What do you think?
Rate this book
I Want to Be Left Behind: Finding Rapture Here on Earth
In Brenda Peterson’s unusual memoir, fundamentalism meets deep ecology. The author’s childhood in the high Sierra with her forest ranger father led her to embrace the entire natural world, while her Southern Baptist relatives prepared eagerly and busily to leave this world. Peterson survived fierce “sword drill” competitions demanding total recall of the Scriptures and awkward dinner table questions (“Will Rapture take the cat, too?”) only to find that environmentalists with prophecies of doom can also be Endtimers. Peterson paints such a hilarious, loving portrait of each world that the reader, too, may want to be Left Behind.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published October 19, 2009
10 people are currently reading
309 people want to read
About the author
Brenda Peterson
55 books81 followersBrenda Peterson is the author of over 20 books, including the recently released murder mystery, Stiletto. Her first memoir Build Me an Ark: A Life with Animals, chosen as a “Best Spiritual Book of 2001,” to three novels, one of which, Duck and Cover, was chosen by New York Times as a Notable Book of the Year. Her second memoir, a dark comedy of family and faith, is I Want To Be Left Behind: Finding Rapture Here on Earth; it was selected by The Christian Science Monitor among the Top Ten Best Non-Fiction Books and chosen by independent bookstores as an Indie Next and a Great Read.
Her non-fiction has appeared in numerous national newspapers, journals, and magazines, including The New York Times, Chicago Tribune, San Francisco Chronicle, Seattle Times, Reader’s Digest, Christian Science Monitor, O: The Oprah Magazine, and Utne Reader. Oprah.com featured her Your Life is a Book: How to Craft and Publish Your Memoir. Her new kid’s are Wild Orca and Lobo: A Wolf Family Returns Home.
Her non-fiction has appeared in numerous national newspapers, journals, and magazines, including The New York Times, Chicago Tribune, San Francisco Chronicle, Seattle Times, Reader’s Digest, Christian Science Monitor, O: The Oprah Magazine, and Utne Reader. Oprah.com featured her Your Life is a Book: How to Craft and Publish Your Memoir. Her new kid’s are Wild Orca and Lobo: A Wolf Family Returns Home.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 62 reviews
Read
February 14, 2010I am the author Brenda Peterson's youngest sister. I am writing to tell readers that approximately 99% of the events described in my sister’s "Memoir" are completely false. Moreover, the quotes she attributes to our parents are likewise false. Additionally, the picture she paints of our faith is such a caricature that I do not even recognize it.
Just a few examples: Our father was never a Forest Ranger. He worked for the U.S. Forest Service and eventually became Chief of the entire Forest Service in 1979. Brenda was never "thrown out of" vacation Bible School, nor was she punished by our parents for such alleged event by forcing her to "read the Bible." There were never any riots in her high school here in northern Virginia when she was a student, as she claims. She never had to work to "help pay [her:] tuition for college" Our parents paid for every dime of her 4 year college education. Our mother never presented an American flag to a CIA operative's family when he died. Our mother was a secretary at the CIA, and a secretary would not be sent to fulfill such a solemn task. Our family never had a "life size velvet painting of Smokey Bear with my father's face, holding a shovel in one hand and a Bible in the other..." Our church choir never went to St Elizabeth's Mental Hospital and sang for the residents there, and that entire scene of an old woman plopping a cupcake on her head during the visit never occurred. Our family, whom she describes on page one as "giddily anticipating the end of the world" never ONCE discussed the "Rapture" while we were growing up. Not once. Nor did our pastor in Virginia ever once preach about it [as Brenda claims he incessantly did.:] Brenda never had a stutter, nor stopped speaking for 6 weeks, as she claimed, while she was growing up. She never stopped speaking for even one day. Brenda never killed our grandfather's puppies. A rattlesnake never curled up on her abdomen when she was sleeping in the forest as a toddler. In fact, Brenda and our parents moved from Quincy, CA, where she was born, to San Diego, CA in April 1953, when Brenda was only 2 1/2. Thus, the claim that she had to "put on shoes" and move to Harvard and leave the "mountain-top" when she was 8 is also false. We never lived in Berkeley, CA. We lived in a suburb of San Francisco: Orinda. Our father never admonished Brenda to "keep your thoughts to yourself" when Brenda supposedly asked him a question about her ant farm at the dinner table one night. Brenda never worked at a "Southern Baptist boot camp" as she claims. She went to Glorieta as a camper, paid for by our parents, and was never "fired" for bringing food to indigent Native tribes. Our family never had discussions about the Rapture or Mormon plural marriages at our reunion in Colorado. Our father never told her "Your mind is so open it is one big hole."
I could go on and on recounting the vast number of lies she has told in this book, but I believe you will get the point with the few examples listed herein. Our father earned a 4.0 GPA when he was at Harvard, and is one of the most intelligent people I know. Our mother is likewise extremely smart, and the picture Brenda paints of her especially is completely false, and in my opinion defamatory. Our parents, who are now 81 and 82, are deeply hurt by what Brenda has written in this book. They do not deserve to be slandered by her, nor does our faith, which Brenda continuously caricatures throughout this book.
I am certain Mr. Beason recalls the author James Frey, who wrote a "Memoir" entitled A Million Little Pieces. He fabricated large portions of his Memoir. Brenda has followed suit with hers. No fact check was done by the publisher of Brenda's book regarding the lies about our parents and our faith. When we found out that Brenda was writing a "Memoir", we asked her to send our parents a copy of what she was writing. She refused. After 9 months of continually asking for a copy of the book, she finally sent Dad and Mom a copy on January 12, 2010, after the book had already been published. Can any parent imagine being portrayed so falsely and derisively?
