Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe

George Stade, Consulting Editorial Director of Barnes & Noble Classics in New York, releases the famous adventure Robinson Crusoe, written by Daniel Defoe, first in 2003 in mass market format and then in 2005 in trade paperback.  This edition includes an introduction, notes, and a list for further reading by L. J. Swingle of English Literature at the University of Kentucky.  Originally published in 1719 as The Life and Strange Surprizing Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, the story chronicles Robinson Crusoe’s travels and struggles on land and sea.  The main locus of the story occurs on an uninhabited island, which Crusoe lives on for about twenty-seven years (other sources quote twenty-eight).  Other adventures happen, but the world remembers the simple plot of a man stranded on a deserted island and survives under his own ingenuity.

The other adventures have surprised me, because they are not usually shown in adaptations or children’s books.  For one, Crusoe leaves his family to pursue a life on the sea.  His father discourages Crusoe to talk about going to the sea; he wants his son to stay in England, continue the family business, raise a family, and be comfortably set for life.  It is peculiar that his father discourages him so much.  I suppose seafaring crew or sailors have a bad reputation in eighteenth century society, but other seafaring folk, like the Portuguese captain, make a career out of it without falling into corruption or immorality.  I figure sons are expected to continue their fathers’ careers as a culturally sanctioned necessity during the eighteenth century.  In any case, Crusoe cannot resist the siren’s song of the ocean and takes the next opportunity to get on a boat.

Another story that does not get mentioned in adaptations, generally, is Crusoe’s experience as a slave after being captured by pirates and sold to a Moroccan merchant.  He spends a couple of years working for his master until he hatches a plan to hijack one of the boats and escape to the jungle coasts of Sub-Saharan Africa.  Later, he is picked up by a Portuguese merchant heading for the Brazilian coast and helps him get a foot in the New World.  The captain treats him honestly and supports him charitably in his fledgling business affairs and transactions.

Furthermore, another detail that does not get included in adaptations is his business affairs after he gets rescued from the tropical island.  It surprises me greatly how the story continues even after the rescue, almost as if the twenty-seven years on the island are just an anecdotal interruption in Crusoe’s life on the sea.  Oddly, Defoe does not follow the normal narrative pattern of novels: there are no distinguishing chapters; the narrator understates the magnitude of the rescue; and the denouement unnecessarily tarries long after Crusoe gets off the island.  In other words, it reads more like a long-winded monologue with a flow of consciousness that does not trouble itself with exact dates or localities.  With no chapters to divide the novel, the text runs on interminably.  The reading flows well enough, but the pacing leaves me wanting to stop at inconvenient intervals.

Another strange thing about Robinson Crusoe is the protagonist’s matter-of-fact or prosaic treatment of events.  “Crusoe’s interest in the natural world is aggressively utilitarian,” L. J. Swingle says in the “Introduction” (xxiv).  It is like reading The Boy Scout Handbook: informative, but not exciting.  Also, the lack of female characters and their perspectives makes me wonder if Defoe believes only men would appreciate or enjoy his story.  It is not wrong to target a specific group in the literary market per se, but I wonder how women react to this book when they read it.  Would they feel offended?  Would they root for the hero as he struggles to survive?  Would they even care?  I would really like to know how female readers react to Crusoe’s obvious disinterest to the opposite sex.

If there is a problem pertaining to Crusoe’s behavior that women would frown upon, it would probably be his insensitivity to other people’s emotions.  With the exception of his intent to obtain a boatload of African slaves to work on his plantation in Brazil, Crusoe insensitively, but not maliciously, views everyone and everything around him as a means to an end.  He does develop as a character, but not as much as say Jean Valjean in Les Misérables or Viridiana in Luis Buñuel’s movie of the same name.  Crusoe seems to typify the stereotype of men treating everything as objects.  He certainly capitalizes on opportunities to make a buck.

