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“Lovely Picture Books for Women”: Daughters in My Kingdom

By: Ardis E. Parshall - September 30, 2011

Do you remember Yentl, the 1983 movie with Barbra Streisand as the Eastern European Jewish girl of the early 20th century, who so craves the bookish education that is forbidden to her that she cuts her hair and masquerades as a boy in order to register in a distant yeshiva? While she is still at home in her shtetl, keeping house for her rabbi father, she crosses through a marketplace just as a bookseller cries his wares: “Holy texts for men … Story books for women! Sacred books for men, lovely picture books for women!”

I’ve thought of that scene so many times in the past few weeks as I’ve tried to come to grips with the new Relief Society history, Daughters in My Kingdom. It is a lovely book, indeed, and it is indeed filled with pictures. Not only are there photographs and paintings on virtually every page, there are pull quotes, scrolled embellishments over some pictures (all of which are edged in gold), curlicues around page numbers, and an ornamental “This Book Belongs to …” bookplate on the flyleaf. The edges of all pages are decorated with faint floral or geometric prints, which extend under the pull quotes and in many cases extend into the text columns so that text is printed on colored, patterned backgrounds.

I think that there is some text in the book, too – there’s a pattern of black shapes in rows that serves to frame and separate the pictures – but I keep being distracted by the shiny pictures and haven’t yet been able to read the text.

It is a lovely, lovely picture book.

This is perhaps my sixth attempt to review Daughters in My Kingdom. Earlier attempts have failed in part because I have truthfully not yet been able to read the text.  I have in fact been so continuously distracted by the page design and illustrations that I can’t concentrate on the text. So in this attempt I’m going to surrender and review only the illustrations. Then I’ll download Daughters in My Kingdom from the website, strip out all images and formatting down to the bare bones text, and see if I can’t finally concentrate on the text itself.

This review is limited to the images in Daughters in My Kingdom – this lovely, lovely picture book for women.

There are basically three kinds of illustrations in this book, not counting the curlicues and page textures and other incidental embellishments.

First and most effective are the illustrations that convey real historical content. Those I enjoy most are, perhaps not surprisingly, those like this one from p. 52 which show women engaged in iconic Mormon women’s activities (here, picking silkworm cocoons during the years of Mormon sericulture).

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More general ones, like this one from p. 72 showing California women engaged in canning food are also effective – they feel genuine, tied to a specific time and place, documenting real Mormon women engaged in real Relief Society activities.

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Even a few of the more generic illustrations, like this one from p. 100 with the caption “Charity is felt in the invitation ‘Come–sit by us’,” feels authentic – although I don’t know where or when it was taken, or what the occasion or activity was, the spontaneous emotions and the sheer number of women with their individual styles of clothing and grooming seems to be a real photograph of a real moment in time, unstaged.

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The book contains many images of paintings, too, of events that could not have been photographed (events from the scriptures, or the founding of Relief Society in 1842 or its early years in the Salt Lake Valley). Although these images are less immediate than a photographic witness, they do still convey information and a sense of time and place.

A second class of illustration is, in my opinion, much less successful and more distracting, and in terms of the sheer number they almost become an annoyance. These are photographs which convey no sense of time or space but are merely generic images – stock images, if you will, that could be used to illustrate any number of concepts, and which go no deeper emotionally nor informationally than the surface. This one from p. 121, for example:

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It illustrates visiting teaching in this book; in other Church material it might illustrate motherhood, or a support group for student wives. It is generic enough to be used in other contexts to advertise jeans, or fabric softener, or shampoo, or stain-resistant carpeting. It feels artificial and posed, staged for the camera, as does this photograph from p. 117:

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or this one with obvious mugging directly to the camera, from p. 99

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For me, these images, because there are so very many of them conveying so little information, distract from the message and detract from the book as a history, in my opinion.

On the other hand, they do serve at least one valid and worthwhile purpose: Because the pictures are deliberately staged for propaganda purposes (using “propaganda” in its purest form and without pejorative intent), care has been taken to use models from almost every imaginable racial and cultural background and age. Every woman in the Church ought to find some picture among this group that depicts someone more or less like her physically – being inclusive, reassuring a woman that she is not alone in the Church no matter how alone she may be as a Church member in her family or community, showing that she, too, is a daughter of God and has a place in Relief Society, is definitely a worthwhile motive for a book like this one.

