A moving and intense tale of the author’s experiences in an apocalyptic cult.
“I grew up on a mountain, preparing for the Apocalypse,” writes Dowd at the beginning of this enthralling narrative, which describes her upbringing in the 1970s and ’80s in the Field, a religious cult founded by her grandfather in 1931. She spent her childhood preparing for the imminent end of days on “a sixteen-acre undeveloped camp sitting on the San Andreas Fault.” As a young girl, she underwent extreme military training, tests of her pain tolerance, and months of abandonment by her parents, who were frequently on a national tour known as “the Trip.” Forbidden to speak to “Outsiders,” unless she was raising money for the Field, Dowd turned to the landscape for solace and survival, drawing on her substantial knowledge of edible flora. “Violence is everywhere, and no one around here seems to care, least of all the God of my fathers,” she writes, delineating years of abuse, forced hunger, and neglect. Taught that holding hands out of wedlock is grounds for expulsion, and even affection between mother and child is sinful, she grew up without any outward indication of love. Certain that her family would readily sacrifice her if asked, she writes, “as descendants by blood, I think the only real distinction my cousins and I have from other leaders’ kids is knowing Grandpa would kill us if God asks him to.” Heartbreaking and difficult to put down, this book lyrically chronicles an impressive rise out of illness, poverty, and indoctrination. As she struggled with growing into a woman in an unsafe and patriarchal environment, Dowd realized she needed to escape. However, she notes, “freeing oneself is the first step; claiming ownership of that freed self has been a lifelong journey.” Leaving the cult meant losing her family and understanding of the world, with only her ecological knowledge and mental toughness to carry her forward.
A harrowing, engrossing story of survival amid painful circumstances.