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The Miseducation of Cameron Post
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Young Adult Fiction (2012)Set in rural Montana in the early 1990s, Emily M. Danforth's The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a powerful and widely acclaimed YA coming-of-age novel in the tradition of the classic Annie on My Mind.
Cameron Post feels a mix of guilt and relief when her parents die in a car accident. Their deaths mean they will never learn the truth she eventually comes to—that she's gay. Orphaned, Cameron comes to live with her old-fashioned grandmother and ultraconservative aunt Ruth. There she falls in love with her best friend, a beautiful cowgirl. When she’s eventually outed, her aunt sends her to God’s Promise, a religious conversion camp that is supposed to “cure” her homosexuality. At the camp, Cameron comes face to face with the cost of denying her true identity.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a stunning and provocative literary debut that was a finalist for the YALSA Morris Award and was named to numerous “best” lists.
480 pages, ebook
First published February 7, 2012
2366 people are currently reading
106305 people want to read
About the author
Emily M. Danforth
2 books2,040 followersemily m. danforth's first novel--The Miseducation of Cameron Post-- is a coming of GAYge story set largely in Miles City, Montana, the cattle ranching town where she was born and raised. It was made into a feature film of the same name in 2018.
emily's second novel is a sapphic-gothic-comedy titled Plain Bad Heroines. Plain Bad Heroines is set largely in Rhode Island, the state where she's lived for almost a decade with her wife Erica and two dogs, Kevin and Sally O'Malley.
emily has her MFA in Fiction from the University of Montana and a Ph.D in English-Creative Writing from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. For several years, she was an Assistant Professor of English at Rhode Island college. emily has also worked as a lifeguard, a swim instructor, a bartender, a waiter, an aquatics director at a YWCA, a door-to-door salesperson (for one summer in college), and a telemarketer (for about 2 weeks in college).
emily' favorite slasher movie is April Fool's Day (1986).
Her favorite drink is iced coffee with extra ice. (Followed closely by the Aperol Spritz.)
emily's second novel is a sapphic-gothic-comedy titled Plain Bad Heroines. Plain Bad Heroines is set largely in Rhode Island, the state where she's lived for almost a decade with her wife Erica and two dogs, Kevin and Sally O'Malley.
emily has her MFA in Fiction from the University of Montana and a Ph.D in English-Creative Writing from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. For several years, she was an Assistant Professor of English at Rhode Island college. emily has also worked as a lifeguard, a swim instructor, a bartender, a waiter, an aquatics director at a YWCA, a door-to-door salesperson (for one summer in college), and a telemarketer (for about 2 weeks in college).
emily' favorite slasher movie is April Fool's Day (1986).
Her favorite drink is iced coffee with extra ice. (Followed closely by the Aperol Spritz.)
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Displaying 1 - 29 of 5,595 reviews
March 10, 2012
If you were to lay out a visual storyboard for The Miseducation of Cameron Post, it would be filled with lomographic photography--retro lighting, wide-open vistas, saturated colors, and quirky, sometimes blurry exposures that provide quick snapshots of the many small pleasures of childhood. This coming of age novel, which is written more like adult literary fiction than typical YA, beautifully captures the sun-drenched mood of summer as we meet Cameron, a young girl living in a small town in eastern Montana in 1989.
It was the kind of heat where a breeze feels like someone's venting a dryer over the town, whipping dust and making the cottonseeds from the big cottonwoods float across a wide blue sky and collect in soft tufts on neighborhood lawns. Irene and I called it summer snow, and sometimes we'd squint into the dry glare and try to catch cotton on our tongues.
It's a pleasure to be lulled into the slow rhythm of the author's words and to enjoy the moments of stillness and spontaneity throughout the entire story. As the novel begins, Cameron's parents have gone off on their annual camping trip, and she's spending the summer with her best friend Irene, eating too-big scoops of ice cream and strawberry pretzel salad, freezing wet shirts to keep cool, telling stories, and watching the twilight creep over the town. There's a new awareness between the two girls, however, which floods Cameron with pleasure and confusion when things suddenly take an unexpected turn.
There's nothing to know about a kiss like that before you do it. It was all action and reaction, the way her lips were salty and she tasted like root beer. The way I felt sort of dizzy the whole time. If it had been that one kiss, then it would have been just the dare, and that would have been no different than anything we'd done before. But after that kiss, as we leaned against the crates, a yellow jacket swooping and arcing over some spilled pop, Irene kissed me again.
Later, the girls talk about how they'd get in trouble if anyone found out.
Even though no one had ever told me, specifically, not to kiss a girl before, nobody had to. It was guys and girls who kissed--in our grade, on TV, in the movies, in the world; and that's how it worked, guys and girls. Anything else was something weird.
Shortly afterwards, Cameron's parents die in a car crash and she's sent to live with her conservative Aunt Ruth in the small town of Miles City, Montana, where she does her best to fit in and forget what happened before. So when beautiful Coley Taylor arrives on the scene, it spells trouble in a big way--and things spiral out of control in Cameron's world when she is sent off to God's Promise, a Christian de-gaying camp. (The author addresses this very frankly in most of the interviews I've seen, so I'm assuming it's not a spoiler to include that info here.) Here, she is to learn "appropriate gender roles" and refrain from "negative bonding over sinful/unhealthy desires."
I wasn't sure what to expect with this novel, so it was a relief to find it doesn't feel at all heavy-handed. I've realized recently that the problem I have with so many Message Books is that you can so clearly tell the author set out with an agenda and just filled in additional details to make a story. However, The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a fully realized novel in every way, and if Cameron weren't gay, it would still be a well-crafted, well-written story with an immensely appealing protagonist...even if she's not always completely likable. But I sort of like that about her, you know? Because most of us were pretty unbearable as teenagers, and I found her prickliness and defiance to be sympathetic and very real.
Fair warning that Cameron is just as likely to tell you to eff off as she is to bum a smoke off you, though. For even though there are beautiful moments of stillness and jumbled, joyous images of childhood (Cameron puts a piece of flourite in her mouth at one point so she can taste its hardness and grit, which is something I totally did as a kid), there are also frank sexual situations, marijuana use, shoplifting, and all kinds of other things that might normally drive me up the wall when they're casually included in your typical YA book.
But this isn't a fluffy young adult novel at all, and it's easy to understand why Cameron acts out as she tries to figure out who she is under extremely difficult circumstances. Not to mention that her feelings are not at all unusual; Cameron's confusion and longing during the prom scene when Coley dances with someone else is that stuff of universal loneliness and despair. As a reader, it also hurt unbearably to read about Mark Turner, son of a preacher from a mega church in Nebraska, who is the "poster boy for a Christian upbringing, but yet here he was, at Promise, just like the rest of us." Mark's struggles with his faith and his natural impulses are devastating to witness, and it's a brutal reminder that there are sometimes terrible consequences when we ignore what's right in the name of what's righteous.
I appreciated how honestly teenage sex and experimentation were portrayed, in a way that didn't feel tacky or sensationalized. And I appreciated the restraint with which this enormously touchy subject was handled. I found myself getting very angry as I read the book--it's hard not to when you see a child being told unequivocally that he's going to hell for what he feels--but the story is remarkably even-handed. While Cameron is defiant and angry over her containment, as most of the kids are, the few harsh words about the program include "I'm just saying that sometimes you can end up really messing somebody up because the way you're trying to supposedly help them is really messed up." Instead of using this platform to rant or rage, the author simply allows us to get to know Cameron and provides the framework for the question: after reading this girl's story, which is the story of so many girls and boys just like her, can anyone deny the validity of her feelings?
The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a fierce book that boldly explores identity, sexuality, and human responsibility in a relatable way, even as it demands attention from your social conscience and reaches out for your empathy. Even with such a hot-button topic, however, it somehow manages to refrain from outright condemnation of those who oppose its views. It's a shame that twenty years after the events of this book, this type of tolerance is still not entirely a two-way street.
Recommended for mature teens and adults only.
About the Book
The author was partially inspired by the true story of a 16-year-old boy who said he was being sent to a de-gaying camp in Tennessee. Read more about this in the author's Slate interview with author Curtis Sittenfeld.
Emily Danforth also has a deleted scene from the book on her website.
This review also appears in The Midnight Garden.
It was the kind of heat where a breeze feels like someone's venting a dryer over the town, whipping dust and making the cottonseeds from the big cottonwoods float across a wide blue sky and collect in soft tufts on neighborhood lawns. Irene and I called it summer snow, and sometimes we'd squint into the dry glare and try to catch cotton on our tongues.
It's a pleasure to be lulled into the slow rhythm of the author's words and to enjoy the moments of stillness and spontaneity throughout the entire story. As the novel begins, Cameron's parents have gone off on their annual camping trip, and she's spending the summer with her best friend Irene, eating too-big scoops of ice cream and strawberry pretzel salad, freezing wet shirts to keep cool, telling stories, and watching the twilight creep over the town. There's a new awareness between the two girls, however, which floods Cameron with pleasure and confusion when things suddenly take an unexpected turn.
There's nothing to know about a kiss like that before you do it. It was all action and reaction, the way her lips were salty and she tasted like root beer. The way I felt sort of dizzy the whole time. If it had been that one kiss, then it would have been just the dare, and that would have been no different than anything we'd done before. But after that kiss, as we leaned against the crates, a yellow jacket swooping and arcing over some spilled pop, Irene kissed me again.
Later, the girls talk about how they'd get in trouble if anyone found out.
Even though no one had ever told me, specifically, not to kiss a girl before, nobody had to. It was guys and girls who kissed--in our grade, on TV, in the movies, in the world; and that's how it worked, guys and girls. Anything else was something weird.
Shortly afterwards, Cameron's parents die in a car crash and she's sent to live with her conservative Aunt Ruth in the small town of Miles City, Montana, where she does her best to fit in and forget what happened before. So when beautiful Coley Taylor arrives on the scene, it spells trouble in a big way--and things spiral out of control in Cameron's world when she is sent off to God's Promise, a Christian de-gaying camp. (The author addresses this very frankly in most of the interviews I've seen, so I'm assuming it's not a spoiler to include that info here.) Here, she is to learn "appropriate gender roles" and refrain from "negative bonding over sinful/unhealthy desires."
I wasn't sure what to expect with this novel, so it was a relief to find it doesn't feel at all heavy-handed. I've realized recently that the problem I have with so many Message Books is that you can so clearly tell the author set out with an agenda and just filled in additional details to make a story. However, The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a fully realized novel in every way, and if Cameron weren't gay, it would still be a well-crafted, well-written story with an immensely appealing protagonist...even if she's not always completely likable. But I sort of like that about her, you know? Because most of us were pretty unbearable as teenagers, and I found her prickliness and defiance to be sympathetic and very real.
Fair warning that Cameron is just as likely to tell you to eff off as she is to bum a smoke off you, though. For even though there are beautiful moments of stillness and jumbled, joyous images of childhood (Cameron puts a piece of flourite in her mouth at one point so she can taste its hardness and grit, which is something I totally did as a kid), there are also frank sexual situations, marijuana use, shoplifting, and all kinds of other things that might normally drive me up the wall when they're casually included in your typical YA book.
