Anyone browsing the title of this book is likely to be misinformed and, equally likely, as a result, to pass it over. That’s the problem with morality and sexuality today, particularly when they appear in the same title with “Christians.” Unless you have been living under a rock, it’s a sure bet you aren’t neutral on the topic.
But that’s precisely why you should read this book.
This is a book of history written by a very capable and articulate historian. It is not a partisan manifesto. Even after reading the book I would be hard-pressed to define the author’s actual politics with any specificity. There is an occasional whiff here and there, particularly in the epilogue, but that is to be expected of any book written by an actual person. The author is, on balance, admirably successful in maintaining the political objectivity of the professional historian. (Although she would likely point out that those who hold the most extreme views on both sides of these issues are unlikely to agree with that assessment.)
The goal of an historian is to both present the facts and figures and to put them in context so that we might ultimately rise above them in the interest of true understanding. And while you will surely find some of the characters in this drama to be offensive and off-putting, I think it would be difficult to really contribute to the public dialogue today without an understanding of who they were and the influence they had in their time. Self-awareness, after all, is the necessary first step toward any attempt to change the world.
What is most amazing about this book and the topics it covers, from birth control to abortion and same sex marriage, is how much energy and effort has gone into our very public debates, to put it mildly, about sex over such a relatively short span of human history. To think that less than a century ago we were actively debating whether or not heterosexual marital sex for purposes other than procreation was moral or not, is really quite mind boggling when you think about it.
And that, it appears, is precisely why Griffith is interested in the topic. What she documents in incredible detail, without being dry, is a division among both Christians and Americans at large, which is beyond profoundly deep. It is a division that is almost inexplicable in any rational scientific or theological terms. While I can’t imagine any historian giving it a better effort, I’m not convinced Griffith herself believes that she has been entirely successful, in the end, in unraveling the full breadth and depth of the forces behind the facts. The history is just that bizarre.
I honestly can’t imagine an historian taking on a more challenging range of topics. And she is obviously astute enough to know that the target audience for a balanced, objective recounting of this history may ultimately prove to be small in numbers. She took on what might well prove to be a thankless job, nonetheless, both because I think she is just naturally fascinated with the subject matter and because it is a page of history that someone really has to write.
And that it is exactly why it is not a thankless read. Far from it. I found the book to be well worth my time and effort. It didn’t change my politics, but as a white, heterosexual, sexagenarian, non-Christian male, I learned a lot, particularly about events that took place within my own lifetime and that I should have been paying more attention to at the time.
The writing is very accessible and easy to get through, but it is not a quick read. There is an awful lot of material here. And while the prose flows smoothly, there is enough attention paid to references and authentication to satisfy, I suspect, the most discerning academic. It does not, moreover, limit itself to the female perspective. This is a social, political, and religious history that all of us, whatever our gender, sexual identity, or religious affiliation, played a role in, as Griffith so aptly points out.
I normally reserve a five star rating for books that are truly transformative for me. I’m not sure that any history quite rises to that level for me, but the topic surely does. As a member of society and the father of two daughters I can’t think of a more relevant or important topic at the moment.
My only disappointment in the book is that in the epilogue, where she discusses the 2016 election, she seems to lose a little of what had been up until that point an ardent and irrepressible optimism that things always seem to work out in the end. She was hardly alone, however, in being knocked back on her heels by the election, if indeed she was, but she seems to have ultimately held her grip. She closes with, “Maybe we will get there one day […reckoning, engaging, and willfully empathizing with others in our common humanity, so as to rouse a fractured nation to build a bearable peace.], but not without first committing to a full and thorough reckoning of precisely how and why our divisions got so deep.”
And in that spirit, I dearly hope that you if you have taken the time to read this review, you will take the time to read this very important and engaging book.
And, no, I don’t know the author and have never encountered any of her prior work. I will, however, look for her in the future.