Marla Peterson
Just a few examples: Our father was never a Forest Ranger. He worked for the U.S. Forest Service and eventually became Chief of the entire Forest Service in 1979. Brenda was never "thrown out of" vacation Bible School, nor was she punished by our parents for such alleged event by forcing her to "read the Bible." There were never any riots in her high school here in northern Virginia when she was a student, as she claims. She never had to work to "help pay [her:] tuition for college" Our parents paid for every dime of her 4 year college education. Our mother never presented an American flag to a CIA operative's family when he died. Our mother was a secretary at the CIA, and a secretary would not be sent to fulfill such a solemn task. Our family never had a "life size velvet painting of Smokey Bear with my father's face, holding a shovel in one hand and a Bible in the other..." Our church choir never went to St Elizabeth's Mental Hospital and sang for the residents there, and that entire scene of an old woman plopping a cupcake on her head during the visit never occurred. Our family, whom she describes on page one as "giddily anticipating the end of the world" never ONCE discussed the "Rapture" while we were growing up. Not once. Nor did our pastor in Virginia ever once preach about it [as Brenda claims he incessantly did.:] Brenda never had a stutter, nor stopped speaking for 6 weeks, as she claimed, while she was growing up. She never stopped speaking for even one day. Brenda never killed our grandfather's puppies. A rattlesnake never curled up on her abdomen when she was sleeping in the forest as a toddler. In fact, Brenda and our parents moved from Quincy, CA, where she was born, to San Diego, CA in April 1953, when Brenda was only 2 1/2. Thus, the claim that she had to "put on shoes" and move to Harvard and leave the "mountain-top" when she was 8 is also false. We never lived in Berkeley, CA. We lived in a suburb of San Francisco: Orinda. Our father never admonished Brenda to "keep your thoughts to yourself" when Brenda supposedly asked him a question about her ant farm at the dinner table one night. Brenda never worked at a "Southern Baptist boot camp" as she claims. She went to Glorieta as a camper, paid for by our parents, and was never "fired" for bringing food to indigent Native tribes. Our family never had discussions about the Rapture or Mormon plural marriages at our reunion in Colorado. Our father never told her "Your mind is so open it is one big hole."
I could go on and on recounting the vast number of lies she has told in this book, but I believe you will get the point with the few examples listed herein. Our father earned a 4.0 GPA when he was at Harvard, and is one of the most intelligent people I know. Our mother is likewise extremely smart, and the picture Brenda paints of her especially is completely false, and in my opinion defamatory. Our parents, who are now 81 and 82, are deeply hurt by what Brenda has written in this book. They do not deserve to be slandered by her, nor does our faith, which Brenda continuously caricatures throughout this book.
I am certain Mr. Beason recalls the author James Frey, who wrote a "Memoir" entitled A Million Little Pieces. He fabricated large portions of his Memoir. Brenda has followed suit with hers. No fact check was done by the publisher of Brenda's book regarding the lies about our parents and our faith. When we found out that Brenda was writing a "Memoir", we asked her to send our parents a copy of what she was writing. She refused. After 9 months of continually asking for a copy of the book, she finally sent Dad and Mom a copy on January 12, 2010, after the book had already been published. Can any parent imagine being portrayed so falsely and derisively?
Marla Peterson
September 13, 2012
I very much enjoyed this, in no small part because it hit my own experience so squarely--raised Southern Baptist but clearly destined from an early age for another spiritual path, writer, animal and nature lover. Peterson writes well and tells a good story. I appreciated her insights about being "liberal" in a evangelical family (like Peterson's, mine is not fundamentalist), and the comparisons between End Times believers and environmental doomsayers. Nicely done memoir I would recommend to the right person.
I will also attach here the review I wrote for the UU World magazine:
A “green-diaper baby,” Brenda Peterson fell in love with primeval forests and especially wildlife at a young age. Her family moved often, following her father’s career with the U.S. Forest Service, which he headed in the 1980s.
Her own childhood career, she says, was the Southern Baptist church, with its “quasi-military marching songs, extravagant potlucks, and serious biblical scholarship made into children’s games,” which she excelled at. She was at church with her family every night. But her love of the earth and science was what really shaped her personal theology: that miracles were really natural events, that humans were simply another animal.
A Sunday School teacher’s declaration that animals do not have an afterlife set off her crisis of faith: how was it “possible to love God and not forsake all his creatures…to love this earth and still long to leave it”?
I Want to Be Left Behind is a series of well-told stories of how Peterson wrestles with the conflicts between her conservative religious upbringing and her love of the earth, between the longings of her own soul and her love for her family. Her sharp wit makes the seriousness of her task always entertaining: “I promise not to be myself,” she assures her brother before one family reunion. During a family debate over global warming, she thinks inwardly: “…whoever had invented the ‘Reply to All’ in e-mail should be shot. Being on the family distribution list is like having a virus of Fox News invade my in-box.”
She turns her scrutiny on both her chosen world of liberal values and her family’s religious beliefs—finding fault and virtue in both, as well as common ground.
For five years after college, Peterson lived in New York City, rubbing shoulders with the literati, while writing her first novel about snake-handling believers. Her evangelical powerhouse of a mother came by train to pay a visit, determined to find her backslid daughter a church. Find one she did—the Southern Baptist Church in Harlem. Decked out in a pink veiled hat and heels, her mother chatted up the elderly deacon about their Southern “roots,” to the mortification of her daughter, warily checking out the other congregants. As the roaring preacher quoted Martin Luther King, Langston Hughes, and First John’s message of “God is love,” and the organist rocked old Baptist gospel standards, both women couldn’t help but join in with gusto.
Peterson grasped then that her mother just might be less racist and more open-hearted than she was herself, always armed with mace in her purse. Throughout the book, she considers whether belief in the Rapture may be one response, perhaps even a genetically wired one, to fears bigger than we can handle.