It takes being shipwrecked on an island for him to realize that not all things need a monetary value; it takes being acted upon to realize what he takes for granted.  In his predicament, he becomes dependent on God.  It is in this state where I enjoy Crusoe the most.  While isolated from the rest of society, he has time to reflect on his choices and attitudes.  Admirably, instead of surrendering himself into a suicidal oblivion, he accepts his existential dependence on an “Invisible Power” and gets to work on transforming himself as well as his surroundings (77).  He becomes a new man with a different perspective.  He takes the time to read the Bible and becomes spiritually cognizant of his status before his Creator.  At one point he writes:

“Now I began to construe the words mentioned above, ‘Call on me, and I will deliver thee,’ in a different sense from what I had ever done before; for then I had no notion of anything being called deliverance but my being delivered from the captivity I was in: for though I was indeed at large in the place, yet the island was certainly a prison to me, and that in the worst sense in the world; but now I learned to take it in another sense.  Now I looked back upon my past life with such horror, and my sins appeared so dreadful, that my soul sought nothing of God but deliverance from the load of guilt that bore down all my comfort.  As for my solitary life, it was nothing; I did not so much as pray to be delivered from it, or think of it; it was all of no consideration in comparison to this.  And I add this part here, to hint to whoever shall read it, that whenever they come to a true sense of things, they will find deliverance from sin a much greater blessing than deliverance from affliction” (83).

Over the course of his stay on the island, Crusoe writes many wonderfully spiritual observations that seem like testimonies borne before an LDS congregation.  (Linguistically, I wonder if our frequently used terms and phrases in testimony meetings have originated from an eighteenth century British lexicon.)  He stumbles upon topics like prayer, repentance, gratitude, works, grace, trust in the Lord, temperance, love, peace, consolation, contentment, optimism, accountability, leadership, self-sufficiency, husbandry, justice, mercy, faith, hope, confidence, deliverance, submission, elation, repugnance to sin, obedience to the promptings of the Holy Spirit (or the light of Christ), wisdom, revelation, joy, knowledge, power, righteousness, and governance.  As he struggles to survive, and then live comfortably within his means, he becomes a child of God, willing to suffer through the trials of life in order to obtain redemption through the merits of Jesus Christ.  “I say, when I reflected upon all these things, a secret joy ran through every part of my soul; and I frequently rejoiced that ever I was brought to this place, which I had so often thought the most dreadful of all afflictions that could possibly have befallen me” (184).

Probably the most profound realization Crusoe obtains is his ability to see beyond mere appearances or stressful circumstances.  He reflects saying:

“So little do we see before us in the world, and so much reason have we to depend cheerfully upon the great Maker of the world, that he does not leave his creatures so absolutely destitute, but that in the worst circumstances they have always something to be thankful for, and sometimes are nearer their deliverance than they imagine; nay, are even brought to their deliverance by the means by which they seem to be brought to their destruction” (210).

If I had more interest and resources to pursue an academic understanding of Robinson Crusoe, I would focus on the character’s transformation into a one-man sovereign or nation.  At first, Crusoe is a castaway struggling to maintain an existence.  At last, he is a self-sufficient guardian with means to protect his island and interests.  Because of his experiences and his achievements, he can rightfully claim that the island is his own country or colony.  He acts as a legislator, a governor, and a judge when he saves a captain and his crew from mutineers.  They all look to him as a legal and executive source of justice, because, naturally, Crusoe is the most comfortable occupant on it.  Crusoe makes alliances, pacts, policies, and laws pertaining to the operation of the island with foreigners and aliens.  The only question remaining is this: At what point does he become the sovereign of this island nation?

The book is appropriate for the general public.  Men and boys may enjoy it more than women and girls, only because the topics discussed by the narrator have a masculine interest or viewpoint.  I would challenge women and girls to read it, record their reactions, and share them with the public, because I am seriously curious about their particular viewpoints of the story, no matter how positive, negative, or neutral.  The results will make for a fascinating conversation.

Andrew

mhm's review of W. Cleon Skousen's "Thousand Year Series".

Okay, this is old LDS commentary on the Old Testament. Skousen started work on it back in the 1930's. It reads like an Institute of Religion instructor's notes. Each chapter has discussion questions at the beginning, footnotes at the end, and each book has a lengthy index.

