Christine Talbot, author of Sonia Johnson: A Mormon Feminist, answers questions on her new book.

Q: Why did you decide to write this book? 

When Matthew Harris and Joseph Spencer first approached me to write a book for the series Introductions to Mormon thought, they asked me to write about the second LDS church prophet, Brigham Young. I suppose this was because I had published a book in 2013 that focused on the national controversy over plural marriage that occurred while Young and his successors John Taylor and Wilford Woodruff, led the church. (Brigham Young led from after the death of the founding Prophet Joseph Smith in 1844 to 1877, Taylor 1877-1887, and Woodruff 1887-1898.) While Young certainly merits inclusion in the series, I had tired of the period and wanted to move on to something new. I told the editors this and, kindly, they asked who I wanted to write about. I proposed a few names but was most enthusiastic about Sonia Johnson. As a faculty member who teaches feminist and queer theories, I had become increasingly engaged with the history and ideas of so-called “second-wave feminism.” As a historian of Mormons interested in gender and feminism, I have always been fascinated by how LDS feminists navigate the difficult territory between their feminism and their faith. Bringing those interests to bear on Mormon history felt like a perfect fit. For me, the larger significance of this story is that Sonia served as a flashpoint for Mormonism’s confrontation with feminism and the church’s relationship to twentieth- and twenty-first-century feminism has been fraught ever since.  This book has given me an opportunity to look at these themes through Sonia’s life and experiences. 

Q: What is the most interesting discovery you made while researching and writing your book?  

One of the most interesting things about this project has been the degree to which the basic facts and narrative of Sonia’s confrontation with the church are contested, complex, and convoluted, and the complexity and depth of the issues at stake in disagreements about details that at first glance seem incredibly mundane. There are many competing (“alternative”?) facts, rumors, interpretations, and innuendos. I’ve never been involved in a project with these kinds of inconsistencies, and some of them are fraught with meaning the stakes can be high.  

Q: What myths do you hope your book will dispel or what do you hope your book will help readers unlearn? 

This might sound like a strange answer to this question, but I hope this book will help readers become less afraid of Sonia and her work on behalf of the ERA. As I’ve conducted and presented this research, I’ve seen this anxiety coming from several places. For believing church scholars, Sonia’s excommunication and similar excommunications of feminists that followed may make the study of Sonia’s life and work feel like perilous territory. As I say in the book, some of what Sonia did was deeply threatening to entrenched LDS theological commitments to priesthood, gender, and family.  Some believers have felt threatened enough by my work that they have asked me never to speak of it. Believing feminists also sometimes find engagement with Sonia anxiety producing because her experience serves as a cautionary tale of the risks of Mormon feminism. Some see it as a model of how not to make change in the church.  For these readers, I hope the book provides some clarity about why Sonia did what she did, even if readers would not have done the same. Among more traditional believers, Sonia is often portrayed as a kind of diabolical and dangerous influence out to destroy the church and the family and they fear her influence, sometimes so much that they have refused to talk with me about my work. I hope the book provides a measured enough approach to Sonia’s life and work that it begins to dispel some of this fear. Sonia began her journey as a believer doing her best to make sense out of a burgeoning feminist consciousness in a patriarchal context.  Like most of us, she made mistakes, sometimes misspoke, and sometimes behaved badly. Her excommunication was tragic and unfortunate, and I think Leonard Arrington was right that “the church cannot gain from this entire incident” once the process began. But I also see that at least from the church’s perspective, Sonia’s critiques did deeply and publicly challenge LDS theology. Though I wrote it from a feminist perspective, I hope the book helps these readers see that she wasn’t the bogeyman (bogeywoman?) she has often been made out to be. 

Q: Which part of the publishing process did you find the most interesting? 

Every author I know has a moment or two when their book becomes “real” to them, when the long process of writing it comes to fruition. For me, it’s when the cover art appears, so I’m always very interested in that process. I realize there are probably some behind-the-scenes elements I don’t know as much about (getting copyright permissions for photographs for example) but it’s interesting to think about how to represent visually an entire book, and in this case a whole life, in a single image. There are lots of photographs of Sonia and I find it fascinating to consider how decisions are made about which to use. 

Q: What is your advice to scholars/authors who want to take on a similar project? 

In the context of this book, I could take several approaches to this question. I’ll take the one I think is most important, which is about doing controversial work that may have professional, religious, and personal implications. As a scholar of the Mormon movement informed by feminist and gender studies, I’ve often been inspired by a section of Adrienne Rich’s poem, “Diving into the Wreck.” She writes: 

I came to explore the wreck. 

The words are purposes. 

The words are maps. 

I came to see the damage that was done 

and the treasures that prevail.

There are treasures in LDS history and there is also damage done. The words its leaders and members have spoken map their meanings and clue us into their purposes. For me, studying Sonia Johnson, and other controversial topics in LDS history, has always required an openness to both treasure and damage, to meanings and purposes I and others may not always find comfortable. I see my work as both exposing and witnessing both the treasures found and the damage done in the Sonia Johnson story and I have had to consider implications of what I’ve found for my personal relationships, religious inclinations, and professional life. While I don’t have any specific advice to potential scholars about how to consider these questions or what conclusions to draw, I do recommend that scholars interested in controversial topics in Mormon history consider them. The treasures can be beautiful, but the damage witnessed can be painful. Gender history and Mormon history alike needs scholars willing to take on these challenges. 

Q: What do you like to read/watch/or listen to for fun? 

I love this question because it often dovetails with the feminist politics of pleasure: is it okay for feminists to take pleasure in reading, watching, or listening to books, shows, music, or media that is un- or anti-feminist. So while my tastes are very eclectic, I’ll take this question, at least in part, as an opportunity to confess my sins against both Mormonism and feminism.  Some of what I watch and listen to is right in line: I enjoy virtuous family media as much as any church member. I’m a huge fan of musicals and The Sound of Music is one of my favorite films. I enjoy girls with guitars and feminist lyrics as much as any feminist. Some of my favorite musical artists are Indigo Girls, Tracy Chapman (whose recent renaissance I’ve thoroughly enjoyed), and Joan Baez. However, I’m also partial to media that would offend both Mormons and feminists. I love Eminem (especially his early work) and I am a huge fan of the South Park series—I own every season on DVD. I relish making no attempt whatsoever to reconcile these tastes with any religious, spiritual, or feminist commitments I may have.

---