers, leaving me wondering what my memoir would look like -- or if I could ever write one now that hers exists and is so parallel to my own biography in many ways (but not in all ways).

So because of all this, I have a hyper self-awareness that makes it difficult for me to ground myself in a place from which to write a book review.

The book sends me into a neurotic paralysis by analysis that I just want to shut off my brain by going to a yoga class or immersing myself in the Now in a zen Buddhist way. So this is one book that I'm not reviewing / analyzing / critiquing.

Ohm.

[Bridget · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Book of Mormon Girl is half hilarious, half heartbreaking. Joanna Brooks is almost exactly ten years older than me, so I was surprised (and delighted) to find that her childhood brand of Mormonism resonated so strongly with my own. Some of the things she mentioned about growing up Mormon rang so true to me and brought up memories I hadn't thought about in YEARS (like searching for the root beer among the Cokes at birthday parties, seriously!). She, too, endured a regional dance festival, bizarre hair/makeup/clothing advice, and campy church videos, although her favorite was Man's Search For Happiness, while my Primary class (and siblings) preferred The Pump. She even quotes Saturday's Warrior lyrics (don't be alarmed, it's done facetiously).

The second half of the book was less familiar to me, more haunting. The BYU of the late 80s/early 90s was a very different place than the one I got to know in 1999. And my heart aches for any Mormon living in California during the 2008 election. But even though I didn't identify with her exact struggles, her feelings about her church and the way she worked through her doubts really resonated with me.

This is a book about Mormonism, but it's cultural Mormonism, not doctrinal. I think Mormons may appreciate it more than non-Mormons, but it's not at all one big inside joke. Reading this book will show you that there are as many different kinds of Mormons as there are individuals; as she puts it: "This is a church of tenderness and arrogance, of sparkling differences and human failings. There is no unmixing the two." Lovely.

[Tatiana · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this memoir immensely. Joanna is awesome. I learned a little more what it's like to grow up in the church I chose as an adult. We share the condition of being liberal and feminist in a church that swung a long way into conservative territory around the turn of the 20th century, and clings to patriarchy still today in the 21st. You'd think people like Joanna and me could just leave the church, but there's so much more to it than that. For Joanna, she has her whole pioneer family history, her whole experience of growing up. For me it's only the Restored Gospel, which is the worldview (and partnership with a living God) that unlocked my joy and gave me courage, energy, freedom, abundant life, and realms in which to exercise them.

Joanna feels that too, as is obvious, and it's given her the courage essentially to take on the whole patriarchal structure of the church. She declares herself who she is, a child of God, and reclaims the Restored Gospel from those who would try to say that LGBTQ people, liberals, intellectuals, and feminists are enemies of the church. She's become the human face of Mormonism to a wider public, lately, a political commentator and translator of the Mormon Experience into the American vernacular, into plain human terms. I think we couldn't have a better representative! Hooray for Joanna!

[Jeanette (Ms. Feisty) · Rating 3 out of 5]

The tampon in the cup of root beer was the funniest damn thing in the whole book.

[Jan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Joanna Brooks writes candidly about growing up Mormon in California in the 80s. Her explanations of the culture, teachings, and what it feels like to be LDS are spot on. We know we are seen as peculiar by many, but feel warm and safe in our close knit Mormon wards. As she matures at BYU she bumps into Mormon feminism and starts to question the way women and intellectuals are viewed by the church hierarchy. Later on, married to a Jewish man, and the mother of two young girls, she comes face to face with the church's stand on Prop 8, a stand she finds extremely hurtful and contradictory to Jesus's teachings. An insightful memoir on what it means to be an unorthodox adult Mormon, struggling but wanting to hold on.

[Kris Irvin · Rating 2 out of 5]

Every Mormon girl DOES have a story to tell - and all stories are different. If you've read this book, you've read the story of one Mormon. Not the entirety of the church population.