In "The First Two Thousand Years", Skousen covers the Creation through the life of Abraham and includes excerpts from the LDS scriptures The Pearl of Great Price and The Doctrine and Covenants to cover what has been revealed about God's Plan of Salvation and the time before the Earth was created when Satan rebelled and was cast out of heaven. A couple of assumptions Skousen makes did not set well with me, mostly because the scriptures are not clear on them and thus I put them under the category of speculation: e.g., that Adam was very picky about who was given the priesthood after Cain murdered his brother Abel. Skousen says Adam waited to see who was worthy and often didn't ordain future sons and grandsons until they were well into adulthood. I think our account of Genesis is by no means exhaustive and we may only have the record of those sons/grandsons of Adam who not only had the priesthood but also had leadership callings. Certainly nothing worth quibbling about, but just a word to those who want to use Skousen's commentary that praying for knowledge and confirmation of the truth are essential to any scripture study effort.

Because Skousen wanted to go through Biblical history chronologically, he also included a brief portion to the account of the Jaredites found in the Book of Mormon, since their people left the Tower of Babel at the time God confounded the language of the people building it. So although Skousen focuses mostly on the Bible, he inserts the history of the peoples of the Book of Mormon where their stories intersect with those of the Bible.

In "The Third Thousand Years", Skousen covers the life of Abraham's son Isaac through the life of Moses. Here much of the book is devoted to explaining the Mosaic law, it's sacrifices, it's statutes and how spiritually immature the Children of Israel were when coming out of slavery in Egypt. You would think that seeing the Red Sea part for you would be enough to convince people that Moses was who he said he was and God was serious about raising up a righteous nation. Just proves that miracles don't mean a thing when it comes to changing one's spirituality.

In "The Fourth Thousand Years", the time of Joshua's leadership of the Children of Israel in the Promised Land until the final prophets of the Old Testament is discussed. We hear about the rise of Israel and the problems that come from mixing idol worship with the true religion. We see how Israel went from judges to kings to being subjugated by foreign powers because of slothful attention and preparation on the part of the leaders and the people. This was in a way, the most useful volume, because it helps to sort out all the political leaders and wars so that one could actually differentiate between one era and another. The pattern was boringly familiar, (Israel is righteous for a time with a righteous king, another king comes to the throne that starts idol worship, the people follow the king into sin, there are wars with neighbors or civil wars, prophets predict calamity, sometimes calamity is averted but most times it is not, the people repent when they hit bottom and it starts all over again) but at least it's a little easier to keep things straight. Skousen uses references from the Biblical scholars of his time to fill in other parts so the reader understands what was going on elsewhere in the world (Assyria and Bablyon, Egypt and Greece, and so on.) As long as the reader remembers that Biblical scholarship has changed quite a bit since the series was published, then some of the more speculative notions can be weeded out.

For those who struggle with the Old Testament, this series might be sufficient to help sort things out, but there are probably other commentaries that might be more accurate when it comes to the more historical/archealogic research that could be considered when making a deep study of the Bible. Parents don't have to worry too much about teens wanting to read this stuff. It's dry. It's about the scriptures. Even though the sexual exploits of King David and some of the gruesome details of idol worship are briefly discussed, there is nothing terribly graphic. It's not light reading as far as the number of pages is concerned but it is meant for the adult who wishes a clearer understanding of the Old Testament beyond all the "begats". Of course if you just need something to cure insomnia, the series will do just fine.

Hey there, remember me?

A big thank you to my bro Andrew for picking up the slack on this blog with his literary criticism - a definite cultural improvement.

I just want to let any potential LDS writers know about a contest.

LDS fiction can be difficult to swallow I admit but there HAS to be some talented writers out there that can make a difference.

Please. If you are LDS and have a writer in you waiting to burst out, consider sending in a submission. LDS readers will thank you.

As for me, I'm digging out of my avalanche of moving boxes and hope to be reviewing again soon, in my own non-literary way.

Here's to a brand new year!