The third general class of illustrations, however, contributes neither to history nor to inclusiveness, but serves merely as cotton candy for the eye. These illustrations are images of paintings or other creative works, are brightly colored, and are highly romanticized, idealized Valentines more reminiscent of saccharine Wasatch Front scrapbooking than carriers of history or doctrine.

For examples, see p. 49,

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p. 173,

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and p. 150:

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These images seem to have been inserted for no reason but the desire of a page designer to break up a block of text. More than any others they bring to mind the contrast between “Holy books for men” and “Lovely picture books for women.” I find myself staring at them, wondering what the no nonsense women I knew as a missionary in France, or the cultured women of my mother’s generation, would make of them.

There. Maybe I’ve got it out of my system. I’d really like to read this book through and get a clearer sense of what must be more important than appearances. Having disposed of the distracting glitter, maybe I can get now to the intended message.

Caution: Rant Ahead.

Please do not respond to this by telling me, “Now, sister, you need to remember that this book is intended for women all over the world, in many different circumstances.” I. Know. That. I have acknowledged that fact before, and am on record as saying that if this history can’t meet all the needs of all the women in the Church, it is far more important that it meet the needs of other women who do not have my opportunities for learning about the history of Relief Society through other channels.

But frankly, I am sick to death of being told with every varying degree of condescension that this book is aimed toward other women, or that I ought not to be so haughty and that what is good enough for those other women should be good enough for me. That is no more relevant to my needs than telling me to remember that they speak English in Australia. I am not marginally literate; I am not a new convert; I don’t live in some remote corner of the world where I haven’t seen Relief Society fully functioning; I don’t suffer from non-awareness of my status as a daughter of God; I’m not a novice to women’s history in the Church. I am, however, a woman in this Church, a member of Relief Society, who is expected to open the gift, as Sister Beck puts it, and I should be free to evaluate that gift in terms of its utility to me. Just as Sister Beck isn’t obligated to squeeze herself into the child’s apron of her video, but is free to pass the gift to someone more appropriate (her granddaughters), I am not obligated to squeeze my needs and taste into the limits of a book whose format is intended for some other woman. I’ll pass that part of the gift along to those who can use it without pretending that it fits me.

Just don’t you dare tell me that I need to be that other woman in order to be genuinely and sincerely a woman in the kingdom. Just don’t.

End of rant.



47 Comments »

  1. You could join me in requesting a text-only file for download at LDS.org. I have my own reasons for wanting one, but I think it would be very nice for many reasons. (I also find that even the regular pdf file makes it easier for me to ignore the photos than if I were reading it in book form.)

    Of course, I haven’t had much luck with the feedback section on the site, but I can always hope this time will be different.

    Comment by Amira — September 30, 2011 @ 7:02 am

  2. Ardis, thanks so much for sharing your opinion as you make this journey. A unique point of view, and bringing out stuff that I had not seen before.

    And as someone trained in communication research, a very solid analysis. You should publish this.

    FWIW, I thought p. 49 and 150 were to remind us that women were there, too, at those points in history when only the men tend to be mentioned in the official record.

    Comment by Naismith — September 30, 2011 @ 7:08 am

  3. Don’t be any other woman, Ardis. We like you as you are.

    I haven’t seen the book. My wife is Nursery Leader so it hasn’t filtered down to outer darkness yet. But my cousin advises on Facebook that it includes the painting by St. George artist, Julie Rogers, in which my late grandmother was a model for the sweet, elderly lady (p. 114).

    Julie Rogers also did the new mural in the Santa Clara City Hall of the Swiss Pioneers, etc. Some of my other relatives are models in that one but I’m not supposed to say that (now I’m in trouble).

    http://travelsketchbook.blogspot.com/2009/05/santa-clara-historic-mural-dedicated.html

    Comment by Grant — September 30, 2011 @ 7:12 am

  4. I agree with your review of the pictures. I generally despise stock photos (I liked the “jeans or fabric softener” comment). I got the book a few weeks ago and was struck by how many pictures and how much ornamentation it contained. It was the wrong size (wasn’t it a strange size and shape?) for a serious book, but it was a quite lovely picture book, with rounded corners and gilded pages and everything. I’m torn. On one hand, maybe the loveliness will inspire some women to read the book who are otherwise turned off by dry text. On the other, perhaps it will advance a notion that women need soft-lit gilded picture books because they can’t handle meaty doctrine or history unadorned.

