Review
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Title: Worthy: A Memoir
Author: Denice Turner
Publisher: University of Nevada Press
Genre: memoir
Year Published: 2015
Number of Pages: 213
Binding: paper
ISBN13: 978-0-87417-968-2
Price: $21.95
Reviewed by Julie J. Nichols for the Association of Mormon Letters
That there are so many memoirs by disaffected Mormon women, certain the Church has done them wrong and concluding that leaving is the only possible course of action, must mean *something.*
But wait. When I look up “memoirs by disaffected Mormon women,” what I find is actually not as simple as I’d thought. *Confessions of a Latter-day Virgin* (Nicole Hardy, 2013); *The Book of Mormon Girl* (Joanna Brooks, 2012); *Flunking Sainthood* (Jana Reiss, 2011—admittedly not overtly about Mormonism, though Reiss is closely tied to the Church); and *The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance* (Elna Baker, 2010) are filled with humor (of both the raucous and the good-will sort) and justifiable laughter at the foibles of those who interpret both cultural and doctrinal injunctions in ways that subvert goodness and mercy, good sense and merciful hearts. The lesser known *Diary of a Single Mormon Female* (Aleesa Sutton, 2013) and *Mormon Diaries* (Sophia L. Stone, 2012), along with openly hostile memoirs like *When I Was A F****** Mormon* (Bailey Jones, 2012) and *Out of Mormonism* (Judy Robertson, 2011) are balanced by collections like Frances Menlove’s 2013 *The Challenge of Honesty* and Claudia Bushman’s 2013 *Mormon Women Have Their Say,* and Phyllis Barber’s 2014 narrative *To the Mountain,* books whose complexity and intelligence belie accusations that Mormonism is mind control, that faithful Latter-day Saint women are foolish. The truth seems to be that the response to Mormonism is as varied as the women within it.
Denice Turner’s *Worthy* is, befitting its title, another worthy addition to the growing assortment of excellently-written self-disclosures exploring the impact of the Church on its female members, an impact neither simple, monolithic, nor easy to characterize in a single phrase.
Turner is a “specialist in life story,” with a PhD from the University of Nevada, Reno. She is now an associate professor in linguistics education at Black Hills State University in Spearfish, South Dakota. In basic terms, *Worthy* is the story of her investigation of her mother’s awful death in a house fire in Roy, Utah. But that’s like saying *Book of Mormon Girl* is the story of Joanna Brooks’s shifting attitudes about the Mormon Church. There’s a great deal more to it than that. Many dark and knotted threads are woven into what is ultimately a moving account of Turner’s—and her mother’s—lifelong struggle with shame, depression, and the quest for self-acceptance in a family culture that essentially denied their right to it.
This psychospiritual tragedy is not entirely the Church’s fault, but neither is Utah culture blameless. Like every true and interesting aspect of the human experience, both the individual characters and the forces around them have a part in what transpires, not only before and at the time of death, but after. I’m glad to report that though the end is not all roses and birdsong, the story is compelling from the first page. (A student of mine picked up the book, read for five minutes, and wanted to borrow it immediately.) Readers may wince, may even wish to stop reading, but the narrative is powerful. Sometimes it’s the mystery that keeps us reading (where’s the purse with the money mentioned on p. 21? What exactly was Denice’s mother’s illness?). But even after those initial questions are answered, as in any fine story, the implications and the ripple effect keep us wondering: now what? And then after that?
Chapter by chapter, we follow Turner back and forth through time, between the months following the fire and the many difficult years leading up to it. She recounts the dismantling of the burned-out house by father and sister, describing her suppressed grief and anger with an honesty that hurts. As in the best life writing, she reveals herself as clearly as she reveals the circumstances of her life. She would not have been an easy daughter to raise, or an easy wife to be married to. But she doesn’t hide any of that.
Nor does she hide her mother’s mental and physical health problems, her hoarding, her addiction to her family of origin despite their emotional abuse. The puzzle of her mother’s father (critical, unkind, rich but withholding, judgmental and biased in his bequests) and the suicides of two of her mother’s brothers comprises much of the book. I kept hoping for optimistic moments, moments of grace, but they were few.
Turner’s own therapy was successful enough in saving her marriage that she recommended therapy to her mother—but that backfired. The therapist was New Agey and seductive, and Turner’s mother seemed to shower the therapist with the affection Turner could have wished for herself. Family reunions, meetings with individual extended family members, and excruciating reflection about her conflicted relationship with objects and people having to do with her mother’s family—all take their hard place in this heartwrenching story.
As her father and sister clean out the gutted house and Turner accepts or rejects memorabilia from the myriad storage units where her mother kept her things, a picture emerges of a family whose dysfunctions extend unhappily through generations. Redemption, if any is to be found in this book, is not so much in grand reconciliations but in small recognitions. Gradually Turner’s dreams become less disturbing and more accepting. Her father remarries. She takes fierce comfort in her own family. Though the final image does not mop up all traces of mess, it does satisfy.
Turner is a lovely writer. For those deeply interested in the individual psyche, in non-stereotypical Mormon family dynamics, and in intelligent, feeling writing about life circumstances and their far-reaching effects, this is a very fine work. I recommend it highly.