Sincerely, mormonhermitmom

Alain Bosquet's Conversations with Dali

UbuClassics, part of Kenneth Goldsmith’s UbuWeb project that facilitates the distribution of avant-garde educational materials, electronically publishes Conversations with Dali in 2003.  Alain Bosquet originally publishes his interview with the artist in 1969 with E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., of New York.  Joachim Neugroschel translates the book from French into English.  Bosquet interviews Salvador Dalí (or, to put it exactly, Salvador Domènec Felip Jacint Dalí i Domènec, Marquis de Púbol) during ten conversations at the Hôtel Meurice in Paris, France.  The “Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Conversations” are consolidated into one chapter and include the subtitle “100 Questions for Salvador Dali.”  The book also includes Dalí’s essay “The Conquest of the Irrational,” also translated by Neugroschel.  You can obtain a copy of this digital edition by going to http://www.ubu.com/historical/dali/index.html.

Salvador Dalí is an odd man; to call him an eccentric would be an understatement.  He wasn’t just part of the Surrealist movement; he was Surrealism.  “Without my surrealism, Surrealism would never have been what it is” (26, emphasis in original).  He knew members of—and can be considered a part of—the Generation of 1927.  I find him to be an artist that divides everyone into two camps: those that love his work and those that hate it.  His grotesque yet fluid images jolt onlookers with oneiric hallucinations, visions, and optical illusions.  His art provokes and taunts.  When reading these conversations, I am never sure when he is serious or when he is joking.  He sometimes comes off as offensively ridiculous or inspiringly talented, depending upon his mood at the moment.  He is unquestionably confident in his elitism, his conceit, and lickspittle attitude, but I can’t wait to see what he says or does next.  Even with his idiosyncrasies, I get the impression that he knows that he is cocky, toady, and flamboyant.  On top of that, he knows that you know that he knows it.  It is a sort of twisted humility that gives him license to be a clown and you the satisfaction of laughing at him with scornful pleasure.  But I can’t be sure, “For one thing is certain: I hate any form of simplicity whatsoever,” says Dalí (59).  There is never a dull moment with him.

This book is packed full of quotable material.  In the following, I reflect upon the concepts that have stood out to me the most.

“I live there now because I’m always in the middle of a cascade of checks that keep pouring in like diarrhea” (7).  This is one area where I think Dalí is a genius.  Out of all the artists and authors of his generation, he is the one who is able to profit most from his work.  He has this talent of crossing a proverbial minefield unharmed when it comes to adulating authority figures and commercial interests.  While many of his colleagues become exiles, he stays in Spain by verbally supporting the Franco regime (although he is a type of Mad Hatter, no one really knows what he believes in his heart of hearts).  However, other colleagues like Luis Buñuel think Dalí sold his artistic integrity for lucre.  In any case, Dalí does anything for his financial security as long as it gives him the freedom to act the way he wants.

Regarding art, he searches for ways to reinvent art in his individual pursuits and as a whole.  During the time of the interviews, he is investigating the development of op art.  Advantageously resourceful in this field, he knows and understands the history and movements of previous artists.  He explains his motive for researching op art: “The spectator will feel as if he could plunge his hands through those dots” (14).  Whether he realizes or not, he is thinking phenomenologically.  Had he lived long enough and been capable, he would have loved the digital age, the nature of digital pixels, and the new high definition technology of three-dimensional media.

An understanding of Sigmund Freud also helps in understanding Dalí.  A good book to read is Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams.  Dalí and Bosquet have this exchange:

     “A. B.: But what about the subject of the painting?

     “S. D.: The subject will remain Surrealist.

     “A. B.: What does that mean today?

     “S. D.: Any paranoic [sic] or subconscious situation” (14).

Paranoia.  That may be what makes Dalí tick.  This would explain this answer: “When I had the honor of first meeting Sigmund Freud in London, he explained to me in a few words that superstitions have an erotic and effective foundation in regard to dark forces.  Ever since, I’ve been immersing myself deeper and deeper in superstition” (43).  Dalí’s concept of paranoia recalls the documented studies of patients that Freud helps in interpreting their dreams.  Freud guides his patients to find the meaning of their own dream imagery, usually revealing the patient’s anxiety toward certain people, situations, or things.  Dalí gives his own definitions of paranoia and its conclusive creational end: “Paranoia: delirium of interpretative association involving a systematic structure—paranoid-critical activity: spontaneous method of irrational knowledge based on the interpretative-critical associate of delirium phenomena” (61, emphasis in original).  If the image is ambiguous enough, the observers can individually interpret it in different ways according to their particular intentionalities.  In a Freudian sense, these subjective points of view indicate some sort of repressed or subconscious sexual urge.  Dalí may have wanted to explore the oral stage of psychosexual development: “Man’s first philosophical instrument par excellence is his awareness of the real by his jaws” (31).  A good example of this is Dalí’s performance in a commercial for Lanvin Chocolate.

