Review Tuesday: Heaven's Brides by Jessica Mandella -- #LGBTQ #spirituality #ReviewTuesday

Heaven’s Brides by Jessica Mandella

Excessica, 2017

When popular TV pastor Max Johnson discovers his wife Gloria has a female lover, he is simultaneously shocked, hurt and aroused. He can’t help following her to the club where she’s meeting her paramour Sylvia. Then someone slips him some bad drugs and he ends up dead—at least temporarily.

The epiphany he experiences on the other side of the veil changes him forever. Brought back to life, perhaps by his wife’s uncanny powers, he dumps his old sponsors who encouraged him to preach anti-sex, anti-gay, fire-and-brimstone lessons, hires a dyke motorcycle gang to provide security, dons a rainbow-colored suit, and gives his flock an eye-opening sermon claiming the Bible has been misinterpreted and mistranslated. According to the wisdom he received during his temporary stint in the afterlife, God does not condemn sex, including LGBTQ sex. Nor does the Bible prohibit plural marriage. All believers are free to become brides of heaven, loving one another (including in the most carnal ways imaginable) as long as they do so in a spirit of worship, respect and mutual pleasure.

Max, Gloria, their new wife Sylvia, the motorcycle gang members, and various parishioners then proceed to practice what he has preached.

Heaven’s Brides by Jessica Mandella is a wild, gender-bending, funny, touching, over-the-top book that is totally original in its mingling of extreme sex and sincere spirituality. The bewilderingly large cast of characters all have a role to play in revealing the Truth about humans, angels, demons and nature of reality. In Ms. Mandella’s universe, spiritual power is more than just a phrase. As Max, Gloria, Sylvia and their fellow “brides” develop and grow, their supernatural abilities (including telepathy, telekinesis and the ability to manipulate the flow of time) grow also.

For those of you looking for erotic content, this novel includes so many sex scenes you’ll be gasping for breath. Telepathic orgasms have an intensity that ordinary climaxes can’t match. There’s lots of lesbian activity, but plenty of hetero interactions as well. One message I took away was that the genitals really don’t matter. The best sex is a meeting of kindred spirits.

You can read Heaven’s Brides purely as erotica. What I enjoyed most, though, was the warmth and tolerance that glow on every page. If everyone lived like Max and his brides, the world would be a far better, happier and more humane place.

Someone Else's Shoes

So, I'm still on crutches, seven weeks after breaking my leg in a fall. (I'm hoping the doctor will give me permission to start putting weight on the leg when I see him on Friday!) I've adapted pretty well to this inconvenience around the house, but last week my husband and I attended a three day technical conference at an out-of-town hotel. The experience gave me a fresh appreciation for the obstacles faced by someone with a more permanent disability.

This hotel didn't do too badly in terms of accessibility. It had ramps and even a wheelchair we were able to borrow. There was a tiny but functional elevator leading to the lower level meeting rooms and auditorium. The staff were unfailingly helpful in positioning seating, pulling obstacles out of the way, and so on. I was thrilled to see that our room featured a big shower stall complete with a seat. (I'd been dreading the notion of three days on sponge baths - there's no way I could get in and out of a tub!)

At the same time, many everyday aspects of the conference turned out to be more difficult than I'd expected. All the meals were buffet-based. Let me tell you, there's no way you can walk on crutches while carrying a plate of food! My poor husband had to fetch food for me, and I had to be content with what he chose on my behalf. (I think that I probably lost a pound or two, not the usual when one attends one of these events!)

Another unexpected problem was the bathrooms. All the regular rest rooms in this hotel featured weighted, self-closing doors. I discovered that it's very difficult to pull open a door that provides any resistance without losing your balance! I had to rely on passers-by to open the door for me. Then I had to wait until someone left the restroom in order to exit myself. I could lean my weight on the door from the inside, but once it began to open, I had no way of moving forward without tumbling onto my face. The hotel did have a couple of handicapped rest rooms, but whoever designed them didn't really understand the requirements. Yes, they had wide doors (not self-closing!) and plenty of space, but the bar on the wall next to the toilet was several feet away, far too distant to provide support for sitting down or standing up. I managed, but someone whose quadraceps were weaker than mine might have had serious problems.

Then there were all the electric cables stretched out along the floor, jury-rigged for the conference presentations. As long as I noticed them, I could avoid them, but I lived in fear of letting my mind wander. I had terrible visions of tripping, falling and undoing seven weeks of recuperation! Moisture was even more of a problem. This is a tropical country and we're entering the rainy season. I discovered weeks ago that crutches become perilous when the bottoms are wet.  

To attract higher attendance, the conference took place at a beach resort. Alas, I could gaze at the sea from our balcony (and I did enjoy doing that), but there was no way I could go swimming, even at the pool. Moisture, remember? Not to mention that there was long walk with multiple stairways to get to the pool area, and then even a longer stretch to the beach itself.

I don't intend to complain. I enjoyed the trip. It was a welcome change from the inside of my apartment where I've mostly been cooped up for the past month and a half! However, it was a real eye-opener to sample the experience of disability.

Most of us, I think, if we're able bodied, tend to forget about disabled individuals when they're not around. After this past week, I have new admiration for people who live with this sort of restriction for years. I hope I can remember what it's like - and do what I can to make things easier, including advocating for accessibility. I don't want to forget the lessons I learned walking in someone else's shoes.