But this isn't a fluffy young adult novel at all, and it's easy to understand why Cameron acts out as she tries to figure out who she is under extremely difficult circumstances. Not to mention that her feelings are not at all unusual; Cameron's confusion and longing during the prom scene when Coley dances with someone else is that stuff of universal loneliness and despair. As a reader, it also hurt unbearably to read about Mark Turner, son of a preacher from a mega church in Nebraska, who is the "poster boy for a Christian upbringing, but yet here he was, at Promise, just like the rest of us." Mark's struggles with his faith and his natural impulses are devastating to witness, and it's a brutal reminder that there are sometimes terrible consequences when we ignore what's right in the name of what's righteous.
I appreciated how honestly teenage sex and experimentation were portrayed, in a way that didn't feel tacky or sensationalized. And I appreciated the restraint with which this enormously touchy subject was handled. I found myself getting very angry as I read the book--it's hard not to when you see a child being told unequivocally that he's going to hell for what he feels--but the story is remarkably even-handed. While Cameron is defiant and angry over her containment, as most of the kids are, the few harsh words about the program include "I'm just saying that sometimes you can end up really messing somebody up because the way you're trying to supposedly help them is really messed up." Instead of using this platform to rant or rage, the author simply allows us to get to know Cameron and provides the framework for the question: after reading this girl's story, which is the story of so many girls and boys just like her, can anyone deny the validity of her feelings?
The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a fierce book that boldly explores identity, sexuality, and human responsibility in a relatable way, even as it demands attention from your social conscience and reaches out for your empathy. Even with such a hot-button topic, however, it somehow manages to refrain from outright condemnation of those who oppose its views. It's a shame that twenty years after the events of this book, this type of tolerance is still not entirely a two-way street.
Recommended for mature teens and adults only.
About the Book
The author was partially inspired by the true story of a 16-year-old boy who said he was being sent to a de-gaying camp in Tennessee. Read more about this in the author's Slate interview with author Curtis Sittenfeld.
Emily Danforth also has a deleted scene from the book on her website.
This review also appears in The Midnight Garden.
August 8, 2018
This was a book that I *wanted* to like far more than I actually did. I'm a bookseller and I was hoping that this might be the contemporary title to hand to girls instead of (or in addition to) My Most Excellent Year or Will Grayson, Will Grayson, both of which are wonderful novels that feature boys who come out.
***************Spoiler Warning*********************
One summer day, Cameron and her best friend Irene stave off boredom by shoplifting and making out with each other; later that night, Cameron learns that both of her parents died in a car crash and her first thought is one of relief for not getting caught for either of those activities. Guilt kicks in, her religious Aunt Ruth moves in to take care of her, and Irene leaves for boarding school back East. Mostly Cameron fills her time with swim team and hanging out with a gang of boys drinking and smoking pot and doing mildly destructive things, but now she's also involved with a youth group in an ultra-conservative megachurch of Aunt Ruth's choosing. Then drop-dead gorgeous cowgirl Coley comes to town and Cameron falls in love with her; eventually they start making out every chance they get, which builds to one scene in particular,after which Coley reports Cameron to their pastor as an instigator and manipulator of unnatural sexual activity. Aunt Ruth sends Cameron away to a conservative Christian school where they basically try to pray the gay out of her. She loses her right to privacy and endures daily one-on-one sessions (later, group sessions) with the quasi-therapists at the school, but luckily she falls in with Jane and Adam who know how to talk the talk with their teachers without actually giving in to the brainwashing sessions. Something bad happens to one of the students. Then Cameron, Jane, and Adam escape. End of story. We have no actual idea of what happens to them after that point.
****************End of Spoiler***********************
One of my biggest problem with this book is that I think it's overwritten to the tune of about 150 pages. Cameron just wasn't interesting enough and her "issues" just not compelling enough to draw out her story that much. I did a ton of skimming. I thought that the dialogue itself was pretty good, as were the passages of teen interactions. But I think the author does a disservice to her readers for not being more condemning of schools like the one to which Cameron was exiled. Not to mention the fact that Cameron herself doesn't seem to think that the place is all that bad. No, she doesn't like it, but she pretty regularly lets the therapists off the hook because she knows that they really *believe* that gayness is a sin that can be cured, and that didn't make sense to me considering the rage that Cameron is occasionally described as having but rarely shown to the reader.
But my biggest concern with this novel is that it doesn't make it clear enough that schools like the one Cameron is sent away to are unacceptable, full stop, no exceptions. And that, to me, is the most dangerous thing in this book.
***************Spoiler Warning*********************
One summer day, Cameron and her best friend Irene stave off boredom by shoplifting and making out with each other; later that night, Cameron learns that both of her parents died in a car crash and her first thought is one of relief for not getting caught for either of those activities. Guilt kicks in, her religious Aunt Ruth moves in to take care of her, and Irene leaves for boarding school back East. Mostly Cameron fills her time with swim team and hanging out with a gang of boys drinking and smoking pot and doing mildly destructive things, but now she's also involved with a youth group in an ultra-conservative megachurch of Aunt Ruth's choosing. Then drop-dead gorgeous cowgirl Coley comes to town and Cameron falls in love with her; eventually they start making out every chance they get, which builds to one scene in particular,after which Coley reports Cameron to their pastor as an instigator and manipulator of unnatural sexual activity. Aunt Ruth sends Cameron away to a conservative Christian school where they basically try to pray the gay out of her. She loses her right to privacy and endures daily one-on-one sessions (later, group sessions) with the quasi-therapists at the school, but luckily she falls in with Jane and Adam who know how to talk the talk with their teachers without actually giving in to the brainwashing sessions. Something bad happens to one of the students. Then Cameron, Jane, and Adam escape. End of story. We have no actual idea of what happens to them after that point.
****************End of Spoiler***********************
One of my biggest problem with this book is that I think it's overwritten to the tune of about 150 pages. Cameron just wasn't interesting enough and her "issues" just not compelling enough to draw out her story that much. I did a ton of skimming. I thought that the dialogue itself was pretty good, as were the passages of teen interactions. But I think the author does a disservice to her readers for not being more condemning of schools like the one to which Cameron was exiled. Not to mention the fact that Cameron herself doesn't seem to think that the place is all that bad. No, she doesn't like it, but she pretty regularly lets the therapists off the hook because she knows that they really *believe* that gayness is a sin that can be cured, and that didn't make sense to me considering the rage that Cameron is occasionally described as having but rarely shown to the reader.
But my biggest concern with this novel is that it doesn't make it clear enough that schools like the one Cameron is sent away to are unacceptable, full stop, no exceptions. And that, to me, is the most dangerous thing in this book.
April 25, 2018
Re-Read with Sapphic Squad 🦋💖
I stand by my original review for this one! It's important and well-written, but also a very difficult read.
---------------
4 Stars
Overview:
You ever read a book that just feels too real?
Like everything starts fine, but then the narrative starts vocalizing feelings you’ve tried to place before? And before you know it you’re completely immersed and trying to understand why your chest aches?
That was this book for me. It’s gorgeously written, and parts of this hit me hard.
Aside: As powerful as this story is, it can be very triggering within the LGBT+ community. Not sure where to say that, but I haven’t seen it mentioned and I think it should be.
Pros:
The antagonists aren’t demons.
Instead, they are fleshed-out characters, with their own quirks, motivations and mistakes. Instead of simply committing horrible crimes in the name of revenge or power—they honestly believe they’re doing the right thing.
I don’t know about you, but to me that’s terrifying. And it was expertly handled.
This is hyper-realistic and really reads like an autobiography. (It is an own-voices novel and shows)
Emily M. Danforth truly knows how to set a scene, and everything from the gorgeous descriptions of Montana summers to the minute details of Cam’s day reflect this. The pace is very gradually and overall incredibly atmospheric.
The characters are never explored completely, but instead we sort of receive snapshots of them at specific points This was very interesting to me, especially since the characters were fairly diverse and dynamic.
Cons:
This is sloooooooowwwwwww
It seems weird I would put that under Cons and Pros, but it’s the truth. It’s one of the strong points, but it can also be very detracting. Sometimes it was hard to reach for this book when I knew I was going to get pages and pages of daily activates and descriptions.
This is somewhat overstuffed with drug usage, alcohol and sexual situations all involving very young individuals. It gave the book a realistic vibe and was always handled in a way that felt true to the characters, but again—made it hard to reach for.
There’s not a lot of resolution for anything. The ending just sort of happens, and I'm not sure how to feel about it.
In Conclusion:
As engrossing as this was for me, it’s interesting it wasn’t a 5-Star read. But I think at 500+ pages it might have all been a bit much without really reaching a clear conclusion.
I created a new shelf because of this book: Best-Books-I-Never-Want-To-Re-Read.
I stand by my original review for this one! It's important and well-written, but also a very difficult read.
---------------
4 Stars
Overview:
“Maybe I still haven't become me. I don't know how you tell for sure when you finally have.”
You ever read a book that just feels too real?
Like everything starts fine, but then the narrative starts vocalizing feelings you’ve tried to place before? And before you know it you’re completely immersed and trying to understand why your chest aches?
That was this book for me. It’s gorgeously written, and parts of this hit me hard.
Aside: As powerful as this story is, it can be very triggering within the LGBT+ community. Not sure where to say that, but I haven’t seen it mentioned and I think it should be.
Pros:
The antagonists aren’t demons.
Instead, they are fleshed-out characters, with their own quirks, motivations and mistakes. Instead of simply committing horrible crimes in the name of revenge or power—they honestly believe they’re doing the right thing.
I don’t know about you, but to me that’s terrifying. And it was expertly handled.
This is hyper-realistic and really reads like an autobiography. (It is an own-voices novel and shows)
Emily M. Danforth truly knows how to set a scene, and everything from the gorgeous descriptions of Montana summers to the minute details of Cam’s day reflect this. The pace is very gradually and overall incredibly atmospheric.
The characters are never explored completely, but instead we sort of receive snapshots of them at specific points This was very interesting to me, especially since the characters were fairly diverse and dynamic.
Cons:
This is sloooooooowwwwwww
It seems weird I would put that under Cons and Pros, but it’s the truth. It’s one of the strong points, but it can also be very detracting. Sometimes it was hard to reach for this book when I knew I was going to get pages and pages of daily activates and descriptions.
This is somewhat overstuffed with drug usage, alcohol and sexual situations all involving very young individuals. It gave the book a realistic vibe and was always handled in a way that felt true to the characters, but again—made it hard to reach for.
There’s not a lot of resolution for anything. The ending just sort of happens, and I'm not sure how to feel about it.
In Conclusion:
As engrossing as this was for me, it’s interesting it wasn’t a 5-Star read. But I think at 500+ pages it might have all been a bit much without really reaching a clear conclusion.
I created a new shelf because of this book: Best-Books-I-Never-Want-To-Re-Read.
