Louise Omer is a Pentecostal preacher and faithful wife. But when her marriage crumbles, so do her beliefs.
Haunted by questions about what it means to be female in a religion that worships a male God, she leaves behind her church and home to go on a pilgrimage to discover whether there is a place in modern religion for holy women.
As she reflects on her own past and changing beliefs, Louise visits Mexican basilicas, Swedish cathedrals, Bulgarian mountains, and Moroccan mosques, and meets women who have asked similar questions.
Holy Woman combines travel writing, feminist theology, and confessional memoir to interrogate modern religion, and gives a raw and personal exploration of spiritual life under patriarchy.
I'm finding this a very hard book to review. I bought it from a bookseller's review - and because the author was based in the city in which I live. I am currently exploring notions of goddess in the history of embroidery and saw potential connection and interest.
It is a powerful exploration of a woman's search for herself, and for the divine. The relationship of holy and wholly hangs over the narrative. The writing is engaging, direct and personal. Omer pulls us along her journey, inviting us into her self-searching and analysis - which is often stark and blunt.
What is not entirely clear is why she chooses journey she does - or perhaps, more pertinent, why she doesn't choose other places to visit. The early journeys seem natural, but later visits less so. The exploration of the female in faiths outside Christianity carried less weight - perhaps reflecting my own background knowledge.
It may be because of what the book is not that I felt a little disappointed. I appreciate the list of references at the end of the book, and have already ordered some that will, I think, help in my own goddess quest. I wanted more history, more exploration of how various cultures have evolved their current expressions of holiness. Omer's pilgrimage could not deliver that. What it did deliver is a powerful account of one woman's contemporary pilgrimage towards, in her own terms, wholeness - and that's helpful to all of us.
Omer is having an identity crisis and so is her book. One part memoir detailing life and marriage inside the Pentecostal church, one part holy pilgrimage, one part feminist reckoning, Holy Woman really jumps around.
A lot of Omer’s questions were tricky for me to connect with, this is probably a subjective thing. I found it hard to be too invested in what god’s gender expression may or may not be when the whole institution of Hillsong is based on patriarchy and coercive control (Omer does explore this, which is the aspect of the book I appreciated most), and the feminist issues around menstruation, vulva gazing, can one be a feminist and enjoy BDSM? etc. felt extremely cis centric and tired to me.
Omer does acknowledge her privileges (of which there are many) at times but never really unpacks this or engages meaningfully in how she has contributed to upholding these systems of power, particularly in her missionary work, or how she is going to relinquish this power. It’s this brand of (usually white) feminism that makes me recoil from the label. Bafflingly, Omer travels around, situates herself in global feminist movements, gets time with many notable women and asks them questions she could have googled. Then gets her parents to send her more cash to travel somewhere else. Repeat.
The book didn’t work for me on subjective and editorial levels but I’m sure others will get more out of it.
This wasn't really the book I had hoped it would be: the past flashbacks to life in Adelaide's left-leaning Pentecostalist community churches were interesting, as they showed how a young feminist might get drawn in to a culture which ultimately denied her power, but I found the `pilgrimage' sections tedious, written with a kind wide-eyed naivety I suspected was more journalist-trained-artifice than real ignorance. Omar's shock discoveries about the goddess movements felt like things basic research (even pre- or early-internet days) would have shown her. The book felt stuck halfway between coming-of-age memoir and serious exploration of religion and gender, and ultimately didn't really succeed at the former and definitely not at the latter. It always feels a bit mean to criticise memoir - I mean, this is someone's life (I've seen some shocking reviews of memoirs complaining that someone's trauma is "boring" for example). The sparks of personal history were the sparkaliest bits for me, but ultimately this just wasn't my book.
The issue with this book, I think, is that its coherence totally depends on the reader already sharing Omer’s view that Abrahamic religion is inherently misogynistic and that participating in it actively furthers the oppression of women. If you read it in an undecided frame of mind, as I did, the argument just doesn’t add up. I think I was supposed to find something sinister about the Pastor - at least, Omer makes her negative feelings about him very clear - but here’s what she actually tells us about him: he runs a thriving youth group where teens can “party” sober, encourages (but doesn’t seem to coerce) their church membership, and later founds a church of his own devoted to refugee advocacy and LGBT inclusion. Apparently, once in charge, he uses his power to silence preachers who disagree with him - the two examples Omer gives are of a man preaching violent hellfire-and-brimstone stuff and a woman preaching homophobia. Omer frames this as repressive; I think it sounds responsible. She doesn’t tell a single story about fundamentalism, spiritual abuse, shunning, or any of what I’d consider the genuine evils at large in the Christian community.
