Girl at the End of the
World by Elizabeth Esther
I received this book for free to review through the Blogging
for Books program.
Last night, I read the book Girl at the End of the World by Elizabeth Esther in its entirety.
The only bad thing I have to say about this book is the day on which I chose to
read it. It was the night before a busy day and I meant only to read a chapter
or two, but I became so immersed in her story that I realized I was only a few
chapters from the end and it was 2am. I literally could not put it down.
I think that my reaction to this book, from a spiritual
perspective, is at first a little odd. Reading EE’s (as she calls herself on
her blog) words, it was as if I related to some of the brainwashing experience—
but of course, I didn’t actually grow up in a cult and I don’t consider myself
brainwashed (every time someone told her that asking questions is a sin, I
wanted to call my youth minister and thank him for encouraging questions—faith
is so much more real when its your own and not imposed). It’s like she is able
to capture so much in her writing that she makes the experience tangible, makes
it real. Yet, looking back at the reading experience, I feel like there were
many experiences she had that remind me of problems in my own faith tradition,
albeit significantly worse. The Assembly seems to me like an extreme version of
the already extreme right wing of the Church (the ones who considered
themselves more Catholic than the pope when Benedict
XVI was still on the throne—many of
whom have found their groups being censored by Rome). I find the parallels
slightly terrifying, but that’s for another blog.
EE not only grew up in The Assembly, a homegrown,
fundamentalist Christian group; the founder of the group, George Geftakys, is
her grandfather, giving her at a unique perspective and insight into The
Assembly from an early time until its demise. A small Christian sect that
easily fits into the “cult” category, The Assembly used brain-washing and mind
control tactics (essentially making all members terrified to disagree with
anyone in the hierarchy) in addition to abusive corporal punishment on their
children in the same line as the Pearls’ (in the book, EE even indicates that
she thinks her grandfather’s church was worse
than what the Pearls were known for). The Assembly was, along with many similar
cults, guilty of misinterpreting scripture to make women submissive in the
extreme, blaming every sin of the man on the weakness of the woman.
The interesting thing about memoirs of young people escaping
from cults is that you already know the end when you pick it up: they get out.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t be writing the story to begin with. With Elizabeth
Esther, it’s a little different. Even though I certainly baulked at the things
that she was taught in The Assembly, you can tell from her storytelling how
intensely she believed the flawed theology that her parents and grandparents
passed on to her, how much it hurt her to leave the community that she had been
with since birth. You cry with her and agonize over the decision that she must
eventually make: to leave The Assembly. It is easy to understand, and empathize
with, her reasons for doing so. Yet, it is heartbreaking.
Elizabeth Esther is a phenomenal writer, especially given
her past. The opportunity to walk with her on her journey is an opportunity to
share sacred moments in her life. Her courage in writing this book and doing
the work she does with survivors shines through in her willingness to share
intimate and personal details about her life: spiritual, family, everything. She
holds little back and it makes the story that much more touching.
If you want to read this book, you can check out the first
chapter here. You
can find more information on the publisher’s website and on Elizabeth Esther’s page.
I give Girl at the End
of the World a 5/5—a rare honor, but deserved.
Note: This book, while wonderful and touching, is an
emotional roller coaster. At some points, I sobbed reading it. At other points,
my hand was clenched into a fist. I don’t recommend reading this book when
you’re already feeling emotionally drained or depressed. It’s a great book, but
the same writing that makes it so great also allows you to experience some small
piece of the agony with the author, making it dangerous if you’re in an already
emotionally unhealthy state.