Frustrated by “conservationists who were sometimes as hardline and self-righteous as Southern Baptists,” she drew up a chart of traits she found on both sides: “Enraptured by doom…Thou shalt not…Holier than Thou…humorless…blame, shame, judgment” and so on. “What if both camps simply stopped all their fearmongering and found a new story?” she asks. “We might imagine a future in which all species flourish, along with us.”
Peterson is at her most inspiring when she writes about her own rapturous encounters with wildlife. She is part of a community seal-sitting project on Seattle’s Alki Beach: 100 neighbors trained by the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration to watch over seal pups while their mothers hunt for up to 48 hours at a time. In the touching prologue, a fellow seal sitter offers her a will to inherit his worldly possessions when the Rapture comes. Watching the tides, seabirds, and baby seals, she confesses to him what I know is not easy for a Southern Baptist girl: “I really want to be left behind.”
A shadow has been cast over Peterson’s memoir by her sister Marla, who has alleged that many of the personal and family stories have been embellished or made up, wherever the book is reviewed online.
Memoirists always risk offending family and friends, and exposing how they’ve misremembered, reconciled their pain, and embellished their stories, unconsciously or not. That is the central problem for this burgeoning genre. Memoir is memory, not fact, even though it’s classified as nonfiction. I have been repeatedly baffled, especially by family members who hold a different religious or political world-view, at how we remember incidents that I considered pivotal in my life in factually opposite ways—just as I am mystified that we could have come from the same background.
Many of the facts in question are a case of she said/she said. I have no trouble believing Peterson may have inflated her highly entertaining stories. Yet her telling of the journey of her life, and the lessons learned negotiating her way as a liberal in a conservative religious family, ring completely true.
I will also attach here the review I wrote for the UU World magazine:
A “green-diaper baby,” Brenda Peterson fell in love with primeval forests and especially wildlife at a young age. Her family moved often, following her father’s career with the U.S. Forest Service, which he headed in the 1980s.
Her own childhood career, she says, was the Southern Baptist church, with its “quasi-military marching songs, extravagant potlucks, and serious biblical scholarship made into children’s games,” which she excelled at. She was at church with her family every night. But her love of the earth and science was what really shaped her personal theology: that miracles were really natural events, that humans were simply another animal.
A Sunday School teacher’s declaration that animals do not have an afterlife set off her crisis of faith: how was it “possible to love God and not forsake all his creatures…to love this earth and still long to leave it”?
I Want to Be Left Behind is a series of well-told stories of how Peterson wrestles with the conflicts between her conservative religious upbringing and her love of the earth, between the longings of her own soul and her love for her family. Her sharp wit makes the seriousness of her task always entertaining: “I promise not to be myself,” she assures her brother before one family reunion. During a family debate over global warming, she thinks inwardly: “…whoever had invented the ‘Reply to All’ in e-mail should be shot. Being on the family distribution list is like having a virus of Fox News invade my in-box.”
She turns her scrutiny on both her chosen world of liberal values and her family’s religious beliefs—finding fault and virtue in both, as well as common ground.
For five years after college, Peterson lived in New York City, rubbing shoulders with the literati, while writing her first novel about snake-handling believers. Her evangelical powerhouse of a mother came by train to pay a visit, determined to find her backslid daughter a church. Find one she did—the Southern Baptist Church in Harlem. Decked out in a pink veiled hat and heels, her mother chatted up the elderly deacon about their Southern “roots,” to the mortification of her daughter, warily checking out the other congregants. As the roaring preacher quoted Martin Luther King, Langston Hughes, and First John’s message of “God is love,” and the organist rocked old Baptist gospel standards, both women couldn’t help but join in with gusto.
Peterson grasped then that her mother just might be less racist and more open-hearted than she was herself, always armed with mace in her purse. Throughout the book, she considers whether belief in the Rapture may be one response, perhaps even a genetically wired one, to fears bigger than we can handle.
Frustrated by “conservationists who were sometimes as hardline and self-righteous as Southern Baptists,” she drew up a chart of traits she found on both sides: “Enraptured by doom…Thou shalt not…Holier than Thou…humorless…blame, shame, judgment” and so on. “What if both camps simply stopped all their fearmongering and found a new story?” she asks. “We might imagine a future in which all species flourish, along with us.”
Peterson is at her most inspiring when she writes about her own rapturous encounters with wildlife. She is part of a community seal-sitting project on Seattle’s Alki Beach: 100 neighbors trained by the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration to watch over seal pups while their mothers hunt for up to 48 hours at a time. In the touching prologue, a fellow seal sitter offers her a will to inherit his worldly possessions when the Rapture comes. Watching the tides, seabirds, and baby seals, she confesses to him what I know is not easy for a Southern Baptist girl: “I really want to be left behind.”
A shadow has been cast over Peterson’s memoir by her sister Marla, who has alleged that many of the personal and family stories have been embellished or made up, wherever the book is reviewed online.
Memoirists always risk offending family and friends, and exposing how they’ve misremembered, reconciled their pain, and embellished their stories, unconsciously or not. That is the central problem for this burgeoning genre. Memoir is memory, not fact, even though it’s classified as nonfiction. I have been repeatedly baffled, especially by family members who hold a different religious or political world-view, at how we remember incidents that I considered pivotal in my life in factually opposite ways—just as I am mystified that we could have come from the same background.
Many of the facts in question are a case of she said/she said. I have no trouble believing Peterson may have inflated her highly entertaining stories. Yet her telling of the journey of her life, and the lessons learned negotiating her way as a liberal in a conservative religious family, ring completely true.