November 3, 2020
cameron post protection squad 2020. this book made me feel like i was in the montana summer, it was so vivid. what i thought would be a tragic book about conversion therapy camp was actually a lot more heartfelt and funny than that (but still infuriating and upsetting, don't get me wrong). I can't wait to watch the movie and see how they tackled it.
July 3, 2024
First of all: every girl she became friends with was queer. Like how? I would like to know her secret.
The book itself is unreasonably long.
Cameron felt responsible for her parents death because she thought that was the punishment for kissing a girl, so she stopped being friends with her childhood best friend (who she kissed). But this guilt was never mentioned again. She just stopped being friends with her and kissed other girls instead like nothing happened. ? Yeah, I'll never understand that. But I wish they got some closure at the end. And anyways, what's better than falling in love with your friend who you already know well?
The "main" realationship was disgusting. And not just because it was really fustrating that she kissed every girl she became friends with, but because it was based on cheating. I don't care if you are closeted, cheating is cheating and if you are messing with someone's realationship, especially if the third person is innocent, you are disgusting. You both are.
They were actually excited for the summer when the boyfriend finally went to some camp. I wanted to vomit.
Then when her aunt sent her to conversion therapy (even if she knew in her head that it's bad) she acted like she was on a holiday and treated her family the same. Don't even try to convince me that a normal person wouldn't scream and kick and run. I understand when someone is raised in a cult and is afraid, that's a whole another story, but Cameron had nothing to be afraid of. She was just like all right, I'll go. Why did I feel more offended and hurt on her behalf than she did?
Her breakdown could have been really impactful. The emotions (anger, sadness, hatred, fear, guilt) could have been growing inside her until they exploded. But she didn't even felt a thing. She just lived like fish in the water and decided out of thin air she has to escape when someone else had a mental breakdown. A really bad one. Now, that boy went through some serious shit and I would have rather read a book about him, because that was the only part I actually felt something.
This whole book should have been disturbing, but it clearly wasn't. It was just bad. And annoying.
If you want to read an upsetting religious lgbt book, I recommend Autoboyography. Watch some Dear Mr Atheist video about mormonism before, if you want to maximise the experience.
That book broke me. Into pieces.
Also, my most recent read with the same promise to this one, but with a way better execution: Orpheus Girl. It literally gave me a cult nightmare.
The book itself is unreasonably long.
Cameron felt responsible for her parents death because she thought that was the punishment for kissing a girl, so she stopped being friends with her childhood best friend (who she kissed). But this guilt was never mentioned again. She just stopped being friends with her and kissed other girls instead like nothing happened. ? Yeah, I'll never understand that. But I wish they got some closure at the end. And anyways, what's better than falling in love with your friend who you already know well?
The "main" realationship was disgusting. And not just because it was really fustrating that she kissed every girl she became friends with, but because it was based on cheating. I don't care if you are closeted, cheating is cheating and if you are messing with someone's realationship, especially if the third person is innocent, you are disgusting. You both are.
They were actually excited for the summer when the boyfriend finally went to some camp. I wanted to vomit.
Then when her aunt sent her to conversion therapy (even if she knew in her head that it's bad) she acted like she was on a holiday and treated her family the same. Don't even try to convince me that a normal person wouldn't scream and kick and run. I understand when someone is raised in a cult and is afraid, that's a whole another story, but Cameron had nothing to be afraid of. She was just like all right, I'll go. Why did I feel more offended and hurt on her behalf than she did?
Her breakdown could have been really impactful. The emotions (anger, sadness, hatred, fear, guilt) could have been growing inside her until they exploded. But she didn't even felt a thing. She just lived like fish in the water and decided out of thin air she has to escape when someone else had a mental breakdown. A really bad one. Now, that boy went through some serious shit and I would have rather read a book about him, because that was the only part I actually felt something.
This whole book should have been disturbing, but it clearly wasn't. It was just bad. And annoying.
If you want to read an upsetting religious lgbt book, I recommend Autoboyography. Watch some Dear Mr Atheist video about mormonism before, if you want to maximise the experience.
That book broke me. Into pieces.
Also, my most recent read with the same promise to this one, but with a way better execution: Orpheus Girl. It literally gave me a cult nightmare.
May 14, 2019
The first half of Cameron Post is set in Montana in the ‘90s, and is, at least at first glance, slow and plodding. Indeed, most of the novel is specifically written as a typical coming-of-age novel; Cameron is a typical ‘90s teenage character who (stop me if you’ve heard this before) has lost her parent, smokes and drinks, and falls in with wrong crowds. She is a normal teenager, that is, until she has the audacity to kiss her best friend Coley.
The second half of Cameron Post takes place at a conversion therapy camp where Cameron has been sent by her aunt, after Coley reports to her parents that Cameron has forced herself upon her (their relationship has been entirely consensual). Cameron is blindsided, and betrayed, and increasingly reluctant to admit that to the audience — we see her as closed off and numb. She barbs at her aunt and rarely, if ever, exhibits any kind of character breakdown, making her progression hard to see. But her coming-of-age is inextricably wound with her accepting of herself as a lesbian, despite the hate she has been taught to have for herself.
Cameron’s journey, thus, mostly surrounds internalized homophobia. In her first encounter with Coley, she puts words to the alienation: “Even though no one had ever told me, specifically, not to kiss a girl before, nobody had to. It was guys and girls who kissed in our grade, on TV, in the movies, in the world, and that's how it worked: guys and girls. Anything else was something weird.” Even in a world where queerness is more accepted, being queer is fundamentally alienating: you learn that you are other, and so you must make your experience consumable for others. Straight people are people; we are other.
The second half of this text is incredibly painful to read; Aunt Ruth’s oddly well-intentioned homophobia is painful, because it comes so close to sounding rational. Even Cameron is caught up: “I felt like it could be that God had made this happen, had killed my parents, because I was living my life so wrong that I had to be punished, that I had to be made to understand how I must change, and that Ruth was right, that I had to change through God.” She learns to hate herself quickly because society has already taught her to hate herself: conversion therapy just extends it. When Cameron finally realizes, with the help of other queer people at the camp, that she is not the problem, she tells the audience this:
Cameron Post does not end on a happy takedown of the camp and all its ideals: rather, The homophobes in this book do not change their minds. The development is all in Cameron herself. “Maybe I still haven't become me. I don't know how you tell for sure when you finally have,” Cameron tells us at the end. Problems are not gone, but she finally understands that she is not the problem.
There's a lot about this book that shines, honestly. Danforth's characterization is consistent and multidimensional; Cameron is a believable protagonist, unsure of herself but wanting to be, and with a strong internal voice. This strength of characterization applies across the board. The antagonists are as believable and complex as they are terrifying; I feel as if I know Aunt Ruth, and she terrifies me with her odd blend of well-intentioned homophobia. I also appreciated the gorgeous depictions of the Montana setting. I also actually think the conversion therapy section does a fairly good job skirting away from being torture porn; it has a clear point at all times.
Essentially I only have two negatives about this book: 1) despite the worthy first section, it is just a bit too long. At least a hundred pages could've been cut here; descriptions of the setting can't keep me interested forever. 2) several comments made by Cameron and friends are somewhat biphobic and not criticized; I think it's meant to echo the '90s, but in such a deep-into-human-psyche book, it's just out of place and I struggle to respect it.
But overall, I would highly recommend this - it is worth the read.
TW: severe homophobia and transphobia, conversion therapy.
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The second half of Cameron Post takes place at a conversion therapy camp where Cameron has been sent by her aunt, after Coley reports to her parents that Cameron has forced herself upon her (their relationship has been entirely consensual). Cameron is blindsided, and betrayed, and increasingly reluctant to admit that to the audience — we see her as closed off and numb. She barbs at her aunt and rarely, if ever, exhibits any kind of character breakdown, making her progression hard to see. But her coming-of-age is inextricably wound with her accepting of herself as a lesbian, despite the hate she has been taught to have for herself.
Cameron’s journey, thus, mostly surrounds internalized homophobia. In her first encounter with Coley, she puts words to the alienation: “Even though no one had ever told me, specifically, not to kiss a girl before, nobody had to. It was guys and girls who kissed in our grade, on TV, in the movies, in the world, and that's how it worked: guys and girls. Anything else was something weird.” Even in a world where queerness is more accepted, being queer is fundamentally alienating: you learn that you are other, and so you must make your experience consumable for others. Straight people are people; we are other.
The second half of this text is incredibly painful to read; Aunt Ruth’s oddly well-intentioned homophobia is painful, because it comes so close to sounding rational. Even Cameron is caught up: “I felt like it could be that God had made this happen, had killed my parents, because I was living my life so wrong that I had to be punished, that I had to be made to understand how I must change, and that Ruth was right, that I had to change through God.” She learns to hate herself quickly because society has already taught her to hate herself: conversion therapy just extends it. When Cameron finally realizes, with the help of other queer people at the camp, that she is not the problem, she tells the audience this:
“It’s supposed to convince you that you’re always gonna be a dirty sinner and that it’s completely your fault because you’re not trying hard enough to change yourself.”
Cameron Post does not end on a happy takedown of the camp and all its ideals: rather, The homophobes in this book do not change their minds. The development is all in Cameron herself. “Maybe I still haven't become me. I don't know how you tell for sure when you finally have,” Cameron tells us at the end. Problems are not gone, but she finally understands that she is not the problem.
There's a lot about this book that shines, honestly. Danforth's characterization is consistent and multidimensional; Cameron is a believable protagonist, unsure of herself but wanting to be, and with a strong internal voice. This strength of characterization applies across the board. The antagonists are as believable and complex as they are terrifying; I feel as if I know Aunt Ruth, and she terrifies me with her odd blend of well-intentioned homophobia. I also appreciated the gorgeous depictions of the Montana setting. I also actually think the conversion therapy section does a fairly good job skirting away from being torture porn; it has a clear point at all times.
Essentially I only have two negatives about this book: 1) despite the worthy first section, it is just a bit too long. At least a hundred pages could've been cut here; descriptions of the setting can't keep me interested forever. 2) several comments made by Cameron and friends are somewhat biphobic and not criticized; I think it's meant to echo the '90s, but in such a deep-into-human-psyche book, it's just out of place and I struggle to respect it.
But overall, I would highly recommend this - it is worth the read.
TW: severe homophobia and transphobia, conversion therapy.
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November 21, 2018
I sympathized with Cameron Post, the protagonist of this book, quickly. When her parents die in a car accident, Cameron's first thought isn't horror, or denial, or anger. It's relief. Relief that they would never know she had just kissed a girl a few hours earlier. As a result of the accident Cam moves in with her conservative, super religious Aunt Ruth along with her grandmother. Life floats by smoothly enough in her small Southern town until Cam meets Coley Taylor, a fierce, beautiful, and supposedly straight cowgirl. Cam's friendship with Coley develops into something intense and unexpected, something that could leave room for more. But when Aunt Ruth finds out about Cam and her "homosexual tendencies", she sends her away and forces her to find out who she really is - and to confront the demons of her past and her future.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post is unlike any book I've read before. Yes, it's a coming-of-age story, but it's about a gay girl growing up in Montana (in the 90's). Emily Danforth describes the rural atmosphere perfectly, capturing the heat and the humidity as well as the cool night air. Her writing made this book work - she included several descriptions, similes, and metaphors that may have spun out of control if any other author had tried to write the book. There was one passage later on in the novel about those sticky-hand toys we all played with in the past; when I read that paragraph, I felt like Danforth somehow knew how I felt about those toys. Her writing elucidated a keen eye for detail and a control of that detail in her descriptions.
