Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 2, No. 3, 2003, Page 30
my thoughts to preparing the product for the next day. There was no time to
waste.
Both these stories were good attempts to process my cult experience, but they were
deficient because they were based on the false premise that mind control did not exist and
that people joined the Unification Church based solely on their emotional need.
However, in 1992, as I was planning a novel that would include a forcible deprogramming—
a procedure to which I was strongly opposed—I realized that I understood very little about
the rationale behind deprogramming and why anyone might attempt to do this. I decided
that even though I had an intense phobic reaction to the mere idea of reading books by
former Unification Church members, I was unlikely to be able to write convincingly about a
deprogramming unless I read something about it. So one day I noticed a copy of Steven
Hassan‘s book, Combating Cult Mind Control, in a bookstore, and after much hesitation I
reluctantly bought it and began to read. To my own amazement, I was completely won over
by Hassan‘s arguments. Reading that book opened the floodgates for me—soon after that, I
read Lifton‘s study of thought reform, and I began to devour all the published accounts
written by former Unificationists. I realized that mind control was a real thing that I had
personally endured, and I began to recast my writing to take this new understanding into
account.
It was only after I reached this key understanding that I stopped writing about my cult
experiences exclusively in fiction and poetry and also began writing about them in
non-fiction articles for the Vancouver Sun newspaper. Later, when it became clear that no
newspaper article or personal essay could answer all the questions people have about my
cult experiences, I decided to write the entire story from start to finish in a book-length
memoir. That project eventually became Heartbreak and Rage: Ten Years Under Sun Myung
Moon.
Conclusion
For twelve years, from 1980 to 1992, writing encouraged me to engage in emotional
expression in situations in which I was constantly being told, and I generally believed, that I
had a moral obligation to repress my deepest thoughts and feelings. This is not to say that
it is impossible to write entirely out of a cultic mindset, but such writing tends to read more
like propaganda than serious literature. Consider the artistic style known as Socialist
Realism, which was once the official style for artists in the former Soviet Union—and then
consider how little art of merit was ever produced using that style. Serious personal writing,
by contrast, puts a person back in touch with his or her real feelings, and therefore provides
the tools for him or her to escape the maze of cultic thinking and repression.
Henriette Klauser, PhD, in her recent book, With Pen in Hand: The Healing Power of Writing,
offers a number of helpful tips for using writing as an aid to emotional healing. The most
helpful suggestion for the purposes of cult survivors is probably the one that appears at the
close of Chapter 13, in which the struggles of Mike, a Vietnam War veteran, are described:
Consider writing a memoir about an important event in your life. Not for
publication, but for yourself, to name what shaped you, and perhaps to share
with a few select close friends and family members. Mike told the people he
shared his story with, ―If you want to understand me, here it is—this is what I
went through.‖
Be honest write continuously, without worrying about style or grammar. The
more you write, the more you will remember.
Just start. (Klauser, 218)
my thoughts to preparing the product for the next day. There was no time to
waste.
Both these stories were good attempts to process my cult experience, but they were
deficient because they were based on the false premise that mind control did not exist and
that people joined the Unification Church based solely on their emotional need.
However, in 1992, as I was planning a novel that would include a forcible deprogramming—
a procedure to which I was strongly opposed—I realized that I understood very little about
the rationale behind deprogramming and why anyone might attempt to do this. I decided
that even though I had an intense phobic reaction to the mere idea of reading books by
former Unification Church members, I was unlikely to be able to write convincingly about a
deprogramming unless I read something about it. So one day I noticed a copy of Steven
Hassan‘s book, Combating Cult Mind Control, in a bookstore, and after much hesitation I
reluctantly bought it and began to read. To my own amazement, I was completely won over
by Hassan‘s arguments. Reading that book opened the floodgates for me—soon after that, I
read Lifton‘s study of thought reform, and I began to devour all the published accounts
written by former Unificationists. I realized that mind control was a real thing that I had
personally endured, and I began to recast my writing to take this new understanding into
account.
It was only after I reached this key understanding that I stopped writing about my cult
experiences exclusively in fiction and poetry and also began writing about them in
non-fiction articles for the Vancouver Sun newspaper. Later, when it became clear that no
newspaper article or personal essay could answer all the questions people have about my
cult experiences, I decided to write the entire story from start to finish in a book-length
memoir. That project eventually became Heartbreak and Rage: Ten Years Under Sun Myung
Moon.
Conclusion
For twelve years, from 1980 to 1992, writing encouraged me to engage in emotional
expression in situations in which I was constantly being told, and I generally believed, that I
had a moral obligation to repress my deepest thoughts and feelings. This is not to say that
it is impossible to write entirely out of a cultic mindset, but such writing tends to read more
like propaganda than serious literature. Consider the artistic style known as Socialist
Realism, which was once the official style for artists in the former Soviet Union—and then
consider how little art of merit was ever produced using that style. Serious personal writing,
by contrast, puts a person back in touch with his or her real feelings, and therefore provides
the tools for him or her to escape the maze of cultic thinking and repression.
Henriette Klauser, PhD, in her recent book, With Pen in Hand: The Healing Power of Writing,
offers a number of helpful tips for using writing as an aid to emotional healing. The most
helpful suggestion for the purposes of cult survivors is probably the one that appears at the
close of Chapter 13, in which the struggles of Mike, a Vietnam War veteran, are described:
Consider writing a memoir about an important event in your life. Not for
publication, but for yourself, to name what shaped you, and perhaps to share
with a few select close friends and family members. Mike told the people he
shared his story with, ―If you want to understand me, here it is—this is what I
went through.‖
Be honest write continuously, without worrying about style or grammar. The
more you write, the more you will remember.
Just start. (Klauser, 218)