I was hesitant to read this book because I wasn't sure if it was anti-LDS or not. From the blurb on the back, it seemed to be. But I picked it up and read a few pages and decided to continue on.

So much of this book doesn't really apply to my experiences in the LDS religion. I was born in the late 80s and so grew up in a drastically different time period. Marie Osmond? Who's that? (Just kidding. Kind of.) I'd never even heard of the BYU firings until this book. It doesn't seem like that big a deal to me, but then again, I didn't live through it. I wasn't clear on some parts of the controversy or Brooks' role in them - at one point she says she was under the radar and they didn't affect her church membership, and then in another part she says "I played the tapes of my council," and I thought, "uh, your disciplinary council? So were you under church discipline?" I thought that part could have been a little clearer, but it's also a personal thing, so I can understand why it's not described in great detail.

Brooks is a good writer, but she just seemed sad throughout this whole book. She never appears to find any kind of happiness or balance. She's just kind of ... there. I think it's very impressive that she is raising her children in an interfaith household and even cooler that she is making an effort to learn Jewish traditions alongside her children. That's awesome. She just doesn't seem thrilled about it. She comes off as defeated, like being LDS exhausted her or something.

I'm not really the target audience for this book. I am 15 years younger than her and grew up in a much different environment. Not all Mormons feel the same as Joanna Brooks. Not all Mormons feel the same as Stephanie Nielsen. Not all Mormons feel the same as me. We're all different, and that's okay. I guess what I am trying to say here is, I hope that nobody feels turned off to the LDS Religion after reading this book. We are all people and none of us are perfect and none of us (I hope) claim to be. We just try to follow the counsel of our prophet, study the scriptures and listen for God's word to direct us, and raise our families in the best way we know how.

[Alissa Faust · Rating 2 out of 5]

I will keep this brief to avoid confrontation, but I should have found out more about this woman before I read the book. I was intrigued by the title and thought it would be about a girl who stood up and defended her religion despite hardships and opposition. Rather, the book should have been called 'The Book ABOUT a Mormon Girl' and should have more clearly stated that it would be about a girl standing up for her opinions and views that differ from the mainstream views of her religion. I felt that although she did give insight into the 'Mormon culture' she worded it in a way that made Mormons seem so weird and crazy that who would ever want to become a Mormon? She talked about preparing for the Apocalypse instead of being reasonably prepared for anything that could happen: death, loss of job, etc. (Just to name one example).

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (a Mormon). I understand that to be a member of the church, you don't have to be perfect, or have perfect views. There can be points of doctrine that you don't understand fully. That's okay. Just like any other church, people come here with their own opinions, and life experience. However, each of us is encouraged to pray and seek for the understanding that we don't have. We are supposed to ask questions-that's how the whole restoration came about, was because Joseph Smith had a question! I feel that sometimes people with a louder, more opposing voice can often times bring a negative view on many subjects (not just religion). How many people would really want to sit and read the biography of a typical Christian woman who stays and home day in a day out striving to teach her children gospel truth?

All in all, I should have figured out what the book would be about before I read it.

[Becca · Rating 4 out of 5]

I like this book because I think it works through an experience that I think a lot of people can relate to. The author grew up in a church that always felt right and comfortable and safe, but as she matured she slowly came to realize that she didn't fit as comfortably as she always thought, and went through a painful period of self exploration to recreate a place for herself.

That said, I wish it were written a little differently. It's presented as a series of memories and impressions in short, poetic essays. I get that this is a memoir and probably a truer representation of memory than traditional prose. It's interesting, but it makes the storytelling somewhat lacking. There is a chapter where she falls away from religious activity, and there are almost no personal details at all. It seems very abrupt and unexplained, and I feel like this is the story I most wanted to hear. On the other hand, there are several pages of quoted material from Marie Osmond's guide to beauty, just in case I'm interested in finding out what homemade oatmeal scrub works best for my skin type. I wish the emphasis had been placed where I think it was more meaningful.