    In any case, I look forward to your review of the text.

    Comment by Amy — September 30, 2011 @ 7:34 am

  5. Ardis: I LOVE your rants!!! Seriously! And when I saw your Rant Warning I was jumping for joy. :-)

    Cotton Candy Pictures: I can handle the p. 49. P. 173 is pushing the limits. And p. 150 is over the top. IMHO

    I haven’t read this RS history; only Ardis’ reviews. I will say this, and I hope no one takes offense, but so much of the Church’s publications are written at the lowest common denominator. I really have a hard time with the book Our Heritage. I cringe when people bring it up in class as though it’s a legitimate history of the Church. I want a Church history book to be more substantive and less fluff. (Which is why I like Keepa.) Anyway, my little rant.

    Comment by Steve C. — September 30, 2011 @ 7:37 am

  6. Interesting post. I will admit that my first reaction to a “new book about the history of Relief Society” was that it would just be another book of fluff without much substance. Your review of the pictures is right on. I also hate those “posed” pictures and always have. The historical and real ones are so good – why not have all of them real? Or at least, as much as possible.

    As to the substance of the book, I have been surprised as I have read it to find that I am actually enjoying it. There is a lot of history that I had forgotten. The personal stories fit somewhat in the same category as the pictures – some are so good and enlightening, others seem to be a little more fluff.

    I appreciate this attempt to remind the sisters of the purposes behind RS. I know that there are many who need to be reminded that this is not a social organization whose primary purpose is to get together to make crafts, with service as an afterthought. I think this book does a good job of making the point that service and caring are what it is all about – Relief, after all.

    It is somewhat generic, since it is appealing to a worldwide sisterhood. That is to be expected. Even the Ensign has become that to a large extent. I know the need to reach those young in the gospel is the overriding concern.

    I hope that you will find that there is some substance in this book, too. You just have to look under the fluff.

    Thanks for an honest opinion.

    Comment by Rosemary — September 30, 2011 @ 8:38 am

  7. A+ work!

    Comment by ji — September 30, 2011 @ 8:54 am

  8. #4 Amy: I guess I didn’t quite understand this comment: “On the other, perhaps it will advance a notion that women need soft-lit gilded picture books because they can’t handle meaty doctrine or history unadorned.”

    I haven’t seen any “meaty doctrine or history unadorned” published recently for the men of the church, either.

    Ardis, I enjoy reading your point of view. I share the disappointment at stock photos, whether in a book such as this or even in church magazines. I also agree, however, that flipping through the book I see many types of women, so that many women (if not all) are likely to find someone who looks like them in the book.

    I’ll be interested for your review of the text. I’ve been peeking at my wife’s copy.

    Comment by Paul — September 30, 2011 @ 9:20 am

  9. Interesting. My opinion is caught in two places about this book: on the one hand, I yearn for a meatier more comprehensive history, approved for our use so we can explore the complexities of what it means to be a Latter-day Saint woman. But on the other hand (and this simultaneously surprises and doesn’t surprise me), as a new Relief Society President (proving God’s wicked sense of humor), I feel an immense sense of “Yes,” or put another way satisfaction, that this particular approach and presentation of material, including the pictures and visual layout, is very much what I and the sisters in my ward need. I don’t know what to make of this opinion of mine. So I just sit with it.

    We’re introducing (distributing) the books at our Relief Society work meeting next Tuesday.

    Comment by Coffinberry — September 30, 2011 @ 9:41 am

  10. The ‘sacred books for men, lovely picture books for women’ allusion was powerful. Powerfully disturbing.

    Oh, and that term, “no nonsense women,” is superb. I think it perfectly describes that class of faithful women who might roll their eyes at the fluffy aspects of Relief Society. Thanks for enriching our LDS lexicon, you NNW Mormon, you.

    Comment by David Y. — September 30, 2011 @ 9:41 am

  11. Right on.

    Comment by Ben S — September 30, 2011 @ 9:46 am

  12. I have been waiting for your review and I really appreciate you sharing your thoughts. I understand what you mean by lovely picture books for women. I was also surprised by the amount of pictures and fluff in the book.

    I have to admit though, I have enjoyed the collage pictures at the front of each chapter, having discovered that they put a break down of what was included in each of those pictures in the back of the book in the list of visuals. Interesting to me, though maybe not to others.

