Blog Archives
The Ancient Moon Goddess, Crushed by Patriarchy, Buried by Judaism, Hidden in Christianity
The Ancient Moon Goddess by Dale W O’Neal tells a bold story. The authors argue that early humans saw menstrual blood as “moon blood” and as the raw stuff of life, so the first religion centered on a powerful moon Goddess. From there, they follow a long “blood trail” through Stone Age animism, sacrificial rituals, castration and circumcision, and then into Hebrew scripture and finally Christianity, where the Goddess gets pushed underground but never quite disappears. The book mixes myth analysis, archeology, and close readings of biblical texts to claim that many familiar doctrines about sin, sacrifice, and salvation grew out of this older Goddess religion.
The core idea was gripping and unsettling for me. The link between menstrual cycles and the moon seems obvious once they lay it out, and the way they build a whole religious worldview from that simple pattern has real power. I felt drawn in when they described ancient people living in a “spirit-filled” world, where every hill and river had a soul and where the moon’s waxing and waning set the rhythm for life, death, and rebirth. Their account of how sacrificial systems grow from imitation of the moon’s self-emptying cycle hits hard emotionally, because it turns grim stories of blood and death into a kind of tragic misunderstanding of nature rather than pure cruelty.
The writing is clear, direct, and often vivid, and the authors do a good job explaining ideas like sympathetic magic, animism, and “as above, so below” in plain language. The personal backstory of Dale O’Neal’s exit from evangelical Christianity gives the project emotional weight and makes the stakes of the argument feel very real, especially when he wrestles with doctrines of hell, female subordination, and blood atonement. The tone carries a clear, unapologetic conviction that readers may find energizing, and its strong critique of patriarchy keeps the argument sharp and focused. The authors write with such confidence in their perspective that the book often feels like a manifesto, which will especially appeal to readers who prefer bold, decisive interpretations over cautious academic debate.
I would recommend this book to readers who are curious about the deep roots of biblical religion, who enjoy mythic thinking, and who feel ready to question standard church teachings about sacrifice, sin, and gender. I think it will especially resonate with ex-believers, feminist readers, fans of Joseph Campbell or Marija Gimbutas, and anyone who likes bold “big picture” narratives about religion’s origin and evolution. For me, it was a provocative and emotionally charged read that I will keep turning over in my mind for a long time.
Pages: 322 | ASIN : B0FRN9PNXL
A Story of Self-Reflection
Blood Flow is a raw, unfiltered memoir that stitches together decades of family trauma, personal ambition, health battles, and the relentless search for meaning. Why was this an important book for you to write?
I believe that almost all people endure a significant trauma at least once in their lives. Mine was the suicide death of my father, soon after I turned thirteen years old. Parent loss is trauma, especially to the young, who may lack the information or understanding of why such tragedies happen. In my case, I began interviewing family and obtaining three sets of hospitalization records when my dad was admitted for severe depression and suicidal ideation. I traveled to Trieste, Italy, where he was stationed as an army doctor, and to the Eastern European town where he was born and emigrated from with his family when he was three years old, already fatherless himself. This decades-long search provided a deep understanding of my dad’s history and an appreciation that he was in my life as long as he was.
What were some ideas that were important for you to share in this book?
Sometimes, people need to make a concerted effort to overcome trauma and see life as a great gift. It’s good for adult children to learn what they can about their parents because that knowledge will inform their understanding of their childhood. As a writer, I think that a memoir should not just be a story of victimhood and blame, but rather a story of self-reflection and knowledge, realizing that most people do the best they can with what they have.
What was the most challenging part of writing your memoir, and what was the most rewarding?
The most challenging part of writing my memoir was twofold. One was trying to stay objective while remaining compassionate and emotionally attached to events that radically changed my life. Two was repeatedly redrafting and revising the writing until I found a narrative structure, voice, pacing, and succinct narrative style to engage readers.
How has writing your memoir impacted or changed your life?
Completing my memoir and having it published brought closure to a writing project that took me decades to “get right.” Revisiting the traumatic events and aftermath of my father’s suicide eventually helped me understand and practice compassion, love, and a full appreciation of life.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website | Amazon
Blood Flow: A son’s 40-year journey to understand his father’s suicide
Larry Bograd’s Blood Flow is a raw, unfiltered memoir that stitches together decades of family trauma, personal ambition, health battles, and the relentless search for meaning. Starting with his heart surgery at age 53, eerily close to when his father died, Bograd flips back and forth through time, weaving stories of boyhood misadventures, a rocky writing career, and adult anxieties. It’s not a straight line; it’s a winding, messy journey through memories, many of them bittersweet, some of them laugh-out-loud funny, and others gut-wrenchingly sad.