[Jane Dugger · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really wanted to give this more stars. Please bear with me while I try to explain how much I liked this book and why I didn't.

The content of this book really touched me. She experienced a very different Mormon childhood than I did. I grew up in "the mission field" but had quite a few friends at my school who were also LDS so I never felt too alone or different. My parents are converts who never attended the Temple. So I don't have the religious history of my ancestors to compare to my current experiences. I didn't attend BYU. I didn't even apply. Now, I can't exactly recall why - I think it was a two-fold reason: too far from my grandparents and I didn't think the Y was a serious university for women. I didn't want people to think I was going there to get my MRS degree. (Although I thought every boy I met at SLU was my future husband, even the novice Jesuit priests.) And finally, my reasons for being a lapsed Mormon are muddled - a little bit of this, a little bit of that. I didn't stop attending church for specific moral reasons.

I love Joanna Brooks. I enjoy her writing SO much. I really feel a kinship with her thoughts about the Church. I tell all of my LDS friends if they aren't reading her work to begin. It makes you think which I treasure. I love her stories about growing up LDS and her feelings about her conflict with the Church.

I am not judging Ms Brooks' writing or experiences or her interpretations or her feelings. I can identify with the dichotomy of loving the Church & its teachings and not understanding (dare I say hate) some of its actions. Heavenly Father is a God of LOVE. He loves us all despite, or perhaps because, our sins & shortcomings. I cannot reconcile that HF is so petty as to not accept us if we break the Word of Wisdom or love the same sex. I could go on & on about all the great points Ms Brooks expands upon in her book but I would be typing forever.

What I didn't like about the book: Ms. Brooks deserved a better editor. I hated how this book was put together. There should have been a nice introduction about the layout of the book. A bit of a big picture - this is what I'm trying to share/explain to you. The reader is thrown into the semi-deep end of the Mormon culture pool with nary a floatie or a lifeguard in sight to help guide the reader. I would not "get" this book at all if I didn't have an LDS background.

This seemed to be more of a short story collection than a memoir. The stories are nice but how do they fit together as a whole? I would have suggested Ms Brooks provide an introduction or at the very least intersperse the back stories with the more recent ones. I just felt like I was being handed a stack of essays she wrote over 35 years and told to read it without any explanation. It was a little disappointing.

[Darlene Young · Rating 3 out of 5]

OK, I'm going to cop out here as usual. The book and the opinion I'm going to spout deserve a more thoughtful review than I have time or inclination for. So, in a nutshell:

first half: semi-interesting in an "Oh, I recognize that" sort of way. Possibly more interesting to people who aren't already familiar with LDS culture, who I think are her intended audience anyway.

second half: a little tiresome. There were some inaccurate generalizations (she skipped over, or declined to go into, the much more complicated nature of the firings at BYU, for example) that seemed to be generalized for the purpose of supporting her point, which was, "Poor me, for somehow managing to be a complex, believing (sort of) Mormon while also wincing at what the leadership does to gays/feminists/liberals." I felt like I was in high school again, with the people who felt they were so much more interesting (less shallow) because they could walk the line between adoring the church and leaving it; I felt like Brooks was just trying to show her fellow liberal feminists why her heart still yearns for the church, and (as I do with many memoirs) felt like she was sort of capitalizing on her pain. Like, if she weren't so torn, she really wouldn't have anything to say, so she might as well play up her agony. It was just a little melodramatic.

Not that I don't sympathize with people who face head-on the quandaries of membership in this church. I consider myself to be one of them. There are quandaries, some of them deep and emotional.

