Title & author
Godshot by Chelsea Bieker
Synopsis
Godshot follows Lacey May, a fourteen-year-old girl growing up in Peaches, California as she navigates her identity through the lenses of feminism, religion, motherhood, and knowledge. Growing up in a cult dependent upon a corrupt Pastor who especially focuses his attention on the women in the community, Lacey must navigate the oppressive culture without the guidance of her mother. Bieker executes a stark and much-needed portrayal of the extent patriarchal values oppress women, all while exploring the intersection of religion and feminism.
Who should read this book
Fans of The Girls and Long Live the Tribe of Fatherless Girls
What we’re thinking about
How we need to have more conversations about the coexistence of feminism and religion
Trigger warning(s)
Sexual violence, substance abuse, abandonment
Although many might argue we are amidst a 21st century feminist literary canon, there are few stories that explore the coexistence of religion and feminism, particularly within a young narrator. The two ideologies are often at odds with one another, the former perhaps stereotypically associated with conservatives, and the latter with liberals. But in an increasingly divisive political climate, should there be conversation about how individuals can both be religious and feminist? This exploration is the focus of Chelsea Bieker’s debut novel Godshot (Catapult, 2020), and the author does an exceptional job at depicting the difficulties of such a journey.
Godshot follows Lacey May, a fourteen-year-old girl growing up in Peaches, California as she navigates her identity through the lenses of feminism, religion, motherhood, and knowledge. Lacey and her town follow their Pastor, Vern, believing “God [is] in Vern” (Bieker, 42). Peaches’ inhabitants trust in their Pastor, following all of his instructions and ultimately forming a cult-like community. “To have an assignment, Pastor Vern said, you had to be a woman of blood… And you should never reveal your assignment to another soul” (1). Residents await their special task from Vern—the parameters of which automatically cue readers into the potential dangers the character might face going forward—and are not allowed to discuss the details with anyone, including family. So when Lacey’s mother abandons her after working on a mysterious assignment, an increasingly curious Lacey begins to look into why and where she’s gone.
Bieker executes a stark and much-needed portrayal of the extent patriarchal values oppress women. When driving past a sign warning of global warming, a term Lacey May has never heard before, she knows she will not look into it as “curiosity was the first rung on the ladder down to hell” (25). The local officer is “not really of the mind that girls need such a broad education” (216). Lacey May’s day to day life introduces the reader to the various ways these ingrained values oppress her and other women in the town. And Bieker draws a clear line between choice and routine; while the men oppress the women, how much of it is because it is all they know and are told? “The thing about signs is that they are up to each person in how they will be believed,” Lacey thinks after hearing Vern’s homily at mass. If the men in town were told by Vern to treat the women like equals, would they know any different? In many ways—particularly in religion—the townspeople are uninformed, believing they are on the right path to being saved by God.
Education and access to information initiate a turning point in the novel for Lacey May, allowing her to find inner strength and opinions. Working at the home of the ostracized Daisy and her daughter Florin, Lacey learns that in their house, women are “’in control…not them’” (121). They provide her with magazines to learn about life beyond Peaches and information otherwise barred from her and expose her to sexuality and body positivity. Later in the story, as one town member complains about being in labor, pregnancy being a subject women do not learn about, Lacey replies, “’You’re not in labor. I bet you’re not even dilated’” (301). As Lacey learns more, her confidence and strength grows. “Was this how it felt to give up religion?” she wonders (177). “For the rest of your life feeling good good good but always scanning the shadows for an archer, always wondering late at night before you sleep if you had squandered your eternity?” (177). Although Lacey begins to challenge Vern and his teachings, Bieker realistically depicts the process as not simple, but a battle.
And it is this battle that explores the important topic of religion versus feminism, and religion and feminism. Lacey “wished God himself would tell me what to do himself, not through the mouth of a man” (99). Though she starts to question Vern and his teachings, she does not stray from God, rather believing he is good. She realizes, unlike Vern’s church, “God didn’t need glitter to be God, to be with me, real as anything” (310). Lacey doesn’t pitch God against the feminist beliefs she grows into, rather allows them to coexist. And once she realizes the extent of Vern’s actions and also begins to realize her true strength that stems from her womanhood, she realizes that “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to figure out belief, and if the good I know of God is true, there is time enough” (319). She finds her independence and her contentment with religion, Bieker using Lacey May to explore the oftentimes unimaginable question of how a woman can be a feminist and believe in God.
In an information age, especially amidst a pandemic, we see how a lack of information can lead people to follow those with big promises, who rely on words—not information—to compel a crowd. Bieker explores this issue in a fascinating way, tackling some incredibly necessary and relevant topics. She does a stark and important job at shining a light on how ingrained patriarchal values oppress women and how education and information are necessary for them to find strength.
“‘I don’t mean beautiful like you’re thinking. I mean beautiful. I mean, deep and changed. Affected. Wise. When you see a woman like that, you know. She’s beautiful because of her undoing. Beautiful because she rebirthed herself from ashes.’
”
Join in
Contribute your thoughts by using the “Leave a comment” button found underneath the share buttons below. Answer one of these questions, ask your own, respond to others, and more.
What role do youth and childhood play in Godshot? Does this shape our understanding of religion and feminism?
Lacy May, her mother, her grandmother, and Daisy— how is motherhood portrayed throughout the text? How does this influence our perspective of gender roles?
Please note that all comments must be approved by the moderator before posting. We reserve the right to deny offensive or spam-related commentary. And, for the wellbeing of our BIPOC, LGBTQIA+, and/or disabled-identifying community members, please respect the personal capacity to address questions on certain topics. We encourage you to search for the answer in a great book or online instead. Thank you!