Dalí is also ahead of his time.  At various points in the conversations, he anticipates postmodern principles.  At one point he says, “I always encourage people to reproduce my paintings because I find the reproductions much better than the originals” (22).  A copy of an original, or even a copy of a copy, produces a simulacrum that becomes better than the real thing itself.  Jean Baudrillard does not discuss this principle of simulacra until the 1980s.

In another instance, Dalí discusses the fetishistic superficiality of images that Fredric Jameson does not discuss until the 1980s:

     “A. B.: If you were obliged to worship an everyday object as a relic, what would it be. [Sic]

     “S. D.: A pair of shoes” (32).

Andy Warhol’s Diamond Dust Shoes would have enthralled Dalí.  I wonder if there is a shrine of ladies pumps at El Teatre-Museu Dalí in Figueres, Spain.

This book will interest any person wanting to learn about Surrealism or Dalí.  This edition is not a perfect copy; there are quite a few typos.  However, given the fact that this electronic book is free, one can excuse the mistakes and gain valuable insight.  I give caution to some readers that may be offended by sexual and scatological references to tread this book with care.  Otherwise, you may be impressed with Dalí’s madness and genius.

Andrew

Andrew Has a New Film Blog

Mormonhermitmom invited me to contribute book reviews to her book blog almost a year ago.  It was one of my New Year’s resolutions and so far I haven’t broken it.  The main reason to contribute to this blog was to bolster my chances of getting noticed by Spanish departments in universities across the country.  If a recruiter or admissions agent requests an essay, I can just refer to this blog.  Better yet, that agent can choose the topic that suits his or her interest while the book review fulfills that portion of the application requirement.  In other words, I can kill two birds with one stone.  I have not yet heard anything from universities, but the fact that professors can access my writing samples takes a huge weight off my shoulders.

Many of my book selections come from a reading list that I received at the start of my master’s degree program.  Part of that list included movies of critical note.  Some of them are hard to get through libraries or rental services, so I have to buy them from import stores.  I needed to know those movies well for the final exams given at the end of the program.  I have started obtaining copies of movies from the list, but it doesn’t seem right to post film notes or reviews on a book blog even though they are considered “texts” in the literary world.

So, to accommodate the movie reviews, I have started another blog.  The title of the blog is:

http://ihavemyintentionalities.blogspot.com/

I hope my film blog will just be as rewarding as Mormonhermitmom’s book blog.  If you have a minute, check out my blog and maybe post a comment or two.

Andrew

Sam Brower's Prophet's Prey: My Seven-Year Investigation into Warren Jeffs and the Fundamentalist Church of Latter-Day Saints

Sometime in April of 2008 and after teaching a Spanish class at Brigham Young University, I returned to the graduate student offices in the Jesse Knight Building to continue the workday.  When I came in, I noticed most of my colleagues were surrounding one of the carrel desks with a computer.  Curious, I joined the circle and watched on the screen a feed from a news organization.  Children in prairie dresses were stepping onto a bus while workers were holding up sheets to protect their identities from the journalists’ cameras.  The reporter was explaining that Texas rangers had started searching the YFZ Ranch for a young teenage girl, who called saying that she was being sexually abused.  They did not find the teenage girl, but saw that a few others were showing signs of being pregnant.  They became concerned and had the local child protective services come and take the children away into state custody.  The screen then cut to a sound bite of a man with an almost white goatee.  The name “Sam Brower” appeared in the bar near the bottom of the screen.