I would have felt like her pain was more real if I could see some evidence of her CURRENT love of the church and gospel in her life. It was more like, "I once loved it; it's in my blood the way Judaism is in the blood of an ethnic Jew, so it hurts that I find I must leave, though it's easier to keep one foot in." I would have liked to hear about her TESTIMONY, if she still has one, and the tension it causes when she lacks faith in some aspects of the church. Perhaps she felt she needed to downplay that aspect, since she was appealing to a non-member audience, and just tell the story as if she were talking about being ashamed of her parents or her race (something that happened to her, not that she chose). I would like to know whether it is a current struggle for her or just a mourning for something she's lost.

[Cookie E. · Rating 3 out of 5]

I follow Joanna Brooks on Twitter, and really enjoy her posts. When I heard that she had written a book, I had to read it. While I am not Mormon, her stories resonated with me. I, too, grew up in an environment where religion and culture were joined at the hip, and I found her stories "familiar" and heartwarming (or heartbreaking, depending on the story). While I may not have had jello salad, funeral potatoes, or object lessons - what I did have seems an awful lot like them.

What I appreciated most about the book, however, was Brooks' difficult revelation that the religion she loves and respects in so many ways is not living up to its best self (at least from the author's perspective). I wish her continued success as she works to carve a place at the table for herself and others like her who refuse to be "disappeared from the faith" of their ancestors.

[Heather C. · Rating 2 out of 5]

I know that a lot of people have appreciated Brooks' candid viewpoint on her religion, but this book wasn't for me. I find it challenging to live in a world that generally doesn't share my faith, viewpoints, or sympathies already, and I don't enjoy reading anything that makes me feel like I'm taking friendly fire.

It's one thing to discuss the details (even the ugly ones) of one's religion and/or faith with a friend in person--that, I find to be important, but I didn't find reading her experience enlightening at all. I have gone through so much to get my faith where it is; I think I'll try and stick with more uplifting writing.

[Ami · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think there has been a fair amount of hyperbole surrounding this book. In the end, I found it to be interesting but kind of mediocre.
First, speaking on the writing: this book was seriously in need of a good editor. I realize it was originally self-published, so Brooks wouldn't have had the typical editing process. But isn't she a professor of English at a major university? Even ignoring the higher expectation of writing quality from an English professor, wouldn't she have had ample friends and colleagues to read through it and make suggestions? Like how the Marie Osmond chapter went on pointlessly and for far too long. And how she mentioned the "orange groves" of her home so annoyingly often. And the various descriptions and flowery phrases that were reused word for word several times. And no references or citations! Just a few acknowledgments as an afterthought. Maybe she was on a big time crunch. Or maybe she didn't think she'd need an editor. If so, she and I disagree on that point.
Really, Brooks and I (also a feminist Mormon) disagree on many points, which is okay. If we only read books that told us about our own opinions, we'd be pretty boring, ignorant people. I enjoyed reading about her experiences and her struggles and her fierce devotion to her faith despite disagreements and even some cruelty. I loved her dream for her sixteen-year-old self, an honest, positive explanation of the mystery and beauty of sex, completely devoid of weird,
confusing object lessons. Yes, I loved that chapter.
There is an aspect of adolescent development referred to as "heightened self-consciousness," the tendency of teenagers to feel like they always have an audience and that everyone is as concerned about their thoughts and actions as they are themselves. Some adults never really lose that, and I sometimes felt like Joanna Brooks' experiences might have been significantly colored by some heightened self-consciousness. So there was a string of prominent Mormon feminists being excommunicated while you were at BYU. I totally understand that would be difficult, confusing, angering, even heartbreaking. And you share many of the same opinions they do, therefore you MUST be on the church's watch list and are "forced" into exile? It sure seemed like the exile was self-imposed. Maybe she just didn't include enough information on the extent of her involvement or possible warnings she received (again, an editor could have helped with that). I mean, Joanna Brooks is fairly prominent as a feminist Mormon now, but back then, she was just another BYU grad. One of thousands. I have some doubts about how perilous her membership was at the time.
That is not to minimize her struggle. She clearly suffered a lot. I'm just suggesting that she--and other progressive Mormons--are perhaps not as alone, not as special as they tend to think. Sure they're in a definite minority. But I think if they were to broaden their thinking (What?? A PROGRESSIVE who need to broaden HER or HIS thinking??), they would find that there are more like-minded people than they realize. It sometimes seems as if some people have an unacknowledged inner struggle between wanting strength in numbers and wanting to be a special non-conformist. It's like the scene in The Simpsons when Lisa defiantly strides onto the football field and declares, "That's right! A GIRL who wants to play football!" only to find that there are already several girls on the team.
I actually understand that feeling. But as difficult as realizing you're not that special may be, the strength in numbers and the release of the self-imposed struggle brings greater happiness and growth. Do people in Sunday school and Relief Society, even sacrament meeting or General Conference say things that are totally at odds with your beliefs, even ridiculous or offensive? Definitely. Do you need to walk out in defiance and go cry in your car? The vast majority of the time, I don't think so. Just raise your hand and offer your perspective. They probably won't agree with you, but that's okay; you don't agree with them, either. You and they will probably never be best friends, but that's okay. We grow from interacting with, loving, and serving those who aren't like us. That's what the Gospel is all about.
One more point: when Brooks commits her passionate, spur of the moment sabotage of the Yes to 8 campaign, she describes looking down the hallways and finding them clear, allowing her to anonymously do what she feels is right. Have you ever been in church during a meeting and seen clear hallways? No toddlers running around, no parents hushing a crying baby, no latecomers chatting in the foyer? I don't doubt Brooks' actions; I'm just having a hard time picturing the quiet, empty halls. Sounds like she got a pretty lucky break!