September 9, 2010
Reviewed in conjunction with Where's My Wand?: One Boy's Magical Triumph Over Alienation and Shag Carpeting
I read these memoirs back to back inside of a week and, despite their differences, it’s difficult to review them separately. At their core, both are memoirs about growing up as the outlier in a Southern Baptist family and finding personal faith within that environment. The authors differ in their approach – Mr. Poole glides through his tome with humor while religion is front, center, and sideways in Ms. Peterson’s world.
I began I Want to Be Left Behind with the wrong expectations: I expected a funny, touching account of Ms. Peterson’s journey while the book is much more of a flat arc detailing her status as the odd duck of her family. If you’re looking for a story of a journey from religious to spiritual, go elsewhere.
For that matter, I expected some scandal after seeing Ms. Peterson’s youngest sister’s incessant “reviews” on any and every site before reading the book (which is interesting, given some of the information I found that indicated the sister likely has her own agenda in taking a family feud public). There’s no scandal or, for that matter, any real tension in the book: there’s a lot of telling but no showing. The characters are neither demons nor saints – rather, they’re flat. Ms. Peterson’s unresolved issues and passive aggressive tone overwhelm the book. If anyone comes across poorly here, it’s her. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was closer to twenty than sixty: at some point, adults need to make peace with their childhood and move on – especially if one is going to write a book about finding rapture on earth.
But it’s the lack of arc that I find difficult to forgive. This memoir suggests (although Ms. Peterson denies this) that she exchanged one type of extreme and narrow viewpoint for another. This book is what I classify as the worst sort of memoir: self-centered ramblings from someone with an unjustified superiority complex.
After I Want to Be Left Behind, I apprehensively began Where’s My Wand? as I couldn’t handle additional literary narcissism. In June, I had attended an author event for the book, and it ranks as one of the worst author talks I’ve ever attended. While Mr. Poole was generally amusing (although his comment indicating the book was simply a way to get a foot in the door for a television show bugged – books are more than a stepping stone to Hollywood! They are their own art form!), the crowd was mostly his friends and associates (despite being a public event, I felt like I was intruding on a private party) and were the worst of shallow Los Angeles. I did stay for the event, and despite finding the excerpt entertaining, I left without a copy of the book, unsure if I would even read the book. However, the excerpt had been quite good, and I overcame my annoyance and checked the book out of the library.
I say all of this to explain that despite a desire to hate this book, I found it everything charming. It’s a sweet book that’s funny and touching and lightly veers between both with no effort. It has much more of an arc that one would expect from a book compared to David Sedaris’ work. Each chapter is a vignette while also part of a story about growing up and learning about the elusive and changing nature of imagination, faith, and identity. Mr. Poole successfully walks a fine line and deftly captures his family’s foibles while still loving them. As a child of the Midwest myself, I loved how Mr. Poole embraced the humor in a Midwestern upbringing without mocking it. This book could have very easily been either a rant about unresolved childhood issues or an uncomfortable satire full of unlovable characters. Instead it navigates the line between the two, and the result is both genuine and funny (and if that’s because Mr. Poole is simply a master advertiser, frankly, I like my ignorance and belief that it is real).
I’m sure some people will disagree and say these books have nothing in common, that the authors had different goals in writing them. That may be true, but I still found them interesting contrasts. They demonstrate that as adults, we have two choices when it comes to our formative years: we can focus on the negative and let our upbringings drag us down, or we can embrace the good, learn from the bad, and let both launch us into the rest of our lives. These two books capture those two extremes, and here, it is only the latter that succeeds. And so, I recommend only Where’s My Wand? (along with the suggestion to check it out from a library rather than purchase it).
I read these memoirs back to back inside of a week and, despite their differences, it’s difficult to review them separately. At their core, both are memoirs about growing up as the outlier in a Southern Baptist family and finding personal faith within that environment. The authors differ in their approach – Mr. Poole glides through his tome with humor while religion is front, center, and sideways in Ms. Peterson’s world.
I began I Want to Be Left Behind with the wrong expectations: I expected a funny, touching account of Ms. Peterson’s journey while the book is much more of a flat arc detailing her status as the odd duck of her family. If you’re looking for a story of a journey from religious to spiritual, go elsewhere.
For that matter, I expected some scandal after seeing Ms. Peterson’s youngest sister’s incessant “reviews” on any and every site before reading the book (which is interesting, given some of the information I found that indicated the sister likely has her own agenda in taking a family feud public). There’s no scandal or, for that matter, any real tension in the book: there’s a lot of telling but no showing. The characters are neither demons nor saints – rather, they’re flat. Ms. Peterson’s unresolved issues and passive aggressive tone overwhelm the book. If anyone comes across poorly here, it’s her. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was closer to twenty than sixty: at some point, adults need to make peace with their childhood and move on – especially if one is going to write a book about finding rapture on earth.
But it’s the lack of arc that I find difficult to forgive. This memoir suggests (although Ms. Peterson denies this) that she exchanged one type of extreme and narrow viewpoint for another. This book is what I classify as the worst sort of memoir: self-centered ramblings from someone with an unjustified superiority complex.
After I Want to Be Left Behind, I apprehensively began Where’s My Wand? as I couldn’t handle additional literary narcissism. In June, I had attended an author event for the book, and it ranks as one of the worst author talks I’ve ever attended. While Mr. Poole was generally amusing (although his comment indicating the book was simply a way to get a foot in the door for a television show bugged – books are more than a stepping stone to Hollywood! They are their own art form!), the crowd was mostly his friends and associates (despite being a public event, I felt like I was intruding on a private party) and were the worst of shallow Los Angeles. I did stay for the event, and despite finding the excerpt entertaining, I left without a copy of the book, unsure if I would even read the book. However, the excerpt had been quite good, and I overcame my annoyance and checked the book out of the library.