What made this book beautiful for me was its quality as a bildungsroman. Here's a part one of the many passages that I adored:
But I didn't have any of that faith, and I didn't know where to get it, how to get it, or even if I wanted it right then. I felt like it could be that God had made this happen, had killed my parents, because I was living my life so wrong that I had to be punished, that I had to be made to understand how I must change, and that Ruth was right, that I had to change through God. But I also thought, at the exact same time I was thinking the other stuff, that maybe what all this meant was that there was no God, but instead only fate and the chain of events that is, for each of us, predetermined.
Cameron's journey from a child to a young adult didn't feel preachy, pretentious, or too prolonged. She makes mistakes, contemplates life, falls in and out of love, and basically lives like a real yet somehow extraordinary human being. She's frank and sometimes feisty, but that voice won me over. There were themes that ran throughout the novel, but none of them took center stage over her development as a character.
My review can be summarized in two questions. Is Cameron Post a bad role model? Maybe. Is she an honest girl with a fighting heart who I wish teens would read about and emulate? Definitely.
*review cross-posted on my blog, the quiet voice.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post is unlike any book I've read before. Yes, it's a coming-of-age story, but it's about a gay girl growing up in Montana (in the 90's). Emily Danforth describes the rural atmosphere perfectly, capturing the heat and the humidity as well as the cool night air. Her writing made this book work - she included several descriptions, similes, and metaphors that may have spun out of control if any other author had tried to write the book. There was one passage later on in the novel about those sticky-hand toys we all played with in the past; when I read that paragraph, I felt like Danforth somehow knew how I felt about those toys. Her writing elucidated a keen eye for detail and a control of that detail in her descriptions.
What made this book beautiful for me was its quality as a bildungsroman. Here's a part one of the many passages that I adored:
But I didn't have any of that faith, and I didn't know where to get it, how to get it, or even if I wanted it right then. I felt like it could be that God had made this happen, had killed my parents, because I was living my life so wrong that I had to be punished, that I had to be made to understand how I must change, and that Ruth was right, that I had to change through God. But I also thought, at the exact same time I was thinking the other stuff, that maybe what all this meant was that there was no God, but instead only fate and the chain of events that is, for each of us, predetermined.
Cameron's journey from a child to a young adult didn't feel preachy, pretentious, or too prolonged. She makes mistakes, contemplates life, falls in and out of love, and basically lives like a real yet somehow extraordinary human being. She's frank and sometimes feisty, but that voice won me over. There were themes that ran throughout the novel, but none of them took center stage over her development as a character.
My review can be summarized in two questions. Is Cameron Post a bad role model? Maybe. Is she an honest girl with a fighting heart who I wish teens would read about and emulate? Definitely.
*review cross-posted on my blog, the quiet voice.
dnf
June 19, 2012DNF - pg 212
The Miseducation of Cameron Post starts by painting a beautiful picture of rural Montana and childhood, but is too long a novel in my opinion. My interest at the start quickly waned as the story became dragged out by periods of extremely slow pacing towards the middle. Eventually, I no longer wished to spend any more time with Cameron and her troubles.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post starts by painting a beautiful picture of rural Montana and childhood, but is too long a novel in my opinion. My interest at the start quickly waned as the story became dragged out by periods of extremely slow pacing towards the middle. Eventually, I no longer wished to spend any more time with Cameron and her troubles.
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September 3, 2024While this is classified as YA it could easily just be called “literature” it’s so good
December 15, 2013
Rating: 4.5 Stars
I rarely come across books that I cannot review; that leave me speechless, both in mind and body. Kristin Cashore's Fire is a novel I've re-read numerous times, but I can never - never - convey the depth of emotion that novel inspires in me, despite the fact that I can quote from it. Within the past month, however, I've been lucky enough to read two remarkable LGBT novels for teens, both of which have left me spell-bound and speechless. And, truly, I have tried, time and time again, to write reviews for these novels. I want to write reviews for these books because they deserve reviews and they deserve to be read and mulled over and cherished on a shelf. Yet, the words fail me. In a desperate attempt, I have tried to string together a few phrases, a couple of sentences, in an effort to spread my love for these two novels. Even if these non-reviews don't convince you, I certainly hope that someone, someday, will thrust these into your hands and make you read them. It's worth it.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post by emily danforth is a novel I've been meaning to read for a long time - a very long time. It went onto my TBR even before it was released because of the acclaim it received and, even after winning an award, it went unread on my Kindle. I don't know why. It is a quiet, moving, and utterly fierce novel. It’s the type of story that creeps up on you; the prose keeps you flipping the pages, but it isn’t until much later that the full emotional impact finally hits. At somewhere around the 80% mark, tears leaked from my eyes; slowly, and then all at once, pouring out at speeds I couldn’t even have imagined. You see, this is a story of one girl's struggle to reconcile her sexuality and, although the narration can drag and even become dull at parts, it is incredibly moving all the same. Cameron's life, full of a multitude of sexual encounters, define her, slowly but surely, and the themes of feminism - of encouraging women to be proud of their sexuality and unafraid to stand up for it - is astounding.
Nevertheless, this novel truly gutted me in its historical depiction. danforth's debut is set in the late 1900s and, as such, the LGBT movement isn't as prevalent as it is today. In Cameron's small town, a religious and conservative area, her identity as a lesbian is looked at as a sin. As such, she is sent to a religious camp over the summer in an effort to "cure" her. It doesn't really hit you, until you meet the teens at this camp, the type of behavior they've had to put up with all their lives. Everyone, from their parents to their teachers, are telling these teens that they are wrong, that they are bad, that they are horrible for loving someone who isn't of the opposite sex and the manner in which this is conveyed - the events that occur at this camp - just destroyed me. I've never considered the LGBT community in this manner before and, truly, danforth's debut is not only inspiring and feminist, but eye-opening as well. It isn't merely the journey of a girl, it is the journey and struggle of people everywhere, homosexual or heterosexual. It demands to be read. Much like The Book Thief, this is one book you're better off just experiencing - words do it no justice.
You can read this review an more on my blog, Ivy Book Bindings.
I rarely come across books that I cannot review; that leave me speechless, both in mind and body. Kristin Cashore's Fire is a novel I've re-read numerous times, but I can never - never - convey the depth of emotion that novel inspires in me, despite the fact that I can quote from it. Within the past month, however, I've been lucky enough to read two remarkable LGBT novels for teens, both of which have left me spell-bound and speechless. And, truly, I have tried, time and time again, to write reviews for these novels. I want to write reviews for these books because they deserve reviews and they deserve to be read and mulled over and cherished on a shelf. Yet, the words fail me. In a desperate attempt, I have tried to string together a few phrases, a couple of sentences, in an effort to spread my love for these two novels. Even if these non-reviews don't convince you, I certainly hope that someone, someday, will thrust these into your hands and make you read them. It's worth it.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post by emily danforth is a novel I've been meaning to read for a long time - a very long time. It went onto my TBR even before it was released because of the acclaim it received and, even after winning an award, it went unread on my Kindle. I don't know why. It is a quiet, moving, and utterly fierce novel. It’s the type of story that creeps up on you; the prose keeps you flipping the pages, but it isn’t until much later that the full emotional impact finally hits. At somewhere around the 80% mark, tears leaked from my eyes; slowly, and then all at once, pouring out at speeds I couldn’t even have imagined. You see, this is a story of one girl's struggle to reconcile her sexuality and, although the narration can drag and even become dull at parts, it is incredibly moving all the same. Cameron's life, full of a multitude of sexual encounters, define her, slowly but surely, and the themes of feminism - of encouraging women to be proud of their sexuality and unafraid to stand up for it - is astounding.
Nevertheless, this novel truly gutted me in its historical depiction. danforth's debut is set in the late 1900s and, as such, the LGBT movement isn't as prevalent as it is today. In Cameron's small town, a religious and conservative area, her identity as a lesbian is looked at as a sin. As such, she is sent to a religious camp over the summer in an effort to "cure" her. It doesn't really hit you, until you meet the teens at this camp, the type of behavior they've had to put up with all their lives. Everyone, from their parents to their teachers, are telling these teens that they are wrong, that they are bad, that they are horrible for loving someone who isn't of the opposite sex and the manner in which this is conveyed - the events that occur at this camp - just destroyed me. I've never considered the LGBT community in this manner before and, truly, danforth's debut is not only inspiring and feminist, but eye-opening as well. It isn't merely the journey of a girl, it is the journey and struggle of people everywhere, homosexual or heterosexual. It demands to be read. Much like The Book Thief, this is one book you're better off just experiencing - words do it no justice.
You can read this review an more on my blog, Ivy Book Bindings.
December 7, 2016
Despite a fictional work, it felt like I was reading a memoir or at least a diary of Danforth using the name Cameron Post. Because it was so REAL and OBVIOUS to me! What with the fact in the author's note: "She lives with her wife bla bla bla". So don't blame me for my assuming.
I like almost everything about this book even though in some parts I got bored because I was just too tired to read ( I was so busy lately). The beginning already caught my attention. Man, how could you handle such a terrible news. And you thought it was because of you.
I don't think I can.
This book is about accepting your self just the way you are, even when you're a lesbian. But Cameron lives with her conservative and religious (I must say) aunt Ruth who immediately sent her to Christian School & Center for Healing called God's Promise when she found out about her preference in love life. I personally against this kind of healing. Because this is how God has made us. There's nothing to change. Just be good with who you are and other people and that should be enough.
That's why I totally agree with what Cameron had said on this healing:
I like almost everything about this book even though in some parts I got bored because I was just too tired to read ( I was so busy lately). The beginning already caught my attention. Man, how could you handle such a terrible news. And you thought it was because of you.
"When Cameron Post's parents die suddenly in a car crash, her shocking first thought is relief. Relief they'll never know that, hours earlier, she had been kissing a girl."
I don't think I can.
This book is about accepting your self just the way you are, even when you're a lesbian. But Cameron lives with her conservative and religious (I must say) aunt Ruth who immediately sent her to Christian School & Center for Healing called God's Promise when she found out about her preference in love life. I personally against this kind of healing. Because this is how God has made us. There's nothing to change. Just be good with who you are and other people and that should be enough.
That's why I totally agree with what Cameron had said on this healing:
"The whole fucking purpose of this place is to make us hate ourselves so that we change. We're supposed to hate who we are, despise it."