I really wanted to enjoy the chapters exploring female-centric religious traditions around the world, but I felt that they got crowded out by reflections on Omer’s divorce and her dislike of Christianity. The engagement with other faiths was at a very shallow level - again, if you weren’t already on board with Omer’s underlying beliefs, there wasn’t really anything to challenge or persuade you.
i picked this up on a whim at the bookshop as it was sitting on their staff recommendations shelf. i don't know what i was expecting but it certainly wasn't what i just read. like another reviewer said, its hard to criticise when this is someone's actual life. other than the privilege that was oozing off of the pages, one of my biggest (and pettiest) gripes was that i just could not get over the fact that most of this book is completely unnecessary scene setting descriptions. i actually had to skip past it because it ultimately served no purpose. most importantly, i will truly be very glad to never have to read the term "vulva-gaze" again (if i can help it...).
Like many deconversion stories, this one is shallow. It creates a false narrative about God and then throws it away as untrue.
The author recognises some of her issues, but doesn't really address them. She acknowledges that she carries her image of God onto her husband, but fails to see that she also projects her image of her husband onto God. Her search to find the feminine in the Divine ignores Scripture, where it can be seen and looks for it in human constructions, myths and statues and rituals, where, unsurprisingly, it is not.
She considers the attempts to reform religions from the inside, whether Christianity, Judaism or Islam as weak and ineffectual, and those actions within her own church context as performative, and meaningless.
In the end, she identifies perhaps accidentally, that the subjugation of self and desire for approval of others is within her and she carries that even into her most transgressive and irreligious actions. But she never acknowledges her own responsibility or attempts to understand the source of her destructive impulses, instead leaving them vaguely as the responsibility of the patriarchy or God as male.
This book articulated so many of my thoughts and feelings as a woman in the process of deconstructing a Christian faith and upbringing. This book brought me to tears and genuinely changed my life! A must read
A pilgrim story that originates in the realisation that women and in particular this author have been controlled by a male dominated system for the longest of times. The author profiles being confined, controlled and undervalued in her marriage with the overlap written large growing up in a patriarchal pentecostal church system. The author travels widely to expose and discover different perspectives on the question of gender roles in organised religion while exposing her own understandings and awakenings. Intimate, raw, poetic and honest writing. The author looks at her life before, during and after her pilgrimage. Haphazard, naive and living on her wits, I loved being a fly on the wall to visit places and people I knew nothing about. Fortunately there is a reference guide of the reading list to the pilgrimage sites: Ireland, Mexico, Sweden, Bulgaria, Turkey, Scotland, Ireland again, Italy, Germany, Morocco, the Czech Republic. For the many women and men who never seek to question the established gender roles in biblical stories and how these were written and collected this will be confronting. We need more people like Louise Omer seeking, searching and asking questions on the acceptance of power structures in the church. I for one will be seeking out further writing by this author.
This was at times profound and humbling but felt disjointed for a lot of the storytelling.
I really enjoyed the 'before' passages but Omer's pilgrimage and enlightened moments felt unbelievable at times. For example, she hadn't seen her parents for 7 months but once they arrived she opened a book after sitting down to lunch with them? I'm sure this is a literary consequence of fitting a long journey into half of a short book but it left her messages feeling forced. I wished she had spent less time describing her country-hopping and more on her opinions on feminist literature as these had the beginnings of interesting threads but often got cut off as she jumped from city to city.
Overall an interesting surface skim into feminist theology but didn't really feel like a heartfelt journey until the very end.
This was divine and all of my feelings about it feel very personal. I learnt so many interesting things and loved Omer's style of writing. But I also really, really liked the way she presents her own reticence and (at times) lack of knowledge in a way that enriches the story, rather than makes you doubt her. I hope our libraries are blessed enough to get more intriguing Australian-made non-fiction like this.
I think it's a thought provoking and intense book and quite hard to review as it deals with very private spheres like spirituality and seeking the divine. I appreciated the style of writing and there's a lot of interesting reflections even if the Christian part seems to be the most relevant Recommended. Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine
Easy and engaging read. Really interesting topic and a topic lived and breathed by the author. I was a little confused by her Morocco experiences which didn't sit well with her overall ethos. But I guess that was 'part-of-her-journey'.
Great insight and fascinating stories. It's a bit Merlin Stone's 'When God Was A Woman' meets Elizabeth Gilbert's 'War, Peat, Love'. Highly recommend to anyone interested in religions or spirituality and the impacts of patriarchy and matriarchy in their foundations.
Overall I enjoyed this book! Hearing the insides of someone's experience of deconstruction and battling deep rooted shame, guilt and obedience. For me, I didn't enjoy the explicit chapters but I appreciate the Omer's vulnerability.
I originally found the idea of a pilgrimage searching for the feminine divine interesting, but as the book went on I enjoyed it less and less. Overall this book was just not my cup of tea. However, I will give the author props for being VERY vulnerable in sharing her story.
Obviously not my regular reading material, but some important words that will hopefully help others realise their indoctrination into a system of control and escape religion