I say all of this to explain that despite a desire to hate this book, I found it everything charming. It’s a sweet book that’s funny and touching and lightly veers between both with no effort. It has much more of an arc that one would expect from a book compared to David Sedaris’ work. Each chapter is a vignette while also part of a story about growing up and learning about the elusive and changing nature of imagination, faith, and identity. Mr. Poole successfully walks a fine line and deftly captures his family’s foibles while still loving them. As a child of the Midwest myself, I loved how Mr. Poole embraced the humor in a Midwestern upbringing without mocking it. This book could have very easily been either a rant about unresolved childhood issues or an uncomfortable satire full of unlovable characters. Instead it navigates the line between the two, and the result is both genuine and funny (and if that’s because Mr. Poole is simply a master advertiser, frankly, I like my ignorance and belief that it is real).
I’m sure some people will disagree and say these books have nothing in common, that the authors had different goals in writing them. That may be true, but I still found them interesting contrasts. They demonstrate that as adults, we have two choices when it comes to our formative years: we can focus on the negative and let our upbringings drag us down, or we can embrace the good, learn from the bad, and let both launch us into the rest of our lives. These two books capture those two extremes, and here, it is only the latter that succeeds. And so, I recommend only Where’s My Wand? (along with the suggestion to check it out from a library rather than purchase it).
May 10, 2010
Brenda Peterson is the rare writer that hits on such Jungian truths with her stories that the details seem to be written in ink that fades in the light of that truth. By addressing her struggle with belief in a God too often defined through the rules of religious bodies that want to "claim" the truth, Brenda takes us along her journey and allows us to make our own.
As the daughter of the "Joe & Sue" in this book, I am proud of the courage and vulnerability Brenda is willing to exhibit through her words. It's a frightening thing to put your doubts on pages, to question religious views, to wonder about something omnipotent.
Read this book, and you'll suddenly realize where you are on your own path of self-discovery. You'll recognize that the tangibles of nature and the intangibles of spirit are not so very different. Brenda has woven a beautiful quilt with threads of thought that exhibit how humans weak with fear can reach through different channels to touch the same face of God.
Thank you Brenda!
As the daughter of the "Joe & Sue" in this book, I am proud of the courage and vulnerability Brenda is willing to exhibit through her words. It's a frightening thing to put your doubts on pages, to question religious views, to wonder about something omnipotent.
Read this book, and you'll suddenly realize where you are on your own path of self-discovery. You'll recognize that the tangibles of nature and the intangibles of spirit are not so very different. Brenda has woven a beautiful quilt with threads of thought that exhibit how humans weak with fear can reach through different channels to touch the same face of God.
Thank you Brenda!
March 27, 2010
Bleh. After reading her "sister's" comment about how so much in the memoir isn't true, it seemed overwrought and repetitive. Why read a poorly written, potentially fictional memoir when there are so many other great books to read?!
November 22, 2010
As a recovering Fundamentalist, I liked the idea of this book, but I just couldn't get past her poor writing.
August 20, 2011
Not to be missed. Along with "Deer Hunting with Jesus" and "Crazy for God" gives a valuable and solidly interesting picture of the Evangelical Right --and those who've left yet still maintain family, compassionate ties. "I Want" is particularly interesting because of Brenda Peterson's deep love for the earth, and her work to live with it wisely, rather than to look forward to escaping it. She also does a very telling comparison of fundamentalist Christians and fundamentalist environmentalists.
May 15, 2011
I was hoping for some philosophical ruminations on fundamentalist beliefs (not just religious, but also the author's own recognition that end-times fundamentalism is also rampant in the environmental movement she now belongs to). What I found instead was another boring, wishy-washy, pointlessly meandering memoir.
Yawn.
Further proof that we need a federal prohibition on memoir writing.
Yawn.
Further proof that we need a federal prohibition on memoir writing.
March 30, 2010
There were portions of this book that I enjoyed, but it just didn't work for me as a whole. It didn't flow well, and it didn't endear me. The most interesting parts were the outdoor adventures and quotes from other authors and friends.
May 27, 2011
Brenda Peterson is my favorite author and I have loved everything she has written, but this one wasn't as great. It's a memoir so maybe I just prefer her essays and fiction to creative non-fiction...
August 27, 2018
In spite of the fact her sister posted a review saying much of the memoir is fabricated, I was still interested in reading it. I enjoyed parts of the book. However, it lost me about half-way when she started to sound a bit too "holier-than-thou" about her own beliefs. I haven't read her other books, but this one lost its way. I struggled to finish it, but probably should have abandoned it earlier and found another book (from a different author.)
October 11, 2018
An interesting personal memoir full of theological reflection as the author recounts her fundamentalist childhood and family and her own spiritual journey as an environmentalist and naturalist. Overall I liked it, although I found it dragged on a bit in places.
June 2, 2019
Hey language is luminal and her viewpoint unique.
January 22, 2021
Good, solid three stars. A good distraction...
November 20, 2012
Brenda Peterson had a fundamentalist Southern Baptist upbringing that she found constricting. For her, caring for the earth we occupy is a higher priority than aspiring to a far-off heavenly home.
Much of the book chronicles Ms. Peterson's watchful care of the seals that live in her backyard Seattle beach. But are her memories of her upbringing, and her ascerbic depiction of her family's Christianity, equally as genuine? I doubt it. So many things in the book struck me as false.
For example, sword drills -- that evangelical staple of Sunday Schools and Vacation Bible Schools -- are an exercise in locating a Bible reference quickly. They are not an organized regional competitive endeavor, as spelling bees are, so I just didn't believe her scene of losing her faith onstage at one such event.