    The book reminds me of the conference talk books put out by Deseret book. They take a conference talk that appeals to women, put it in fancy type, add pretty illustrations and sell it to women who could just read the talk out of the ensign or online.

    I will enjoy reading your thought on the text of ‘Daughters in my Kingdom’.
    (Is it just me or does the title seem a little more like a Young Women’s book than a Relief Society book? Isn’t there a children’s book with a similar title?)

    Comment by Karen — September 30, 2011 @ 9:49 am

  13. I’m reading and appreciating all the comments, although this seems like one of those posts where I’m better off not responding to each one. I especially appreciate that there has been, apparently, neither the need to rush reflexively to the defense of the Church, Relief Society, and DIMK as if I were slamming one or all, and also neither a felt invitation for others to list all the faults they can find in all things Mormon. Those will come sooner or later (they always do, and the most extreme from either side don’t find their way on blog, coming as they almost always do from people who are not regular Keepa readers and so misunderstand the nature of our community here), but that neither has popped up so far is a relief.

    Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — September 30, 2011 @ 9:50 am

  14. I was going to say something, but #8 beat me to it already with

    I haven’t seen any “meaty doctrine or history unadorned” published recently for the men of the church, either.

    Look no further than any Ensign printed in the last 2 years (Has any single story run longer than 2 pages?)

    Comment by The Other Clark — September 30, 2011 @ 10:22 am

  15. Granted, I’ve not gotten far into the book, but whether it’s because I’m a designer myself and have become immune, because I have no sense of humor, or because the potential contents of this book are so troubling to me that I have had an extremely serious mindset every time I open it, I didn’t even notice the graphics other than a cursory “Hmm, they like that brocade thing, don’t they?” and “Whew! It’s not pink.”

    But you have a good point.

    Comment by SilverRain — September 30, 2011 @ 10:40 am

  16. Ardis, I hope that it does turn out to be a book just for you, and no just “for other women”. You have continually struck me as the kind of strong, independant, and caring woman that this Church hopes “the other women” can see and emulate.

    For my reading of it, the number of pictures, sidebars, etc, were interesting, but very distracting when trying to actually read the text. I’ve only made it around halfway through. Maybe making a text only version will be easier.

    Of course, all the flouncyness of the book reminds me of the question of why a tablecloth makes a RS class. If I ever get back to teaching EQ, I am so bringing a tablecloth (and maybe a decrative flower arrangement), just to get their attention.

    Comment by Frank Pellett — September 30, 2011 @ 12:03 pm

  17. As a lover of and collector of antique linen, Frank, I have to say that I am one of those other women in that case, and understand exactly why a tablecloth adds so much to a Relief Society meeting.

    I wish I dared bring one for the hard, bare table in Sunday School.

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — September 30, 2011 @ 12:09 pm

  18. Perhaps in future printings, they could add a few “editorial comments” as in the commercial publishing world.

    “It’s not Pink!” Humorless Commenter
    “It’s a gift!” Primary Voice
    “It’s for other women!” Ranting Blogger
    “Lovely Pictures!” Yiddish Bookseller

    In all fairness, I have not yet read it, but it is sitting at home where my wife, the RS president, also has yet to read it. Maybe both of us can get around to it this weekend.

    Comment by kevinf — September 30, 2011 @ 12:36 pm

  19. Hmm . . . “Humorless Commenter.” I like it. Maybe I should change my screen name to “Humorless.”

    Comment by SilverRain — September 30, 2011 @ 2:01 pm

  20. Yay Ardis! You go girl. Is it ok if I wait along with you (as long as it takes) for the scholar/historian/theologian’s book about women in the kingdom?
    I gave my copy of this book away to a woman I visit teach. Maybe she’ll find something in it that inspires her.

    Comment by Mommie Dearest — September 30, 2011 @ 2:42 pm

  21. The page 121 photo looks like great propaganda for modern-day polygamy. I have opened the book several times as well but always find myself flipping through it instead of being able to read it.

    Comment by Michelle Glauser — September 30, 2011 @ 5:11 pm

  22. #21 Michelle,

    That is exactly what I thought when I saw that picture.

