From the very first paragraph, nothing more aptly describes
Jenna Miscavige Hill’s Beyond Belief:My Secret Life Inside Scientology and My Harrowing Escape than “beyond belief.”
Growing up in the throes of Scientology, first as an outsider then as a full-fledged participant as her parents got more immersed in the “religion,” Hill’s experience was confusing, contemplative, mysterious, and anxiety-ridden all rolled in to one, which, excuse me if I’m wrong, isn’t supposed to be the epitome of religious epicenters as it so claims. As a disclaimer, I warn you my review is biased and largely tainted by my new-found Scientology education and I could very possibly come across hostile and I completely mean to.
Jenna’s life started as most of ours do – school, friends, chores, relatively stable home-life with most of the activities and minutia we civilians – or Wogs as we’re referred to by Scientologists – take for granted. Her grandfather played a prominent role in the founding of Scientology, thereby forcing his son, Jenna’s father, into the organization. Generally against it, Jenna and her siblings began their childhood, like I said, as most do. At some point, however, her father decided Scientology was the way to go and packed up the family to live in what I can only describe as a very underdeveloped compound.
Separated from her family for extended periods of time, only getting to see her parents at most an hour each week, Jenna’s “schooling” consisted of learning via memorization of L. Ron Hubbard’s “teachings,” emotion control, and manual labor to restore “The Ranch,” a California desert expanse of dilapidated buildings that was to one day be a major hub of Scientology.
Predominantly reminding me of a very brief reality show in which kids lived in a replicated old Western town and we got to watch what would happen if the world was left up to children, adults were often absent from The Ranch, but neither adults or fellow children could be trusted. As part of the higher class of the "church," Jenna was constantly scrutinized, monitored, questioned, and even punished for indiscretions she was often completely unaware of.
Hill explained early on the the founders of Scientology learned they could be an organization without religious affiliation and avoid some such tax law, but what the public is actually funding is nothing more than a cult. With no god(s), idols, deities, prayers, ceremonies, or anything involving anything spiritual, how exactly does it fall under the religious umbrella?
Operating on a belief of sort-of reincarnation, Scientology is based largely on the amount of control we have over ourselves and emotions; thus more supernatural than spiritual, as supposed previous lives are thrown into the mix. Scientology is of a fundamentalist nature based largely on the treatment of their members and the lengths they'll go to avoid scandal.
It's a benefit to the book that the baseline story is interesting as the writing would have caused me to put it down barely a third of the way into it. Written accompanied by another author, it is definitely obvious who wrote what.
The content alone is enough to keep you reading. But it's frustrating at times, hard to witness Jenna's treatment then subsequent devotion to to a group who didn't want to keep her but couldn't get rid of her and ultimately didn't know what to do with her. More than one thing will boggle your mind as you have this front-row seat to the largest (at least one of?) government subsidized cult.
Growing up in the throes of Scientology, first as an outsider then as a full-fledged participant as her parents got more immersed in the “religion,” Hill’s experience was confusing, contemplative, mysterious, and anxiety-ridden all rolled in to one, which, excuse me if I’m wrong, isn’t supposed to be the epitome of religious epicenters as it so claims. As a disclaimer, I warn you my review is biased and largely tainted by my new-found Scientology education and I could very possibly come across hostile and I completely mean to.
Jenna’s life started as most of ours do – school, friends, chores, relatively stable home-life with most of the activities and minutia we civilians – or Wogs as we’re referred to by Scientologists – take for granted. Her grandfather played a prominent role in the founding of Scientology, thereby forcing his son, Jenna’s father, into the organization. Generally against it, Jenna and her siblings began their childhood, like I said, as most do. At some point, however, her father decided Scientology was the way to go and packed up the family to live in what I can only describe as a very underdeveloped compound.
Separated from her family for extended periods of time, only getting to see her parents at most an hour each week, Jenna’s “schooling” consisted of learning via memorization of L. Ron Hubbard’s “teachings,” emotion control, and manual labor to restore “The Ranch,” a California desert expanse of dilapidated buildings that was to one day be a major hub of Scientology.
Predominantly reminding me of a very brief reality show in which kids lived in a replicated old Western town and we got to watch what would happen if the world was left up to children, adults were often absent from The Ranch, but neither adults or fellow children could be trusted. As part of the higher class of the "church," Jenna was constantly scrutinized, monitored, questioned, and even punished for indiscretions she was often completely unaware of.
Hill explained early on the the founders of Scientology learned they could be an organization without religious affiliation and avoid some such tax law, but what the public is actually funding is nothing more than a cult. With no god(s), idols, deities, prayers, ceremonies, or anything involving anything spiritual, how exactly does it fall under the religious umbrella?
Operating on a belief of sort-of reincarnation, Scientology is based largely on the amount of control we have over ourselves and emotions; thus more supernatural than spiritual, as supposed previous lives are thrown into the mix. Scientology is of a fundamentalist nature based largely on the treatment of their members and the lengths they'll go to avoid scandal.
It's a benefit to the book that the baseline story is interesting as the writing would have caused me to put it down barely a third of the way into it. Written accompanied by another author, it is definitely obvious who wrote what.
The content alone is enough to keep you reading. But it's frustrating at times, hard to witness Jenna's treatment then subsequent devotion to to a group who didn't want to keep her but couldn't get rid of her and ultimately didn't know what to do with her. More than one thing will boggle your mind as you have this front-row seat to the largest (at least one of?) government subsidized cult.