February 8, 2019
The Miseducation of Cameron Post was a bit of a slow burn. At points I felt like there were too many unnecessary details of a daily routine that didn’t help to build the world of Cameron Post. It is a cliché, but sometimes less
IS
more and some decisive editing would have greatly helped the story. That being said, it doesn’t mean that this was not a good or important read.
The novel feels like an honest telling of what it is like to grow up and realise that you are attracted to people of the same sex or gender identity as you. I like that it started with Cameron’s first same-sex kiss when she was 12, and her certainty that it was wrong. Not because anyone told her it was wrong but because she had never seen anything other than the heteronormative relationships that are visible in everyday life. Even from childhood (just look at Disney or Pixar for example – there is only ever heteronormative relationships and if there is a hint of anything else people lose their minds!) it is embedded that only heteronormative relationships are normal. It felt like such an honest element of the realisation and one that it is important to remember, visibility matters!
Early on in the book there is a time when Cameron is exploring the concept of there being a language and a community that she would have access to as someone who liked girls. I thought this was a really interesting exploration and so very true, a lot of young LGBTQ+ people don’t have the language to express who they are because it is, in general, not mainstream and as much as labels are not always useful, it can be good to have the words you need to understand yourself before deciding if you need to label yourself at all – but you need to know the language before you do that.
One of the things that I found really interesting was the way that the novel approached the subject of faith, and the way that faith can be pushed upon people, particularly at times of hardship and grief, by others even with the best intentions. Also that even religions that appear to teach love and acceptance can be twisted and used as a weapon against people, even by those who are ultimately not bad people in the general sense. The author has brilliantly shown this without making the religious characters ridiculous, villainous caricatures. Instead they are people that believe, honestly, that they are doing the right thing (which in my opinion makes it all the more scary and real). The town where I grew up was a hub for born again Christians and the character of Aunt Ruth rang so true.
I think the importance of this story comes from bringing the work of conversion therapy and groups, which are a real fear for LGBTQ+ people and incredibly damaging, to light and tackling this is a really important step. It is powerful and difficult to read but it is truly important. The fact that in 2018 these therapies are still allowed because of the fear of impeding on someone’s religious freedom is more important than the basic rights, humanity and dignity of LGBTQ+ people is disgraceful and should be talked about. I would like to note at this point that I know that there are Christian people who believe the same thing and are big supporters of the LGBTQ+ community, and not all Christians should be judged on the actions of a few but it is impossible to deny that the mistreatment of the LGBTQ+ community has been carried out in the name of religions worldwide for a long time and denial of a history does not benefit anyone.
To sum up, I have given this book 3.5 stars because it is a good story and it is a hugely important LGBTQ+ narrative that should be out there. However, the story loses stars for me because of the problems with the pacing. It is a very slow burn and has a lot of details that don’t add the story or the building of characters and as a result I could see a lot of people struggling to get through the novel and maybe not finish it which is a shame because it is a good and important story. I would recommend that you read this novel but do go into it with an understanding that it is a tough subject and at times emotionally difficult to read – it is not aimed at the younger side of YA readers – but it is a very worthwhile read.
A big thank you to Netgalley and Penguin for the free copy of The Miseducation of Cameron Post in exchange for an unbiased review.
*********************************
Orginal Review
What an emotional read, I will post a full review tomorrow but for now I need some time to gather my thoughts on this book.
The novel feels like an honest telling of what it is like to grow up and realise that you are attracted to people of the same sex or gender identity as you. I like that it started with Cameron’s first same-sex kiss when she was 12, and her certainty that it was wrong. Not because anyone told her it was wrong but because she had never seen anything other than the heteronormative relationships that are visible in everyday life. Even from childhood (just look at Disney or Pixar for example – there is only ever heteronormative relationships and if there is a hint of anything else people lose their minds!) it is embedded that only heteronormative relationships are normal. It felt like such an honest element of the realisation and one that it is important to remember, visibility matters!
Early on in the book there is a time when Cameron is exploring the concept of there being a language and a community that she would have access to as someone who liked girls. I thought this was a really interesting exploration and so very true, a lot of young LGBTQ+ people don’t have the language to express who they are because it is, in general, not mainstream and as much as labels are not always useful, it can be good to have the words you need to understand yourself before deciding if you need to label yourself at all – but you need to know the language before you do that.
One of the things that I found really interesting was the way that the novel approached the subject of faith, and the way that faith can be pushed upon people, particularly at times of hardship and grief, by others even with the best intentions. Also that even religions that appear to teach love and acceptance can be twisted and used as a weapon against people, even by those who are ultimately not bad people in the general sense. The author has brilliantly shown this without making the religious characters ridiculous, villainous caricatures. Instead they are people that believe, honestly, that they are doing the right thing (which in my opinion makes it all the more scary and real). The town where I grew up was a hub for born again Christians and the character of Aunt Ruth rang so true.
I think the importance of this story comes from bringing the work of conversion therapy and groups, which are a real fear for LGBTQ+ people and incredibly damaging, to light and tackling this is a really important step. It is powerful and difficult to read but it is truly important. The fact that in 2018 these therapies are still allowed because of the fear of impeding on someone’s religious freedom is more important than the basic rights, humanity and dignity of LGBTQ+ people is disgraceful and should be talked about. I would like to note at this point that I know that there are Christian people who believe the same thing and are big supporters of the LGBTQ+ community, and not all Christians should be judged on the actions of a few but it is impossible to deny that the mistreatment of the LGBTQ+ community has been carried out in the name of religions worldwide for a long time and denial of a history does not benefit anyone.
To sum up, I have given this book 3.5 stars because it is a good story and it is a hugely important LGBTQ+ narrative that should be out there. However, the story loses stars for me because of the problems with the pacing. It is a very slow burn and has a lot of details that don’t add the story or the building of characters and as a result I could see a lot of people struggling to get through the novel and maybe not finish it which is a shame because it is a good and important story. I would recommend that you read this novel but do go into it with an understanding that it is a tough subject and at times emotionally difficult to read – it is not aimed at the younger side of YA readers – but it is a very worthwhile read.
A big thank you to Netgalley and Penguin for the free copy of The Miseducation of Cameron Post in exchange for an unbiased review.
*********************************
Orginal Review
What an emotional read, I will post a full review tomorrow but for now I need some time to gather my thoughts on this book.
September 12, 2018
NO. My first DNF of the year. I truly did want to like this book. In the beginning I was enjoying it, but for some reason I just started getting bored and felt like the story was dragging.
July 8, 2015
I feel like I've been waiting for this book for forever and it is finally, finally, finally here and it was perfect.
I want to read this book a million more times and I want a sequel, ASAP. Okay, great, cool.
EDIT: THIS BOOK IS JUST AS AMAZING THE SECOND TIME. AND THE THIRD TIME.
I want to read this book a million more times and I want a sequel, ASAP. Okay, great, cool.
EDIT: THIS BOOK IS JUST AS AMAZING THE SECOND TIME. AND THE THIRD TIME.
July 20, 2020
trigger warnings: conversion therapy, homophobia/homophobic slurs, self-harm (none of this is condoned but it is very prevalent)
The Miseducation of Cameron Post is an #ownvoices coming-of-age novel about our main character, Cameron Post, who loses her parents at the beginning of this novel and spends roughly half of it coming to terms with her sexuality as a lesbian teen and the other half in conversion therapy after her sexuality is discovered.
This novel is easily in my top favorite novels of all-time and it just blew me away. The Miseducation of Cameron Post reads like a classic, like a good classic, and I personally believe it should go down as a classic.
Let's deconstruct this novel a bit, shall we?
First of all, this might be the most raw and authentic representation of a character I have ever encountered. Cameron's identity as a lesbian is the core of this novel, and the journey Danforth takes us on in exploring her identity is one of the greatest things in literature today.
As I said, the first half of this novel really puts a focus on Cameron discovering her sexuality and this was one of the most organic progressions, especially considering the outside circumstances of Cameron's time period. The second half then focuses on Cameron in this conversion therapy setting and it is breathtakingly phenomenal. Conversion therapy is the harsh reality for queer people out there, and though this novel takes place in the 1990's, conversion therapy still exists today and the power a story like this can have goes beyond words. It shows the truth of conversion therapy and the absolute horror of teaching kids to hate themselves and believes they're "dirty sinners" - a difficult conversation to have, but a necessary one.
And then, there are the characters.
The characters in this novel are some of the most well-developed and fleshed out characters I have ever read about. Of course, there's the main character Cameron, who is easily a new favorite protagonist of mine. Like everything else in this novel, her voice is so raw and she has these quirks that just make her such a real person.
But then, there's the phenomenal supporting cast. Whereas there is a sense of who the protagonists and antagonists are in this novel, nothing is truly black and white. First of all, like Cameron, each of these characters is so well-fleshed-out and well-developed that it's impossible not to see them as real people. But another huge positive of how this development is how each character really sees themselves as a good person and truly believes that they're a good person even when sees homosexuality as a sin.
The antagonists aren't painted as two-dimensional villains - they are real people raised in a society that teaches them that homosexuality is wrong and they genuinely believe that they are helping these kids by teaching them to follow God. And there's something so unabashedly honest about that.
Then, there are the more positive supporting characters and they have their own quirks that make them such authentic parts of the story as well. The friends Cameron makes are just as real as she is, adding another layer of depth to this story.
As for the plot, I feel that part of that got intertwined in the previous aspects I discussed of this novel.
As I originally stated, at it's core, this novel is a lesbian coming-of-age story - an underrepresented but crucial narrative. The time period this novel is set in really brings to light the harsh realities of homophobia and the hell that queer people have had, and sometimes still have to, face due to their identities.
And then there's the aspect of the writing.
This novel can come off very slow-paced, and I understand that being a challenge for some readers. But I felt that this was a positive because it really dove into every possible nook and cranny and I came out (no pun intended) fully satisfied after reading this novel. And as I said, this novel reads like a classic, meaning the author is definitely skilled and talented with her words.
All in all, words will never do justice to how I felt reading this novel. It was a masterpiece and I am so, so damn glad I finally read it.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post is an #ownvoices coming-of-age novel about our main character, Cameron Post, who loses her parents at the beginning of this novel and spends roughly half of it coming to terms with her sexuality as a lesbian teen and the other half in conversion therapy after her sexuality is discovered.
This novel is easily in my top favorite novels of all-time and it just blew me away. The Miseducation of Cameron Post reads like a classic, like a good classic, and I personally believe it should go down as a classic.
Let's deconstruct this novel a bit, shall we?
First of all, this might be the most raw and authentic representation of a character I have ever encountered. Cameron's identity as a lesbian is the core of this novel, and the journey Danforth takes us on in exploring her identity is one of the greatest things in literature today.
As I said, the first half of this novel really puts a focus on Cameron discovering her sexuality and this was one of the most organic progressions, especially considering the outside circumstances of Cameron's time period. The second half then focuses on Cameron in this conversion therapy setting and it is breathtakingly phenomenal. Conversion therapy is the harsh reality for queer people out there, and though this novel takes place in the 1990's, conversion therapy still exists today and the power a story like this can have goes beyond words. It shows the truth of conversion therapy and the absolute horror of teaching kids to hate themselves and believes they're "dirty sinners" - a difficult conversation to have, but a necessary one.