“Wait a minute; I know him!” I hollered.  My colleagues glanced at me with inquisitive expressions.  “He’s a private investigator from my hometown,” I added, hoping they would forgive my interruption.  “He used to come to my father’s office to pick up subpoenas to serve on people.”  Satisfied, they turned their faces back to the computer screen and waited for the report to finish before commenting on the events.  They were shocked by the images of a religion that mirrored the practices of our religion in an anachronistically distorted way.

A few days later, a friend of mine (I don’t remember who at the moment) was reading an update of the YFZ Ranch raid in Texas.  On the computer screen, there was a picture of Warren Steed Jeffs embracing a twelve-year-old bride from behind.  In a demonstrative fashion, I shivered with repugnance.  The friend, noticing my show of emotion, took the devil’s advocate and argued that to FLDS members, such a union was not considered “disgusting” or immoral, so why should I judge them for their beliefs?  I argued that I justifiably reacted in such a way because legally and logically that twelve-year-old girl could not consent to such a union.  Therefore, the adult in this relationship clearly was taking advantage of her age and mentality to gain the benefit from this so-called marriage.  My friend said nothing more and returned to his news article.  I was a little taken aback by my friend’s uncharacteristic stance, but I concluded he was just arguing for the sake of debate and I didn’t take it too seriously.

I returned to my hometown after graduating from BYU.  A few months ago, I was at my father’s office working on some things when Sam Brower came to pick up some documents.  We started to catch up on what was happening in our lives since we last met.  He asked me what I had been doing and I related to him how I had finished a degree and had an article published in a scholarly journal.  Mr. Brower looked pleased and started relating his experiences in trying to get his book published, too.  We chatted for a while and the topic of his book came up.  He had given my father a galley and, coincidentally, I had read the first couple of chapters.  Later, I informed him that I was trying to become a critic of sorts and was submitting book reviews to this blog to help me practice my writing skills.  His ears perked up at the idea of my sister’s book blog and wondered if I could submit a book review of his work.  I certainly wanted to, but I wasn’t sure if his publisher would want me to peremptorily judge a work that hadn’t come out yet.  He said it would be fine, but I asked him to contact his publisher to make sure if it would be all right.  Before leaving, I gave him my contact information and Mr. Brower said that he would look into the matter.  If I got permission, then I would read the galley and submit a book review.  If not or if I didn’t hear from him, then I would wait for the book to come out.

I didn’t hear from him, so I did not submit a book review and I was reading other books in the meantime.  Fortunately, I was at my father’s office again on November 2nd and Mr. Brower came to speak with him.  My father was occupied and he had to wait, but while he waited he informed me that his book just got published and that he was going on book tours and attending television interviews.  I felt excited for him.  I informed him that I hadn’t found the time to read his galley, but I still wanted to read it and maybe write a book review.  He asked me to wait for a moment.  He walked out to his truck, brought in a fresh copy of his book, signed it, dedicated it, and gave it to me as a gift.  The gift made me happy.  It was not every day that I got to meet, much less know, an author of a book.  I thanked him for his gift and promised him that I would read it and notify him of my book review.  Having read it, I now submit the following sponsored book review.

Bloomsbury of New York, Berlin, London, and Sydney publishes a true story in 2011 entitled Prophet’s Prey: My Seven-Year Investigation into Warren Jeffs and the Fundamentalist Church of Latter-Day Saints by Sam Brower.  It includes a preface by Jon Krakauer—the author of the controversial Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith—a convenient index, acknowledgments, and a note on the author.  Brower begins by relating a story of Ross and Lori Chatwin’s family, whose head of the family gets excommunicated by the FLDS church and is pestered to leave his home and family.  Brower—“quiet by nature, but a pretty big guy” (15)—visits the Chatwins, listens to their financial and legal troubles, and gets hired to help them keep their residence.  Events ensue to convince Brower that the trouble the Chatwins face is more than just an issue of quiet and peaceful possession of one’s residence.  Brower witnesses the town authorities breaking state and federal laws.  Brower helps the Chatwins from losing their residence and starts investigating the many deep and insidious layers of corruption hidden beneath the quiet and quirky appearance of the FLDS religion.  Ultimately, he pursues Warren Jeffs, the leader of the FLDS church and the perpetrator of these crimes, who leads “a life of fraud, ritualistic sexual abuse of little girls, using young boys as slave labor, raping children of both sexes, robbing men of their possessions, and reassigning wives” (194).