I cannot believe a child would be thrown out of Vacation Bible School, as she claims she was after declaring that God wasn't interested in helping her teacher find a contact lens. In churches, declarations of disbelief -- especially from a child -- warrant further teaching and earnest prayer, not banishment. Likewise, I can't believe she was thrown out as a worker at a Christian summer camp. If she was as vocal as she claims to have been about not being a believer, she could never have worked at such a camp; they generally require you to sign a statement of belief.
Ms. Peterson completely lost me when she recounts a purported scene in a grocery store when she decides to "transmigrate" her soul into another shopper. Her target supposedly begins shaking her head, stomping her feet, wailing and tearing up her grocery list, while her baby howls in tandem, "a ghastly, banshee yowl." Please.
To me, this book seems a fanciful recounting of a childhood invented for the purpose of a good story.
Much of the book chronicles Ms. Peterson's watchful care of the seals that live in her backyard Seattle beach. But are her memories of her upbringing, and her ascerbic depiction of her family's Christianity, equally as genuine? I doubt it. So many things in the book struck me as false.
For example, sword drills -- that evangelical staple of Sunday Schools and Vacation Bible Schools -- are an exercise in locating a Bible reference quickly. They are not an organized regional competitive endeavor, as spelling bees are, so I just didn't believe her scene of losing her faith onstage at one such event.
I cannot believe a child would be thrown out of Vacation Bible School, as she claims she was after declaring that God wasn't interested in helping her teacher find a contact lens. In churches, declarations of disbelief -- especially from a child -- warrant further teaching and earnest prayer, not banishment. Likewise, I can't believe she was thrown out as a worker at a Christian summer camp. If she was as vocal as she claims to have been about not being a believer, she could never have worked at such a camp; they generally require you to sign a statement of belief.
Ms. Peterson completely lost me when she recounts a purported scene in a grocery store when she decides to "transmigrate" her soul into another shopper. Her target supposedly begins shaking her head, stomping her feet, wailing and tearing up her grocery list, while her baby howls in tandem, "a ghastly, banshee yowl." Please.
To me, this book seems a fanciful recounting of a childhood invented for the purpose of a good story.
July 1, 2011
Brenda Peterson grew up in an evangelical Christian household, the daughter of a forest ranger. Her parents moved frequently for her father's job, and the family subscribed to the religious doctrine that states that Christians will be raptured in the end times, and all others will be left behind. The Rapture never sits well with Brenda, and from an early age, she's branded as the family rebel. As she grows and learns more about life and religion, Brenda finds her own version of peace and worship in the beauty of nature, and luckily for her, she's able to strike a balance with her family in regards to her beliefs or lack thereof.
Lots of interesting family dynamics in this one. I really enjoyed it due to its, "This is my experience of religion" feel. She doesn't judge her family or friends for their beliefs (even though she's often judged for hers), and she doesn't make excuses for what she believes. She simply states how she was raised, what it was like, and how it changed her, for better or worse. It is what it is, and Brenda seems quite at peace with her place in this world, no matter what her family thinks. I liked that.
I was expecting the book to be heavier on nature and environmental stuff, and it wasn't (which pleased me. I don't like long passages of description, nor do I enjoy being preached at, on any subject, so yay!). She's simply a nature lover and writes beautifully of that love. The parallels between evangelical Christianity and hardcore environmentalism, though, are a little shocking, but I suppose that could be applied to any fierce beliefs, in that they all use the same pushy fear tactics to bring people over to their side. Definitely something to think about!
Lots of interesting family dynamics in this one. I really enjoyed it due to its, "This is my experience of religion" feel. She doesn't judge her family or friends for their beliefs (even though she's often judged for hers), and she doesn't make excuses for what she believes. She simply states how she was raised, what it was like, and how it changed her, for better or worse. It is what it is, and Brenda seems quite at peace with her place in this world, no matter what her family thinks. I liked that.
I was expecting the book to be heavier on nature and environmental stuff, and it wasn't (which pleased me. I don't like long passages of description, nor do I enjoy being preached at, on any subject, so yay!). She's simply a nature lover and writes beautifully of that love. The parallels between evangelical Christianity and hardcore environmentalism, though, are a little shocking, but I suppose that could be applied to any fierce beliefs, in that they all use the same pushy fear tactics to bring people over to their side. Definitely something to think about!
September 4, 2015
A little known fact about me: I am a recovering Christian. During some of my most impressionable years, I attended an Evangelical Protestant church and whole-heartedly embraced its tenets of born-again Christianity. This included church twice on Sundays, as well as Wednesday nights, singing in the choir, bearing witness to non-believers, and constantly striving to be "right with God." It also meant that I always had to be prepared for the Rapture and the End Times...and plagued as I was with an inferiority complex and an adolescent's free-floating anxiety, this meant that I spent a lot of my time worrying about being Left Behind. Even long after I embraced a more secular lifestyle, I still found myself plagued with questions of What if I'm wrong?> And also guilt for enjoying THIS world so much.
So it was with some with some eagerness that I read this book, in which the author recounts her evangelical upbringing and her gradual rejection of her family's faith. In Peterson's case, she found herself drawn more to the mystical and spiritual beauty of nature, and was confused as to many Christians' indifference to being stewards of it. At the same time, she was discouraged from her curiosity and logical meanderings, and was repulsed by the backwards attitudes of many believers (she came of age during the 1960s.) This came at some price, for she became an alien within her large family, and has spent much of her life attempting to fend off their attempts to bring her back into the fold. Yet oddly, even within her own "group" of liberal environmentalists, she finds similarities of doomsaying and dogma.
Ultimately, this was a highly personal account of one person's journey through life, and ponderings of faith, but I didn't relate to it as much as I wished to.