And then, there are the characters.
The characters in this novel are some of the most well-developed and fleshed out characters I have ever read about. Of course, there's the main character Cameron, who is easily a new favorite protagonist of mine. Like everything else in this novel, her voice is so raw and she has these quirks that just make her such a real person.
But then, there's the phenomenal supporting cast. Whereas there is a sense of who the protagonists and antagonists are in this novel, nothing is truly black and white. First of all, like Cameron, each of these characters is so well-fleshed-out and well-developed that it's impossible not to see them as real people. But another huge positive of how this development is how each character really sees themselves as a good person and truly believes that they're a good person even when sees homosexuality as a sin.
The antagonists aren't painted as two-dimensional villains - they are real people raised in a society that teaches them that homosexuality is wrong and they genuinely believe that they are helping these kids by teaching them to follow God. And there's something so unabashedly honest about that.
Then, there are the more positive supporting characters and they have their own quirks that make them such authentic parts of the story as well. The friends Cameron makes are just as real as she is, adding another layer of depth to this story.
As for the plot, I feel that part of that got intertwined in the previous aspects I discussed of this novel.
As I originally stated, at it's core, this novel is a lesbian coming-of-age story - an underrepresented but crucial narrative. The time period this novel is set in really brings to light the harsh realities of homophobia and the hell that queer people have had, and sometimes still have to, face due to their identities.
And then there's the aspect of the writing.
This novel can come off very slow-paced, and I understand that being a challenge for some readers. But I felt that this was a positive because it really dove into every possible nook and cranny and I came out (no pun intended) fully satisfied after reading this novel. And as I said, this novel reads like a classic, meaning the author is definitely skilled and talented with her words.
All in all, words will never do justice to how I felt reading this novel. It was a masterpiece and I am so, so damn glad I finally read it.
July 31, 2019
This has been sitting in my pile since a big book haul soon after I’d watched the movie in the cinema.
As my home city is gearing up for its own Pride celebrations this weekend with the rainbow flags decorating the streets, it put me in mind of this novel. Especially as my edition sprayed edge also features the same colours.
The condensed down movie with a short running time gets straight to the plot whilst I felt the book really sets the scene.
The early 90’s setting felt like a character too!
I’m old enough to remember this era so all the cultural references felt very nostalgic, your constantly reminded that Cameron’s uphill battle to want to just be herself seems even more shocking.
The idea that she could be sent to a retreat to be ‘corrected’ made me so mad that people could hold these beliefs.
The book can be slow and ponderous at times but it reminded me of my own school years, time seemed to go much slower as a teenager!
The movie is certainly more accessible but the plot really picks up during the second half and again I found myself rooting for a happy ending.
Either on page or screen this is an important story to tell.
As my home city is gearing up for its own Pride celebrations this weekend with the rainbow flags decorating the streets, it put me in mind of this novel. Especially as my edition sprayed edge also features the same colours.
The condensed down movie with a short running time gets straight to the plot whilst I felt the book really sets the scene.
The early 90’s setting felt like a character too!
I’m old enough to remember this era so all the cultural references felt very nostalgic, your constantly reminded that Cameron’s uphill battle to want to just be herself seems even more shocking.
The idea that she could be sent to a retreat to be ‘corrected’ made me so mad that people could hold these beliefs.
The book can be slow and ponderous at times but it reminded me of my own school years, time seemed to go much slower as a teenager!
The movie is certainly more accessible but the plot really picks up during the second half and again I found myself rooting for a happy ending.
Either on page or screen this is an important story to tell.
February 25, 2018
This is hard to rate. I was going to go for two stars but I did think it was more an "ok". So three stars it is. Kind of a long (compared to other YA novels I've read) so it got a bit slow at times although I did generally enjoy reading about Cameron. Her parents are killed (not a spoiler) in a car accident and her evangelical Christian aunt comes to raise her. Let's just say that Cameron being a lesbian does not go over well. Not my favorite ending. I wanted more. Maybe there will be a sequel?
May 16, 2025
Every bit as good as I remembered it being. One of the most perfect novels I’ve ever read, in any genre.
Edit: I’ve been trying to articulate to myself, the last few days, why I love this novel so much.
There’s a scene towards the end—I’ll try to avoid real spoilers, here, but I am discussing a scene from the end of the novel—between Cameron and her roommate, “the Viking Erin” (so called because she’s a hardcore Minnesota Vikings fan). Up til now—and we’re well past page 400—Erin has not been an important character. Her and Cameron’s scene doesn’t exactly advance the plot. Nor does it really tell us much about Cameron we don’t already know. It’s funny and sad and beautifully written—but then, basically any scene in this novel would be the best scene in any other contemporary YA I’ve read, so no surprise there. In seven pages, give or take, emily m. danforth shows us something that happened between Cameron and Erin, from Cameron’s point of view.
When the scene was over (three little dots on the page), I stood face to face with an alternate universe. In that universe, emily m. danforth was from Minnesota, not Montana. The novel I was reading was called The Miseducation of the Viking Erin. A beautiful, beautiful book.
Another scene—an earlier scene:
“The longer I stayed at Promise [the conversion therapy program Cameron’s been sent to], the more all the stuff they were throwing at me, at us, started to stick … in little bits, at first, random pieces, no big deal. For instance, maybe I’d be in bed during lights out and I’d start to think about Coley [Cameron’s ex] and kissing Coley, and doing more with Coley, or Lindsey [another ex], or whomever, Michelle Pfeiffer [it’s 1993]. But then I might hear Lydia’s voice [the program’s ‘therapist’] saying, You have to fight these sinful impulses: fight, it’s not supposed to be easy to fight sin, and I might totally ignore it, or even laugh to myself about what an idiot she was, but there it would be, her voice, in my head, where it hadn’t been before.”
The point of the passage is clear enough. But catch that bit about Coley. Look at how quickly Cam downplays the Coley-specificity of her fantasy, throwing out first a much less serious ex, Lindsey, then Michelle Pfeiffer (or whomever). Cameron is wrestling with being gay, with the evangelical bullshit she’s immersed in—but also with her complicated lingering feelings for Coley. That “or whomever, Michelle Pfeiffer” speaks volumes.
Edit: I’ve been trying to articulate to myself, the last few days, why I love this novel so much.
There’s a scene towards the end—I’ll try to avoid real spoilers, here, but I am discussing a scene from the end of the novel—between Cameron and her roommate, “the Viking Erin” (so called because she’s a hardcore Minnesota Vikings fan). Up til now—and we’re well past page 400—Erin has not been an important character. Her and Cameron’s scene doesn’t exactly advance the plot. Nor does it really tell us much about Cameron we don’t already know. It’s funny and sad and beautifully written—but then, basically any scene in this novel would be the best scene in any other contemporary YA I’ve read, so no surprise there. In seven pages, give or take, emily m. danforth shows us something that happened between Cameron and Erin, from Cameron’s point of view.
When the scene was over (three little dots on the page), I stood face to face with an alternate universe. In that universe, emily m. danforth was from Minnesota, not Montana. The novel I was reading was called The Miseducation of the Viking Erin. A beautiful, beautiful book.
Another scene—an earlier scene:
“The longer I stayed at Promise [the conversion therapy program Cameron’s been sent to], the more all the stuff they were throwing at me, at us, started to stick … in little bits, at first, random pieces, no big deal. For instance, maybe I’d be in bed during lights out and I’d start to think about Coley [Cameron’s ex] and kissing Coley, and doing more with Coley, or Lindsey [another ex], or whomever, Michelle Pfeiffer [it’s 1993]. But then I might hear Lydia’s voice [the program’s ‘therapist’] saying, You have to fight these sinful impulses: fight, it’s not supposed to be easy to fight sin, and I might totally ignore it, or even laugh to myself about what an idiot she was, but there it would be, her voice, in my head, where it hadn’t been before.”
The point of the passage is clear enough. But catch that bit about Coley. Look at how quickly Cam downplays the Coley-specificity of her fantasy, throwing out first a much less serious ex, Lindsey, then Michelle Pfeiffer (or whomever). Cameron is wrestling with being gay, with the evangelical bullshit she’s immersed in—but also with her complicated lingering feelings for Coley. That “or whomever, Michelle Pfeiffer” speaks volumes.
January 26, 2021
I made the mistake of watching the movie before I read the book. Normally, I always prefer the book. In this case, I really enjoyed the things that "were not said" in the movie - the actors were able to convey with facial expressions and their body language what they dared not say out loud. In comparison, the book is quite "chatty". Cameron Post, in the book, comes across as naive but sexually curious, whereas Chloe Grace Moretz, in the movie, portrayed Cameron as a typical young teen who just wanted to blend in with the rest of the crowd, while still maintaining her sexual identity.
Alas, Cameron's parents are dead, and she is being raised by her "born again Christian" aunt. When Cameron is discovered making out with her friend, she is banished to God's Promise - a camp for teens who have gender identity issues, in order to be "cured of this sin". It is very hard not to be outraged that such camps continue to exist. Any form of religion, when taken to an extreme, can be harmful to society - especially its youngest members. We cannot accept dogma unquestioningly. Cameron's parents were not born again Christians, and yet Cameron's aunt imposed her own religious beliefs on her niece. Children don't often seem to be given the option to "opt out" of their caretakers' belief systems. I recall my own frustration with this same issue as I grew up, but my situation was in no way as dire as Cameron's. I now consider myself a spiritual person, versus a religious person. I don't want to be limited to one belief system or philosophy: I don't think any of them have gotten it right, except when they uphold the ideal that we need to learn to tolerate and love one another, push aside our greedy instincts and try to share the earth's bounty with each other and all of the Universe's creatures/creation. Prejudice and intolerance are usually based on fear and ignorance. The more we are allowed to learn about other cultures and beliefs, the stronger our global community will be.
No gender or culture should reign supreme over the other. We should resist brainwashing young children with our own personal belief systems, but then again, change is slow, and young people do need direction and guidance. I don't have any far-reaching solutions, but this book is an excellent example of what happens to young people who are forced into a mold they cannot possibly be happy in. I highly recommend this book and the movie.
Alas, Cameron's parents are dead, and she is being raised by her "born again Christian" aunt. When Cameron is discovered making out with her friend, she is banished to God's Promise - a camp for teens who have gender identity issues, in order to be "cured of this sin". It is very hard not to be outraged that such camps continue to exist. Any form of religion, when taken to an extreme, can be harmful to society - especially its youngest members. We cannot accept dogma unquestioningly. Cameron's parents were not born again Christians, and yet Cameron's aunt imposed her own religious beliefs on her niece. Children don't often seem to be given the option to "opt out" of their caretakers' belief systems. I recall my own frustration with this same issue as I grew up, but my situation was in no way as dire as Cameron's. I now consider myself a spiritual person, versus a religious person. I don't want to be limited to one belief system or philosophy: I don't think any of them have gotten it right, except when they uphold the ideal that we need to learn to tolerate and love one another, push aside our greedy instincts and try to share the earth's bounty with each other and all of the Universe's creatures/creation. Prejudice and intolerance are usually based on fear and ignorance. The more we are allowed to learn about other cultures and beliefs, the stronger our global community will be.
