The following is excerpted from a review of The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Sexual Abuse by Ellen Bass and Laura Davis, Harper & Row, 1988. This book is called the "Bible of the Recovered Memory Movement." The review is by Robert Sheaffer and is used by permission:

Few books of modern times have resulted in so much harm. Most of us have seen a few outrageous quotes from it like "if you are unable to remember any specific instances like the ones mentioned above but still have a feeling that something abusive happened to you, it probably did" (p. 21), and "demands for proof are unreasonable" (p. 137). There is absolutely no solid research to support the view of "recovered memories" promoted in this book, and a great deal of evidence against it. [Both the American Psychiatric Association (1993), and the Council on Scientific Affairs of the American Medical Association (1994) have warned against relying on the so-called "recovered memories" that are the principal cornerstone of the "survivors" movement.] . . .

The psychology underlying this book is, at best, exceedingly dubious: "The human mind has tremendous powers of repression. Many children are able to forget about the abuse, even as it is happening to them" (p. 42). The authors likewise seem to have no qualms in violating what is known about medicine and physics as well. Among the consequences of sexual abuse is said to be arthritis ("Thirty-seven years of denying my father's sexual abuse has taken a toll: massive deterioration of all my joint tissue" p. 165); migraines and so-called "environmental illness" (p. 213); cancer (p. 366); out-of-body-travel ("you literally leave your body" p. 209); and even ESP ("Other survivors have developed psychic abilities from their sensitivity" p. 46). The reality of widespread "multiple personality disorder" is taken as proven, based on a paper published by the Institute of Noetic Sciences, an organization which promotes belief in ESP, and we are told that "virtually everyone who is diagnosed as being multiple has been severely abused--sexually, physically, or psychologically--as a young child" (p. 424). . . .

But how did The Courage to Heal, this abomination of the intellect, come to have such enormous influence? . . .

THE REAL REASON THAT THE COURAGE TO HEAL HAS ENJOYED SUCH AN ASTONISHING EXEMPTION FROM CRITICAL SCRUTINY FOR SO LONG IS THAT IT HAS SAILED UNDER THE BANNER OF WOMENS STUDIES, THAT MOST SACROSANCT OF CONTEMPORARY SACRED COWS. In many universities, any public opposition to or even criticism of a "womens issue" is career-limiting, sometimes career-ending. This has given feminist writers complete license to promulgate foolish theories, inaccurate statements, even outright falsehoods, with little fear of being compelled to defend anything they say. The consequences to society have been enormous, with the tragedies caused by the "recovered memories" movement being merely the most obvious and visible.

It is not at all surprising that so many women have eagerly embraced the "survivor" role that Davis and Bass hold out to any woman who wants it. To be a "survivor" today is wonderfully empowering. It allows her to demand that her partner "take on extra housekeeping duties" and "do more child care" (p. 330). Should she behave like a raving madwoman, it is her partner's responsibility to appreciate "how fundamental her need for control is" (p. 331). It may enable her to get substantial sums of money, either directly from the supposed "abuser," or from his homeowners insurance: "I have had settlements ranging from $20,000 to $100,000," an attorney for "survivors" reports (p. 309). The "survivor" also gets the right to demand that the supposed "abuser" pay for her therapy (which is a bit like asking a prisoner to dig the grave he is about to be thrown into), and indeed sometimes to support her indefinitely so she doesn't have to work, since "many women find it extremely difficult to do the emotional work necessary for healing while working full-time" (p. 299). Even if your father may be an "abuser," his role as a highly-disciplined "wallet" who is accustomed to paying out on your behalf makes him extremely valuable nonetheless. . . .

Both authors of The Courage to Heal are lesbians. Laura Davis describes an incident where her recovery of "memories" interrupts an intimate scene with her female lover (p. 76-77). . . .

Davis has also contributed a chapter to a book Finding the Lesbians (Penelope & Valentine, eds. Freedom, CA: The Crossing Press), a guide for lesbians on the go. Ellen Bass is more circumspect, but the new edition of I Never Told Anyone describes her as "living in Santa Cruz, California with her partner, Janet." . . .

Bass has also written or edited several volumes of poetry, none of which seems to have gotten much notice outside of feminist circles. A number of Bass' poems deal with the subject of lesbian love. . . .

Upon careful reading, it turns out that a large number of the "survivors" in the book are themselves lesbian. Many are openly so, but concerning others the authors go to some lengths to downplay this; obviously they feared that if the percentage of "survivors" who are lesbian were easily visible, their credibility with heterosexual women, who after all constitute the vast majority, would be undermined. Hence we find the widespread use of gender-neutral terms to describe many womens' sex partners....

The degree of anti-male venom contained in The Courage to Heal is truly astonishing, at least to those unfamiliar with the literature of womens studies. Some examples:

"I have such venomous hate. I pray to God that [my father] comes down with some terrible disease. I'd like him to get AIDS. That or Alzheimer's. I can't wait for his funeral ... this hatred affects me in a positive way" (p. 365).

"I'd watch Perry Mason to get ideas about how to kill my father. It was really the best of times. Every day I would get a new method" (p. 47).

"My experience was that 95 percent of men are abusers" (p. 228)

"As a child ... you could not think about killing your father when you relied on him to feed you" (p. 35).

"If your abuser has died, you may be glad he is dead. This is a perfectly reasonable feeling to have. One woman said she couldn't wait for her father to die so she could spit on his grave" (p. 143).

Most people, during a time of crisis, have traditionally sought solace and comfort in their families, an institution that is grounded in heterosexuality. But THE EFFECT OF THE "RECOVERED MEMORIES" MOVEMENT IS TO DECLARE "FAMILY" TO BE THE PROBLEM, NOT THE SOLUTION. In fact, throughout Courage to Heal what are normally called "families" are termed one's "family of origin," to create the impression that they are temporary and accidental. The so-called "survivor" is encouraged to think of her all-female "support group" as her new family. . . .

We miss the big picture if we imagine The Courage to Heal as some sort of irrational singularity that just happened to have done a lot of harm. For the simple fact is that The Courage to Heal is merely one of a large number of such books for "survivors," and that the "Womens Studies" establishment stands strongly behind the claims of "recovered memories." Few if any books, in the entire canon of "Womens Studies," expresses the slightest degree of doubt in the validity of so-called "recovered memories," or the slightest degree of remorse for the suffering of innocent men falsely accused thereby. Thus we are left with the unsettling realization that the "survivors" movement lies straight in the mainstream of contemporary Womens Studies, a movement with a near-Papal belief in its own infallibility.