So it was with some with some eagerness that I read this book, in which the author recounts her evangelical upbringing and her gradual rejection of her family's faith. In Peterson's case, she found herself drawn more to the mystical and spiritual beauty of nature, and was confused as to many Christians' indifference to being stewards of it. At the same time, she was discouraged from her curiosity and logical meanderings, and was repulsed by the backwards attitudes of many believers (she came of age during the 1960s.) This came at some price, for she became an alien within her large family, and has spent much of her life attempting to fend off their attempts to bring her back into the fold. Yet oddly, even within her own "group" of liberal environmentalists, she finds similarities of doomsaying and dogma.
Ultimately, this was a highly personal account of one person's journey through life, and ponderings of faith, but I didn't relate to it as much as I wished to.
May 31, 2010
While I resonate very personally with this author’s Southern Baptist upbringing and passion for the environment, I think this book is a great read for anyone who has experienced a growth and change in religious beliefs throughout their life. While I don’t have any memories of sermons based on the coming “Rapture,” I can relate to Peterson’s feeling of being very uncomfortable among such fervent believers of a black-and-white world. However, also like Peterson, my Southern Baptist childhood shaped the person I am today, and I am deeply appreciative of many aspects of it.
Several parts of this book made me smile with recognition. For example, I have vivid recollections as a young child of my own family’s trip to Glorietta, NM. I also loved that the chapter names were hymn titles I instantly recognized and knew all the lyrics. And I laughed out loud when she commented, “No wonder hellfire and brimstone is so vivid a threat in the Deep South: it might as well be the weather report.”
But I think what touched me most about the book was that as she grew older, Peterson recognized that religious fundamentalists and environmental radicals can all be “end-timers,” and it’s best to be neither extreme. Also she realized that though she may have drastically different religious beliefs from her family, “Nothing else matters so long as we find a way to be kind to one another”—a valuable lesson to live by with family and friends alike. I highly recommend this poignant memoir.
Several parts of this book made me smile with recognition. For example, I have vivid recollections as a young child of my own family’s trip to Glorietta, NM. I also loved that the chapter names were hymn titles I instantly recognized and knew all the lyrics. And I laughed out loud when she commented, “No wonder hellfire and brimstone is so vivid a threat in the Deep South: it might as well be the weather report.”
But I think what touched me most about the book was that as she grew older, Peterson recognized that religious fundamentalists and environmental radicals can all be “end-timers,” and it’s best to be neither extreme. Also she realized that though she may have drastically different religious beliefs from her family, “Nothing else matters so long as we find a way to be kind to one another”—a valuable lesson to live by with family and friends alike. I highly recommend this poignant memoir.
June 26, 2015
I like non-fiction because I love learning things and I like fiction because I enjoy a good story. Memoir often doesn't do enough of either for me and this book is no exception. I wasn't enthralled by this book but parts of it resonated enough to keep me reading. I enjoyed Peterson's internal debate about the rapture and what it means to love God and nature. I identified with her struggle to make a living through her art and envied her ability to live her life to the fullest. Her family is at times exasperating but mostly they're presented in a loving light even as Peterson disagrees with them on almost every important issue. She manages to find herself in her parents and comes across as a grown up and an inspiration.
***I only just now read the comment left on Goodreads by Brenda's sister. I'm sure the sister is correct on several points that I did think sounded implausible (the snake, the puppies and the CIA funeral especially). Though other "lies" are certainly forgivable (i.e. Berkeley, forest ranger, Bible camp) I'd just like to say that I didn't get the impression that her parents were anything but intelligent, lively and interesting people that I'd love to meet. It's always a shock to hear how we're viewed by other people, especially family, but I think defamation is an exaggeration. I didn't at all feel like the author had anything but love and respect for her parents.
***I only just now read the comment left on Goodreads by Brenda's sister. I'm sure the sister is correct on several points that I did think sounded implausible (the snake, the puppies and the CIA funeral especially). Though other "lies" are certainly forgivable (i.e. Berkeley, forest ranger, Bible camp) I'd just like to say that I didn't get the impression that her parents were anything but intelligent, lively and interesting people that I'd love to meet. It's always a shock to hear how we're viewed by other people, especially family, but I think defamation is an exaggeration. I didn't at all feel like the author had anything but love and respect for her parents.
November 11, 2014
Brenda Peterson was the first born in an educated family who who adhered to the beliefs of the Southern Baptist church that by living a good life they would be taken in the Rapture. And they were waiting with hope for the Rapture. All except her. She loved the natural world and could not understand why her family, especially her father, wanted to leave the beautiful world God had created. Her father worked for the U.S. Forest Service and taught her from a young age about nature. As she grew older she was in constant conflict with her family members over her beliefs and later her political positions. She included Eastern religions,Native American as well as Christianity and Judaism in her developing faith journey. When family discussions led to the end times, conflict ensued. The memoir is, in part, how she came to a reconciliation with her family while holding firm to her own beliefs. Peterson writes with enough humor about her family to know that she loves them. Her descriptions of activities in outdoor settings also demonstrate her lasting love for the environment and all that belongs to the natural world. This was a thoughtful presentation on developing, understanding and living truthfully with one’s own faith while being tolerant of others'. It is a memoir about living in a family with strong-minded parents and siblings who are loved yet whose beliefs are rejected. And it is a treatise on loving, living with and protecting the natural world.
February 13, 2015
After I read her book on how to write a memoir (Your Life is a Book), I figured I should read Peterson’s memoir. This memoir turns out to be one of those books that I only begin to understand when I get to the end. So I go back and re-read the opening, and oh, it makes sense now. Aside from that, it’s an engaging story, especially for those who wonder about what happens to us when we die. Peterson was raised in a Southern Baptist family that insisted that the world’s true believers would be taken up to heaven en masse in what they called The Rapture, leaving the sinners and non-believers to suffer in a world full of tribulations. Brenda didn’t quite believe that. The renegade in her family, she was drawn to nature and non-Rapture spiritual paths. Her memoir takes us from her childhood to the present as she finds her way through the world and her own path to rapture. She offers entertaining stories from her church experiences, her early work in New York publishing, her years on a farm in Colorado, and her life on a beach in Seattle. I found it a little slow but well done.