No gender or culture should reign supreme over the other. We should resist brainwashing young children with our own personal belief systems, but then again, change is slow, and young people do need direction and guidance. I don't have any far-reaching solutions, but this book is an excellent example of what happens to young people who are forced into a mold they cannot possibly be happy in. I highly recommend this book and the movie.
April 4, 2012
4.5 Stars.
Original review posted here.
As young adult readers, it’s somewhat rare for us to run into a book that’s more than 400 pages long, and when we do, I feel like those books fall into one of three categories. There are those lengthy YA books that are so engrossing and quick paced that you just gobble them up without ever noticing the length (see Grave Mercy), there are those that you feel could have had 100+ pages cut and have been better for it (see Partials), and then, there are those that are worth consuming slowly, taking in each word and phrase as it comes because every one of them has been carefully considered and placed to enrich the story. The Miseducation of Cameron Post is this third kind of book. I’ll admit I was intimidated by its girth, but I found every moment that I spent reading filling me up in a way that hearty wheat bread can fill your belly--with nourishment and substance.
Now, I’ll admit, a lot of my attachment to The Miseducation of Cameron Post arose from the fact that this book, more than any other I have ever read, exemplifies my childhood. If you want to know what it was like growing up in small town Wyoming in the 90s, not too far from Billings, Montana--it’s not all that different from growing up in small town Miles City, not too far from Billings, Montana. Cameron and I went to the same mall to do school shopping, we stop at the same airport, and more importantly, our towns share the same businesses, people, and atmosphere. I cannot tell you how badly I was craving Taco Johns every time it was mentioned, and I am so sad for all of you that don’t live in the mountain states and know its glory (you know, as glorious as a Mexican fast food chain can be). When Emily M. Danforth wrote of thunderheads gathering on the horizon, I could smell it, and feel the hot, dry summer air. We played with firecrackers, bought gas at Conoco, bought crafts at Ben Franklin’s, we had kids wearing those blue FFA jackets at school; to this day I miss Schwan’s single-serve pizzas and push pops. I further bonded with Cameron because we were both swimmers who hung out largely with boys, and had lost parents at twelve (thankfully, in my case, not both). Despite what I felt was a very personal attachment to this book, I don’t think you need to have one to enjoy it. Danforth creates such a strong image of Miles City, and God’s Promise, that any reader will feel immersed.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a coming of age story in the truest sense of the term. We follow Cameron from the time that she is twelve, until she is seventeen (or near enough). I loved seeing Cameron come into her own as a person, realize who she was, and fumble with her sense of self in the same way that every teen experiences. For Cameron, much of this is focused on the fact that she is a lesbian, but it didn’t have to be--this story would have been just as compelling if she’d been strait. Certainly, this book will speak to any teens who feel trapped in a situation, their family, their town, and need to find themselves to decide how best to manage their future. I am not meaning to diminish the importance of The Miseducation of Cameron Post as a work of LGBT literature, merely stating that I think this is a work that could influence anyone, the LGBT aspect is not the only way readers will relate to this book.
Cameron Post herself is one of my new literary best friends. I love this girl. She’s a bit of a klepto, which I never understood, but other than that we bonded hard core. I love that to her, her sexuality isn’t a choice, a political statement, or a counter-culture movement--it’s just who she is. So many adults in her life reacted to her as if she were acting out, when in reality she was just being a kid, and being who she was. The sad fact that those she loved most had no idea how to love those parts of Cameron they didn’t agree with or understand broke my heart.
I think it is easy for those many people who live in very liberal areas to look unkindly and with harsh judgement at evangelical Christians such as much of Cameron’s town. When you only experience these people through the bubble that is media, and not through personal experience, it becomes so easy to write them off as horrible people because of their judgements on homosexuals. This has always been a tough position for me. Much of my hometown, and many people that I love dearly share these views. Their adamant belief that homosexuality equates to damnation doesn’t change the fact that they are often wonderful, caring, heartfelt people. What Cameron’s family does to her, they do because they are trying to help, and because they love her. I can respect that, and so can Cameron. That doesn’t make it right, but I appreciate so much that Emily M. Danforth did strive to show these people as caring, and helpless to understand because of their beliefs. There was no outspoken rebellion against Christianity in general, only an acknowledgement that the methods used in this particular case were flawed, and doomed from the start--you can’t cure something that isn’t a sickness. Because of this treatment, I hope that those who avoid books with religious themes are not put off by The Misedcuation of Cameron Post. It is not preachy either for or against the nature/nurture arguments of homosexuality, it is the story of a girl finding and accepting herself in a time and place where so many obstacles stand in her way.
Original review posted here.
As young adult readers, it’s somewhat rare for us to run into a book that’s more than 400 pages long, and when we do, I feel like those books fall into one of three categories. There are those lengthy YA books that are so engrossing and quick paced that you just gobble them up without ever noticing the length (see Grave Mercy), there are those that you feel could have had 100+ pages cut and have been better for it (see Partials), and then, there are those that are worth consuming slowly, taking in each word and phrase as it comes because every one of them has been carefully considered and placed to enrich the story. The Miseducation of Cameron Post is this third kind of book. I’ll admit I was intimidated by its girth, but I found every moment that I spent reading filling me up in a way that hearty wheat bread can fill your belly--with nourishment and substance.
Now, I’ll admit, a lot of my attachment to The Miseducation of Cameron Post arose from the fact that this book, more than any other I have ever read, exemplifies my childhood. If you want to know what it was like growing up in small town Wyoming in the 90s, not too far from Billings, Montana--it’s not all that different from growing up in small town Miles City, not too far from Billings, Montana. Cameron and I went to the same mall to do school shopping, we stop at the same airport, and more importantly, our towns share the same businesses, people, and atmosphere. I cannot tell you how badly I was craving Taco Johns every time it was mentioned, and I am so sad for all of you that don’t live in the mountain states and know its glory (you know, as glorious as a Mexican fast food chain can be). When Emily M. Danforth wrote of thunderheads gathering on the horizon, I could smell it, and feel the hot, dry summer air. We played with firecrackers, bought gas at Conoco, bought crafts at Ben Franklin’s, we had kids wearing those blue FFA jackets at school; to this day I miss Schwan’s single-serve pizzas and push pops. I further bonded with Cameron because we were both swimmers who hung out largely with boys, and had lost parents at twelve (thankfully, in my case, not both). Despite what I felt was a very personal attachment to this book, I don’t think you need to have one to enjoy it. Danforth creates such a strong image of Miles City, and God’s Promise, that any reader will feel immersed.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a coming of age story in the truest sense of the term. We follow Cameron from the time that she is twelve, until she is seventeen (or near enough). I loved seeing Cameron come into her own as a person, realize who she was, and fumble with her sense of self in the same way that every teen experiences. For Cameron, much of this is focused on the fact that she is a lesbian, but it didn’t have to be--this story would have been just as compelling if she’d been strait. Certainly, this book will speak to any teens who feel trapped in a situation, their family, their town, and need to find themselves to decide how best to manage their future. I am not meaning to diminish the importance of The Miseducation of Cameron Post as a work of LGBT literature, merely stating that I think this is a work that could influence anyone, the LGBT aspect is not the only way readers will relate to this book.
Cameron Post herself is one of my new literary best friends. I love this girl. She’s a bit of a klepto, which I never understood, but other than that we bonded hard core. I love that to her, her sexuality isn’t a choice, a political statement, or a counter-culture movement--it’s just who she is. So many adults in her life reacted to her as if she were acting out, when in reality she was just being a kid, and being who she was. The sad fact that those she loved most had no idea how to love those parts of Cameron they didn’t agree with or understand broke my heart.
I think it is easy for those many people who live in very liberal areas to look unkindly and with harsh judgement at evangelical Christians such as much of Cameron’s town. When you only experience these people through the bubble that is media, and not through personal experience, it becomes so easy to write them off as horrible people because of their judgements on homosexuals. This has always been a tough position for me. Much of my hometown, and many people that I love dearly share these views. Their adamant belief that homosexuality equates to damnation doesn’t change the fact that they are often wonderful, caring, heartfelt people. What Cameron’s family does to her, they do because they are trying to help, and because they love her. I can respect that, and so can Cameron. That doesn’t make it right, but I appreciate so much that Emily M. Danforth did strive to show these people as caring, and helpless to understand because of their beliefs. There was no outspoken rebellion against Christianity in general, only an acknowledgement that the methods used in this particular case were flawed, and doomed from the start--you can’t cure something that isn’t a sickness. Because of this treatment, I hope that those who avoid books with religious themes are not put off by The Misedcuation of Cameron Post. It is not preachy either for or against the nature/nurture arguments of homosexuality, it is the story of a girl finding and accepting herself in a time and place where so many obstacles stand in her way.
December 20, 2018
I Hate It 💔
August 25, 2014
This is by far the best book I have ever read on Christianity and homosexuality. I was thoroughly impressed with how the author handled this very touchy subject. There is no moral of the story crammed down your throat, no secret agenda. It's a story of a girl dealing with the loss of her parents while on the brink of womanhood, and it is told beautifully, honestly, and lovingly.
One of the aspects of The Miseducation of Cameron Post that I have to comment on is the writing style. It is a lot more like adult literary fiction than YA, but for this type of story it works well. The writing could have easily overpowered the story, making it feel heavy handed and slow to read, but Danforth does an excellent job painting a complete picture. It's easy to get completely submerged in her writing.
I really appreciated how honestly Danforth handled Cameron's sexuality. Nothing about it was overdone, it was understated and shy and exactly what so many kids go through when they get their first crush. Straight or gay, I could completely related to the confusion and excitement of young love.
I also really liked how the Christian characters weren't one dimensional villains. I think it could have been very easy to make these characters judgmental and cruel, but instead I could understand where they were coming from. I wanted to hate Ruth, Rick, and Lydia, but I understood those characters and realized that in their mind they were trying to help Cameron and her classmates. It's fairly obvious that they weren't very successful with their methods, but Danforth doesn't outright condemn them either. It is possible for good people to do very bad things without realizing it.
Overall The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a fantastic addition to the growing LGBT themed books in the YA community. It shows how sexuality isn't a black or white issue and I hope it will raise awareness that people are people first, and their sexuality and religion second. This is a fantastic book for parents and teachers to start a dialogue about tolerance for different sexualities.
One of the aspects of The Miseducation of Cameron Post that I have to comment on is the writing style. It is a lot more like adult literary fiction than YA, but for this type of story it works well. The writing could have easily overpowered the story, making it feel heavy handed and slow to read, but Danforth does an excellent job painting a complete picture. It's easy to get completely submerged in her writing.
I really appreciated how honestly Danforth handled Cameron's sexuality. Nothing about it was overdone, it was understated and shy and exactly what so many kids go through when they get their first crush. Straight or gay, I could completely related to the confusion and excitement of young love.