One thing I really liked about Blood Flow was how unsparingly honest Bograd is about himself. He doesn’t polish the mirror. When he writes about dragging his broken post-surgery body across airports in “Canceled,” you can feel his pain and his stubbornness. I almost wanted to yell at the pages: “Larry, go home, man!” He talks about dragging his carry-on bag, stinking from a day’s worth of sweat and city grime, just to chase after the consulting career he had risked everything to build. It’s both hilarious and heartbreaking, and it made me really root for him, even when he made some obviously terrible choices. You don’t often see a memoirist so willing to look foolish, and it made him feel incredibly human.
Another thing that stuck with me was the way he tackled family history, especially the chapters where he digs into his father’s mysterious past and death. In “Bubbe Meises,” he interviews long-lost cousins Edna and Archie, piecing together the broken story of a man who was charming, brilliant, and ultimately crushed by depression. These scenes were deeply emotional, full of love but also full of pain. I teared up when Edna said, “Did he want to kill all of us? Because that’s what he did!” That moment hit like a gut punch. It made me think about how family stories are stitched together from grief and guilt just as much as from love.
That said, there were moments when the memoir became weighed down by its own melancholy. Certain sections, such as “Working in a Coal Mine, Going Down, Down, Down,” are particularly mired in introspection and financial anxiety. While the depth of personal struggle is understandable, I occasionally wished Bograd had broadened the perspective, offering a wider view beyond his internal battles. Nevertheless, even in the slower passages, his sharp humor and keen observations continued to offer compelling reasons to stay engaged.
By the end of Blood Flow, I felt like I had walked a long, hard road with Bograd, and weirdly, I didn’t feel sad. I felt grateful. Grateful for the honesty, for the messy way he told the truth, for the weird little triumphs tucked between all the losses. I would absolutely recommend this book to anyone who’s ever struggled with family legacy, creative dreams that don’t pan out the way you hope, or the sheer stubborn business of staying alive. If you like memoirs that are gritty, funny, tender, and sometimes a little heartbreaking, Blood Flow will absolutely be worth your time.
Pages; 264 | ASIN : B0F1TZYZ3R
The Bookbinder: A Personal Journey with the Tsaddik Rabbi Yitzhak Kaduri
In an age where science attempts to explain everything, it can feel like the world has run out of mysteries. In reality, we still struggle to rationalize many aspects of life. Batya M. Goldman’s memoir, The Bookbinder: A Personal Journey with the Tsaddik Rabbi Yitzhak Kaduri sheds light on one such mystery. The book follows Goldman’s family as they move to Israel, try to raise a family, battle illness, and start their own business. All of these endeavors keep connecting to the famous (although highly secretive) Rabbi Kaduri: a physical as well as spiritual bookbinder.
Much of the memoir focuses on Goldman’s family life in Israel. But she clearly shares these stories in an attempt to fill a void left by a humble man who did his work without concern for his lasting legacy. This old soul helped guide Israel and its people through many decades. And the insight into his methods, perhaps being written down for the first time, is fascinating.
Still, there is no doubt that Goldman wrote this book for an audience familiar with Orthodox Judaism. That’s not to say that there’s nothing here for readers from different backgrounds. The stories are layered with journeys and returns between Israel and the United States. It’s also a moving portrayal of a young mother in a new land with a traveling husband dealing with chronic health problems. In these sections, Goldman praises the community she discovered in Israel. Relative strangers, linked by connections to Rabbi Kaduri, take care of one another. Accounts of miracles and visions from deceased loved ones also pepper the account. These always seem to be presented in a straightforward, matter of fact way. In doing so, the memoir has an honesty to it that those who don’t prescribe to the Jewish faith should appreciate, but will probably be confused by.
Ultimately, Goldman delivers a sincere account of a life both vastly different and surprisingly similar to that of the average reader. The specifics of her memoir will likely appeal to those already familiar with, or interested in learning, Orthodox Judaism or Israeli culture.
Pages: 105 | ASIN: 151941868X