[Adrienne · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love Joanna Brooks for her courage, both to question AND to embrace Mormonism. It seems like most Mormons choose one or the other: criticism or total endorsement, rejection or complete acceptance, bitterness or unquestioning devotion. I'm so happy--and encouraged--to have a Mormon voice to unite those of us who cannot accept all of Mormonism, and yet want it to be a part of our lives. Because, as Brooks points out, it IS a part of who we are, regardless of how we react to it.

On page 159, she talks about her grandmother, who grew up in Garland, Utah, in a Mormon environment where her parents had a coffee pot on the stove and "people weren't as strict about rules or doctrine, but still taught the gospel as it should be taught, and who else were they to be anyways but Mormons? Who else in all the world were we supposed to be?" As someone who has spent six years away from the church, all the while missing it and loving it but finding myself unable to reconcile my own beliefs with it, this really spoke to me. Who else in all the world am I supposed to be but a Mormon girl? For orthodox Mormons, this sounds bad, but most of me wants Mormonism simply because it is MY tradition. It's what I was born into. It's the culture I know. It's not something I necessarily believe is "true". But I don't care about that. It makes me happy. Belonging to it makes me happy.

The first part of the book was a fun read for both myself and my jack Mormon husband. We had a great time reliving the Mormon quirkiness that defined our upbringing. The second half is just heart breaking. But I love that Brooks has found a way to make this thing work for her. It's a process I have been through myself (though my own issues with the church may not be exactly the same as hers).

Oh, the last chapter. So lovely. "What do we do with ourselves when we find we have failed to become the adults we dreamed as pious children?....How do we react when we discover at the core of faith a knot of contradictions? Do we throw it all out?....Do we blame our parents?....I don't want to blame anyone. I want to do what my ancestors did: look west and dream up a new country for my children. I don't want to blame anyone. I just want to tell my story. Because the tradition is young, and the next chapter is yet to be written. And ours may yet be a faith that is big enough for all of our stories."

I think all of us unorthodox Mormons NEED to tell our stories. We need to have the courage to be honest about our testimonies (or lack thereof), so that everyone out there who has similar concerns or reservations or the same lack of testimony will feel like there is room for them in this tradition, instead of walking away because they can't give everything to it. We can embrace the church even if we can't embrace it all at once.