I also really liked how the Christian characters weren't one dimensional villains. I think it could have been very easy to make these characters judgmental and cruel, but instead I could understand where they were coming from. I wanted to hate Ruth, Rick, and Lydia, but I understood those characters and realized that in their mind they were trying to help Cameron and her classmates. It's fairly obvious that they weren't very successful with their methods, but Danforth doesn't outright condemn them either. It is possible for good people to do very bad things without realizing it.
Overall The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a fantastic addition to the growing LGBT themed books in the YA community. It shows how sexuality isn't a black or white issue and I hope it will raise awareness that people are people first, and their sexuality and religion second. This is a fantastic book for parents and teachers to start a dialogue about tolerance for different sexualities.
September 11, 2016
I read, with great patience, a quarter through this before putting the book away. It will remain unfinished. This book is dull. The attempt at a sensitive and ruminative coming of age story just feels plodding and tedious.
November 7, 2019
This was quite a slow book, and while that meant I had a few moments of not quite caring as much as I had thought I would, by the end those parts felt vital to the story. I realized that Cameron had become such a real figure to me, that it was all the more troubling to see way, 'God's Promise Christian Discipleship Program' started to impact her.
Emily M. Danforth is very thoughtful in the way she portrays Cameron and those around her. At times I felt a little disconnected from it and I can't put my finger on just why that was, but it was a very good book. I am interested in watching the movie when I get the chance, since I've heard many positive things about it.
Emily M. Danforth is very thoughtful in the way she portrays Cameron and those around her. At times I felt a little disconnected from it and I can't put my finger on just why that was, but it was a very good book. I am interested in watching the movie when I get the chance, since I've heard many positive things about it.
August 10, 2012
Wow...what a pleasant surprise this was. I saw this in the Teen New Books section of the library, figured, if nothing else, it would serve as a palate-cleanser, a fluffy coming of age story. Turns out, The Miseducation of Cameron Post resonates much more deeply than the typical YA novel, filled with pitch perfect detail and honesty, devoid of condescension: a book to be shared by all.
Weighing in at 460+ pages, it's really two books in one. The first half is a pretty-straightforward girl-discovers-she-likes-girls in the late 80s-early 90s kinda story. The titular narrator Cameron feels a tremendous amount of guilt when her parents are killed in a car crash, right around the same time (at age 12) she has a sleepover at a girl's house that culminates in her sexual awakening (that she is, indeed, attracted to other girls). The setting is Miles City, Montana (perhaps not coincidentally, author Emily Danforth's hometown), a place (probably to this day, but certainly in the 80s-90s) you'd have an extremely difficult time coming-out. So the first half of the novel focuses on Cam's junior high and high school years, of hiding her sexual desires, especially from her born-again aunt who has become her foster parent after her parents passed away. While i'm not terribly familiar with LGBT fiction, it seems like pretty familiar typical stuff (like maybe watching a Logo Channel rerun), although Ms Danforth's detailed-yet-almost-lyrical account set this apart from any story i'd read before in this genre. (Some may argue that, with 460 pages, it's too detailed, but I would disagree)
The second half of the novel, when Auntie finds out about Cameron's "un-Christian" sexual urges and sends her away to "God's Promise" (a school whose primary purpose is to de-Gay-ify teens) is when the story really begins to soar, totally getting under my skin. Ms. Danforth's (surprisingly objective) depiction of this deprogramming school is just gut-wrenching (without being too over-the-top or reducing itself to cliche).
What I most liked about this book is how true-to-life it seemed. Every bit of dialogue, every lust and heartbreak of Cameron's just seemed real. The old adage of "write what you know" seems to apply here: the detail that Ms. Danforth puts forth seemingly could only come from someone who's gone through similar experiences (like the crashing echo of a "first-time" pants zipper being unzipped, or the specifics of one-on-one counseling at the deprogramming school, or the "ubiquitous turd brown coffee cups at Perkins'", or the inexplicable Montanan cravings of Potato Olés at Taco Johns (hint: it requires lots and lots of pot-smoking). I would encourage anyone of any sexual orientation or spiritual bent (or anyone like me who tends to dismiss books categorized as YA) to give this book a try. This is a very solid first novel for Emily Danforth, and I look forward to seeing how she writes outside of her "comfort zone".
June 22, 2018
3.75*
This is a difficult book to know how to rate. On the one hand, I thought the story was brilliant, infuriating, thoughtful and although incredibly difficult to read at times, undoubtedly important. However, on the other hand, I personally didn’t click with the writing style and for me, the book overall was just too long and drawn out in places. With that being said, due to following its main character from a child to late teens, this book offers a unique insight into sexuality and growing up in a world that’s fighting your identity at every turn.
If your considering reading this book, keep in mind that it’s definitely not a lighthearted read. It’s upsetting, graphic and potentially triggering for some.
TW:
• Graphic self harm
• Extreme homophobia
• ‘Correction’ camp for LGBTQ+ teens
• Racist and ableist language
• Discussion of sexual assault
This is a difficult book to know how to rate. On the one hand, I thought the story was brilliant, infuriating, thoughtful and although incredibly difficult to read at times, undoubtedly important. However, on the other hand, I personally didn’t click with the writing style and for me, the book overall was just too long and drawn out in places. With that being said, due to following its main character from a child to late teens, this book offers a unique insight into sexuality and growing up in a world that’s fighting your identity at every turn.
If your considering reading this book, keep in mind that it’s definitely not a lighthearted read. It’s upsetting, graphic and potentially triggering for some.
TW:
• Graphic self harm
• Extreme homophobia
• ‘Correction’ camp for LGBTQ+ teens
• Racist and ableist language
• Discussion of sexual assault
October 4, 2024
“What taught me anything more than how to lose myself in them, it was that you only actually have perfectly profound little moments like that in real life if you recognize them yourself, do all the fancy shot work and editing in your head"
This is a bleak monster of a book. It fits somewhere in between contemporary literary and young adult fiction. Having read it though, it's a brave, brokenhearted story about identity and coming of age.
Cameron Post is a lesbian teenager, living in rural Miles City, Montana. Set in the early 1990s, this is a formative time for young LGBTQ folks who are beginning to try and get their piece of the American pie in being heard and seen as normal human beings, that politically, outside the plot of Danforth's book, are not the stereotypical, it sinful, beings often infected with AIDS.
It seems like Cameron's luck is always terrible. She loses her parents to a car accident. She's sent to live with her conservative Aunt Ruth and Grandmother.
After being caught kissing a girl, Irene, and later the object of her affection, the two faced, confused, Coley- Cam is sent to a religious conversion camp to be cured of her homosexuality, “he shook his head to himself, that convinced me: He was disgusted with me, with what he somehow knew that Irene and I had done, and he didn’t want me in his house for one more second".
Under the thumb of gay convert Reverend Rick and the eye of the suspicious Dr. Lydia Marsh, Cam finds a chosen family among other misfits Jane Fonda, Adam Red Eagle, and Mark, who are all on the queer spectrum. All are struggling with the psychological abuse within the confines of God's Promise.
Reading this book was a bit overblown in its exposition, and could've been cut by a hundred pages.
It takes almost three hundred pages for Cam to be sent to God's Promise.
However, what I liked about Danforth's book is that she captures the rhythms and loneliness of small town, slice of life.
The characters are archetypes that live within such a place away from the big cities. Cameron also loves 1980s and 1990s cult and queer classic camp films, some of which I adored growing up: "Death Becomes Her" "Fatal Attraction", with camp and diva icons Goldie Hawn, Meryl Streep and Glenn Close; and the mention of the lesbian vampire movie "The Hunger" starring Catherine Deneuve, Susan Sarandon and David Bowie.
Then there's the mention of fast food joints I loved- Hardee's, McDonald's and the now defunct restaurant Perkins.
The rhythms of growing up in these rural areas reminded me of novels by Carson McCullers and Kent Haruf that capture a sad, struggling underbelly of American life.
There is also a fine film adaptation starring Chloe Grace Moretz that captures a wistfulness that the book embodies.
This is a bleak monster of a book. It fits somewhere in between contemporary literary and young adult fiction. Having read it though, it's a brave, brokenhearted story about identity and coming of age.
Cameron Post is a lesbian teenager, living in rural Miles City, Montana. Set in the early 1990s, this is a formative time for young LGBTQ folks who are beginning to try and get their piece of the American pie in being heard and seen as normal human beings, that politically, outside the plot of Danforth's book, are not the stereotypical, it sinful, beings often infected with AIDS.
It seems like Cameron's luck is always terrible. She loses her parents to a car accident. She's sent to live with her conservative Aunt Ruth and Grandmother.
After being caught kissing a girl, Irene, and later the object of her affection, the two faced, confused, Coley- Cam is sent to a religious conversion camp to be cured of her homosexuality, “he shook his head to himself, that convinced me: He was disgusted with me, with what he somehow knew that Irene and I had done, and he didn’t want me in his house for one more second".
Under the thumb of gay convert Reverend Rick and the eye of the suspicious Dr. Lydia Marsh, Cam finds a chosen family among other misfits Jane Fonda, Adam Red Eagle, and Mark, who are all on the queer spectrum. All are struggling with the psychological abuse within the confines of God's Promise.
Reading this book was a bit overblown in its exposition, and could've been cut by a hundred pages.
It takes almost three hundred pages for Cam to be sent to God's Promise.
However, what I liked about Danforth's book is that she captures the rhythms and loneliness of small town, slice of life.
The characters are archetypes that live within such a place away from the big cities. Cameron also loves 1980s and 1990s cult and queer classic camp films, some of which I adored growing up: "Death Becomes Her" "Fatal Attraction", with camp and diva icons Goldie Hawn, Meryl Streep and Glenn Close; and the mention of the lesbian vampire movie "The Hunger" starring Catherine Deneuve, Susan Sarandon and David Bowie.
Then there's the mention of fast food joints I loved- Hardee's, McDonald's and the now defunct restaurant Perkins.
The rhythms of growing up in these rural areas reminded me of novels by Carson McCullers and Kent Haruf that capture a sad, struggling underbelly of American life.
There is also a fine film adaptation starring Chloe Grace Moretz that captures a wistfulness that the book embodies.
June 29, 2021
this was the sort of book that you should read on a lazy summer afternoon, which is exactly what i did.
written in a perks of being a wallflower-esque style, this book felt so alive with its ample details. you felt like you were experiencing cameron’s life story right alongside her. her town was your own, and her feelings became your own, too. it’s the sort of book that makes me sit back and think ((wow)), because the sort of time and attention to details that had to be put into its creation are insane.
written in a perks of being a wallflower-esque style, this book felt so alive with its ample details. you felt like you were experiencing cameron’s life story right alongside her. her town was your own, and her feelings became your own, too. it’s the sort of book that makes me sit back and think ((wow)), because the sort of time and attention to details that had to be put into its creation are insane.
July 7, 2019
Reread it again and loved it again, what can i say this book will move me at any point in my life.
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