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Content warnings: homophobia, child abuse, religious abuse, physical abuse
Gay the Pray Away by Natalie Naudus follows Valerie Danners as she begins to understand and live her own truth. Unfortunately for Valerie, the truth of her sexuality is beyond unacceptable to her conservative Christian community, and she may not be able to have herself and her family.
I looked forward to reading this book. It combines two of my interests, sapphic characters and high-control religious groups, and one on count it thrives. The relationship between Riley and Valerie progresses naturally and is beyond adorable. I loved their sweet moments sharing each other’s passions and getting to be carefree teenagers together. Their stolen and cobbled-together dates shine throughout the book, even with a tremor of fear always running through them. I knew from the summary on the back cover that discovery was inevitable.
Which leads into the book’s weaknesses.
First, the blurb tells a majority of the story. In a way, that’s hard to avoid; this is a character-driven book, not plot-heavy. Maybe most readers found the book predictable. Maybe that doesn’t matter. With the character’s arc at the heart of this story and the warmly colored, borderline-idyllic art on the cover, even mildly savvy readers likely guessed the sort of ending this one had in store. I don’t mean that as a criticism. Plenty of queer readers want happy endings and with good reason.
However, the character’s initial perspective deserves analysis. This is supposed to be a book about Valerie deconstructing her faith. I assert that due to several scenes in which she confronts new information and experiences in the light of conservative Christian teachings. That is the book I wanted and the book I came for.
Unfortunately, it is not this book. From her introduction, Valerie does not hold those teachings. She tells us at the start how boring she finds Bible study, how she constantly daydreams during morning prayers. After sneaking a queer book from the library, she holes up in her closet to read it; this closet is set up as her little hideaway. Valerie complains about the rules under which she lives pretty much from the start. This is something that frustrates me because it feels like this fear of making mistakes. It feels like a concern on the part of maybe a writer or editor that Valerie won’t be likable enough if she holds unpopular beliefs. But a lot of people growing up in high-control religious groups genuinely hold beliefs they are raised with, beliefs many of us would deem problematic—they hold, in essence, the beliefs from which Valerie claims to be deconstructing. She is not deconstructing. You cannot deconstruct what was never built.
That is my biggest criticism of this book. Its lack of plot I can excuse. Its predictable ending seems reasonable. But the summary selling this as a deconstruction story, the passages in which Valerie claims to hold beliefs that conflict with what we’re shown prior just long enough for her to change her views? That frustrated me. The intended core of the book serves a context wholly different from the one provided here.
Gay the Pray Away is not a bad book. If you want a sweet romance in dangerous times, this is an excellent choice. My frustration is aimed at the marketing. This isn’t about a girl picking apart the toxic messaging she’s internalized; those scenes could have been removed without altering the story at all. My recommendation would be to go into it aware and keep your expectations reasonable.