Prophet’s Prey is not your typical non-fiction or private investigator story.  In fact, Brower’s book is better than Columbo and more harrowing than Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.  The book gives a realistic look into the profession and leaves the reader thanking his or her stars for brave men and women like Brower.  As an LDS author, he tells about his upbringing and his beliefs in religion, but he does not push the reader into accepting his religion or disdaining other religions.  He does disdain criminal activity, justifiably so.  He pursues criminals that happen to be FLDS and he researches the FLDS religion in order to understand how members of this faith think and act.

Brower makes sure to relate to the reader that the LDS and the FLDS are two very different things.  In a telephone conversation with a lawyer from the eastern United States, he is asked if it would be a conflict of interest for him to look into FLDS matters.  “How many times have I answered this question?” he writes, “In the minds of many Americans, if you are a Mormon man, then you must have a couple of wives.  Nothing could be farther from the truth” (55, emphasis in original).  I like his answer because I have answered this same question many times in a different context: “‘I’m not FLDS,’ I told her rather firmly.  ‘I’m LDS.’  Then I gave her the shorthand version of the stark differences, and I ended the lesson by saying, ‘The FLDS are no more Mormon than Lutherans are Catholics’” (55).

The fact that he gives this information is significant, because, although he receives valuable help from Jon Krakauer, he does not conclude that religion is inherently insane or violent like his mentor does.  (I have come upon some references regarding the controversial topic of Krakauer’s Under the Banner of Heaven.  Click here to read the LDS Church’s response to Krakauer’s book and click here to read Krakauer’s rebuttal.)

The descriptions and developments in the investigation of Warren Jeffs show how harrowing it can get when a megalomaniac gains leadership and control of an institution.  This comes up especially when he finds out that Jeffs directs “the building of a special bed to be used in temple rituals” (140).  For a casual LDS person, the idea of building a temple is not unusual, but when the same person finds out that an FLDS temple requires a bed/altar and that a “dozen chairs would surround it and a podium would overlook it”—a feature that never appears in an LDS temple—the concept becomes an egregious perversion.  (Such a practice calls more to the mind the Dionysian Mysteries than to a simple wedding ceremony.)

Another aspect of this book is the effective use of the media to jumpstart investigations by other entities.  When the local sheriff’s department does not come through with due diligence, his friend writes a newspaper article about the incident and pushes it into action.  “The news release worked,” Brower writes, “It led to appearances by Sheriff Kirk Smith and me on the nationally televised news show Deborah Norville Live, where we discussed the case in separate interviews” (162).  I have found a transcript of the program which you can read by clicking here.  (Additionally, you can see Sam Brower in a televised interview regarding the YFZ Ranch raid that had run on CBS News’s 48 Hours Mystery by clicking here.)

The book is well-written and credibly states its position.  It is a hard book to read, not in its form, but in its content.  The only criticism I have is just to correct a small detail.  On page 50, he describes the town of Short Creek settled by Rulon as “an isolated little town […] at the far southeastern end of Utah, along the Arizona Strip.”  Actually, the towns of Hildale, Utah and Colorado City, Arizona near Short Creek are at the southwestern end of Utah.  Arguably, Hildale rests near the southeastern corner of Washington County, thereby making the word “southeastern” correct.  This detail can be easily corrected with the next printing of the book, which I hope happens as the book continues to gain success with readers.

I recommend this book to adults and appropriate teenagers.  The subject matter is quite gruesome, but necessary to understand current events and criminal behavior.  The reading should also be accompanied by a critical mind and sufficient research to formulate beliefs and opinions in an educated and mature manner.  For me, this book is an enlightening experience and a modern revelation of a people that try furtively to keep to themselves from the outside world.  If I had had this book when my friend challenged my reaction to the picture of Warren Jeffs and his very young bride, then I would have slapped the book on the carrel desk and said, “Here, read this!”

Congratulations, Mr. Brower!

Andrew