    Comment by xenologue — September 30, 2011 @ 9:17 pm

  23. I think the cover is pretty. If there is going to be fluff, I’m glad that it is pretty blue fluff.

    Comment by HokieKate — October 1, 2011 @ 8:08 am

  24. My thought when reading the book is that it is probably easy to translate into other languages.

    At first I was a tad frustrated with this book, but my heart has softened a bit. I was reminded one day of my former mission companion from Mongolia and her worry that her knowledge would be limited due to the fact that there wasn’t much church history translated into her native language. She actually joined the church without being able to read the Book of Mormon (it wasn’t translated until much later). She was pretty amazing, I’m hopeful for her that she’ll benefit from this book.

    I wish the church would release the actual history that was compiled as a precursor to this book. It sounds fascinating and from what I’ve read it took a long time to compile.

    Comment by Marie — October 1, 2011 @ 4:56 pm

  25. Yeah … as I said, I know this book is designed for women in other places, like your Mongolian mission companion. And don’t tell me my “heart is hard” because this book frustrates me. Don’t do it. You would tie yourself in knots to defend your Mongolian mission companion if she were frustrated by a book produced for me; have the same charity for me when I’m frustrated by a book produced for her, one that I’m expected to embrace as if I liked my history wrapped up in perfumed ribbon and lace and squeezed into odd corners where they couldn’t find a picture to stick in.

    I doubt the compilation was anything special. Raw materials don’t make good history. Selection and interpretation and arrangement do.

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — October 1, 2011 @ 5:11 pm

  26. Woah! Ardis, I wasn’t attacking you, and I wasn’t inferring that your heart is hard.

    I was just sharing a thought I had as I’ve struggled with this book release, please don’t jump down my throat for it.

    This wasn’t the book I was personally hoping for either.

    Comment by Marie — October 1, 2011 @ 5:23 pm

  27. Okay. I did warn you that I was feeling sandpapered by being repeatedly told this book was meant for other women, and I should just be quiet and pretend I loved it too.

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — October 1, 2011 @ 5:33 pm

  28. I’m really sorry that my comment sounded the way it did, I really didn’t mean for it to come off that way.
    I’ve actually really appreciated your honesty on this subject.

    Comment by Marie — October 1, 2011 @ 8:06 pm

  29. Sorry. I’m in a worse mood than I realized. There was nothing wrong with your comment, and I hope I haven’t driven you away.

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — October 1, 2011 @ 8:37 pm

  30. I just read the book.

    It is . . . strange.

    The first half is historical. The last half is thematic. My first thought was that the Relief Society hadn’t had enough substantive history to fill it.

    Overall, it is pretty shallow. I read the entire thing in about 40 minutes.

    The pictures and illustrations are highly distracting. They are literally — everywhere.

    But, the oddest element is the text. Entire decades are reduced to a page or two. Or, utterly skipped altogether. Stories generally are a paragraph or two. There is nothing with any real development.

    My general sense is that it feels . . fluffy.

    It reminded me of something designed for teenagers. I could easily see it as a Young Women’s manual. It would provide plenty of material for a month or two.

    Comment by Steve — October 1, 2011 @ 9:02 pm

  31. Is it wrong of me to feel that there’s an issue over and above the contents/design of this book, namely the fact that here in the UK we haven’t seen sight nor sound of it (at least not in my area)? That plus the always-late arrival of the Church magazines and most other newly-released materials other than curriculum stuff has never ceased to irk me. I’m aware DIMK is available online, but it’s not the same as having a tangible copy, plus I can’t give it out to the sisters in our RS who don’t have computer access (being also *cough* blessed to be a RS president). So I can’t give any opinion on the contents of the book, but appreciate the OP and the comments.

    Comment by Alison — October 2, 2011 @ 7:46 am

  32. It was distributed in my ward last Sunday, four weeks after it was distributed to the other ward in the building — I had picked up two unsigned/unclaimed copies from the lost and found (a hazard of distributing free stuff: most people don’t value it at all) before I was given a copy officially. And you still don’t have it in Britain, and who knows how long it will take to be translated, printed, shipped and distributed to non-English language areas.

    I wonder what the hurry was, rather than waiting until, say, the first of the year, or whenever it could be delivered in at least all English language areas, to be distributed at the same time, avoiding this sense of first- and second-class citizenship?

    History is very seldom an emergency, after all.

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — October 2, 2011 @ 8:22 am

  33. I’ve noticed that rarely does anything come last to where you live, Ardis (nothing personal!). With the unlovely exception of New FamilySearch…

    Comment by Alison — October 2, 2011 @ 8:33 am

  34. I wouldn’t mind if we were still waiting to have that one inflicted on us, Alison!

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — October 2, 2011 @ 9:04 am

  35. History is very seldom an emergency, after all.

    Probably only when the publisher is breathing down your neck. : )

    Comment by Researcher — October 2, 2011 @ 9:27 am

  36. Ardis,

    I understand, don’t worry I like your blog too much to go away.