May 13, 2010
Peterson is one of several memoirists who grew up under a strict religion, but what sets this novel apart is the jaxtaposition she creates between her strict Evangelical upbringing and the deep appreciation for nature instilled in her by her forest ranger father. The formula for these types of books seems to be: a fairly chronological overview of the author's life, some funny stories, a couple sad ones, something about the mother feeling unfulfilled, tales of the author's first feelings of discordance regarding the religion, battles with family over said religion, and then a vague, uneasy reconciliation. Peterson ends the memoir with a story about touching whales with her parents. Though still at odds with religion and trying to decide what she believes, Peterson ties her worship of nature and a higher being together nicely.
Readalikes: I'm Perfect, You're Doomed by Kyria Abrahams; Jesus Land by Julia Sheeres
Readalikes: I'm Perfect, You're Doomed by Kyria Abrahams; Jesus Land by Julia Sheeres
May 21, 2010
I liked this book because it wasn't a typical memoir about a tragic childhood. It is a sweet story about her and her family who all love each other but just have different views on religion and politics. Being brought up southern baptist she never felt comfortable in the religion she was told to believe but did anyway so as to not "rock the boat". (hmm...that hits close to home) As she became an adult she struggled with having her own beliefs without offending her family who all thought she was doomed. I love that even though she went through this personal spiritual shift she was able to maintain a loving relationship with her family. She is also living in Seattle and talks a lot about areas and animals familiar to me, so I enjoyed that as well. I think this book made me want to check out her other books as well.
July 14, 2010
I flew through this book. I loved the elegant prose and the scenes that Peterson describes. The description of homemade ice cream was mouth-watering. And I particularly liked the moments in nature and the Colorado River trip.
I didn't feel like I ended with any real answers about rapture views other than that we're all people and we all have different ideas about rapture.
As to the review by her sister posted on goodreads: It really doesn't matter to me if there are some inaccuracies. I assume most memoirs I read are from the author's viewpoint and some parts may be exaggerated to make for a better read. A book that tried to be 100% factual and tried not to step on anyone's toes would most likely be bland and not be able to make any important points.
I didn't feel like I ended with any real answers about rapture views other than that we're all people and we all have different ideas about rapture.
As to the review by her sister posted on goodreads: It really doesn't matter to me if there are some inaccuracies. I assume most memoirs I read are from the author's viewpoint and some parts may be exaggerated to make for a better read. A book that tried to be 100% factual and tried not to step on anyone's toes would most likely be bland and not be able to make any important points.
March 26, 2010
I completely identify with the author growing up confused around Southern Evangelicals. I, too, was more at peace on Sunday morning at the wildlife refuge than in church. The first steps I took toward thoroughly abandoning my faith came when someone close to me equated faith with playing percentages. I was told that it was better to believe "just in case," and if I turned out to be wrong, no harm, no foul. That's no way to lead a life, and I took up with the Earth instead. After all, as someone from the book says, I'm made of the "same stuff."
May 18, 2010
I've read Seattle nature writer Brenda Peterson's work for years and had no idea she had such a religious background to overcome.
Her book taught me about Southern Baptist zeal I knew nothing about. Her balancing act of trying to be her own person while respecting her family whose values were so far removed from her own makes for an interesting read. It is a balancing act that is complex but candidly told.
Brenda is an advocate for nature and a writer you should read if you haven't. I am particularly fond of her book Living by Water.
Her book taught me about Southern Baptist zeal I knew nothing about. Her balancing act of trying to be her own person while respecting her family whose values were so far removed from her own makes for an interesting read. It is a balancing act that is complex but candidly told.
Brenda is an advocate for nature and a writer you should read if you haven't. I am particularly fond of her book Living by Water.
May 27, 2012
Peterson provides a very interesting, and quite humorous at times, rendition of her journey into an appreciation of the environment that is both spiritual and personal, but basically rejects the religious biases of her family and the organizations that they represent and defend so fiercely. She presents the journey in a way that assures the reader that there has been no personal rift between her and her family--only a philosophical difference as it pertains to deeply-held beliefs and conclusions.
March 11, 2013
Brenda Peterson is a great writer, especially of nature. What compelled me to read this book was a radio interview with her where she compared the inflexible dogma of religious fundamentalists and diehard environmentalists: both see no possibility outside Armageddon. Her book has a light and loving touch as she probes her own family background,her biography and where she developed a love of nature, and the possibilities born within a new generation of earth- based , taoistic evangelicals. Beautiful and funny, too!
Read
November 13, 2016This is another talented woman writer finds faith memoir. Specifically, the narrator accepts the theological and political differences between herself and her devout Southern Baptist family. By the end, she comes to terms with her extended family that she dearly loves. Both sides have changed.
She uncomfortably draws unexpected strong parallels between fundamentalist Southern Baptists and ardent environmentalists.
A beautiful section about visiting a haorbor where whales and their babies welcome interactions with humans made me want to go participate!
She uncomfortably draws unexpected strong parallels between fundamentalist Southern Baptists and ardent environmentalists.
A beautiful section about visiting a haorbor where whales and their babies welcome interactions with humans made me want to go participate!
April 11, 2010
After reading a review of this book I was curious to read it myself. I thought it would be more focused on religion but was pleasantly surprised that it was a biography of an interesting nature writer. She uses the compare/ contrast of her "born-again" southern Baptist family with her embrace of the natural world. Given all the focus on environmental issues and the doom and gloom of global warming, war and the end of time as we know it, this book was essentially positive and upbeat.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 62 reviews