    Comment by Marie — October 2, 2011 @ 8:28 pm

  37. While this isn’t probably a solution for you Ardis, Keepa is my solution to wanting a more substantial look at church history and doctrine. It seems that we are to rely on members within the church (like yourself Ardis) for the more meaty discussions on church history rather than church produced materials.

    Comment by Amanda — October 2, 2011 @ 8:31 pm

  38. and with further thought….

    I don’t know that we are always doing our newest members a service when we simplify the lives of women who have lived the gospel or gloss over details that are difficult to explain (turn it to “fluff”). Their lives were difficult and sometimes a simple “and then she was healed” doesn’t convey the same power as telling the full story. As women in the church, we are not simpletons. We face difficult and complex decisions daily on how to live the gospel and I think we could all appreciate learning how other faithful women have faced similar difficult decisions. But maybe the issue of translation is bigger than I know?

    Comment by Amanda — October 2, 2011 @ 8:32 pm

  39. I’m with Amanda again. On both points.

    Comment by Carol — October 3, 2011 @ 9:22 am

  40. I just want to stop by and let you know how much I have learned from Keepa since I’ve put it in my regular blog roatation. So much history, and the history of women in the church, especially the kind that fleshes out the skeleton that we too often receive from our fellow church volunteers. I also have been edified by the attention given here to what constitutes good history and what provenance is. There is no lip service paid to appearances, nor are the painful or less polished elements glossed over or embellished, but presented in plain honesty. Handling history thus is close to my heart.

    I gave away my first copy of “Daughters in My Kingdom”, I’ll get another when I get back to the regular schedule of Sunday meetings, and I’ll give it a fair reading, in spite of the overload of design distractions. However I very much doubt that for me it will rank with the scriptures or the best gems I’ve found at Keepa.

    Comment by Mommie Dearest — October 4, 2011 @ 1:00 am

  41. Amen to Amanda and MommieDearest. Thank you Ardis!

    Comment by HokieKate — October 4, 2011 @ 4:29 pm

  42. I’ve got some distance to go to live up to these comments. Maybe committing publicly here to posting the article I’m writing about the Relief Society and Mormon Handicraft will cause me to finish it in the next couple of weeks and make that contribution to appreciating that great experiment by our grandmothers and their sisters.

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — October 4, 2011 @ 4:35 pm

  43. Thanks for this review. What a great idea to review the visuals separately.

    Re: Picture on page 100, shown above: If you look closely, you can see the women holding photographs of the general RS presidency. This fact diminishes the picture for me, but I’m not sure why!

    I enjoyed looking at the beginning page of each chapter — the page showing various artifacts — and then reading about the artifacts in the endnotes section. Sometimes, I found the choice of objects kind of weird, but I liked many of them. Does anyone know Carma de Jong Andersen? She furnished many items. I believe she is a clothing historian or something like that.

    Re: your first kind of visual that “conveys content.” I looked in vain for adequate detail in the endnotes section for these visuals. I wish I knew where and when those pictures were taken, and people’s names if known. If they are anything but stock photos, I believe we should be told more information about them.

    Comment by Joanne — October 10, 2011 @ 10:39 am

  44. Ardis, will you be writing a review of the text? I am really interested in your thoughts about it.

    Comment by Stephanie — October 16, 2011 @ 10:31 am

  45. Yes, I’ve finally been able to read it, after stripping out the distracting abundance of images (I made a text-ony Kindle version for myself) and I expect to have a review up early this week. Thanks for asking.

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — October 16, 2011 @ 12:11 pm

  46. Carma deJong Anderson was the daughter of Gerrit deJong, for whom one of the concert halls at BYU was named. She was the wife of Richard Lloyd Anderson, who was on the religion faculty at BYU for many years. I’d have to scrape deeper into my memory to try to remember what her academic interests were. (And likely wouldn’t come up with much.)

    Comment by Mark B. — October 17, 2011 @ 8:33 am

  47. Mark, yes. And I know she has a PhD in something to do with clothing.

    Comment by Joanne — October 19, 2011 @ 8:58 pm

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