Sunday Book Review: Identity Unveiled

This web site normally displays reviews of Christian books on Sundays. (I normally upload them on weekdays and use the scheduling feature.) Identity Unveiled is a Christian book. However, the day when I have Internet access and can communicate with others about this book happens to be a Saturday--the day I usually try to avoid the Internet, given a choice. Oh well. I'm letting this post go live on Saturday. Those who read the Sunday book reviews will, I trust, understand.

Title: Identity Unveiled

Author: Shirene H. Gentry

Date: 2019

Publisher: Library Partners

ISBN: 978-1-61846-0820

Length: 113 e-pages

Illustrations: photos

Quote: “I discovered that the story of my adoption did not match the mountain of evidence set before me.”

Haven’t all children fantasized about discovering that the people with whom they’re living are only a foster family, that their real family might be much more interesting or glamorous or congenial or whatever? In Shirene Gentry’s case, the fantasy seems to have been true. She had an Iranian name because she really was Iranian. She just might have been “an illegitimate daughter of the Shahanshah (king of kings) Mohammad Reza Pahlavi.” 

What happens when the classic adopted-child fantasy can be supported by facts? Would you really want to be related to the Shah, or for that matter to the Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini who replaced him as the head of his country’s government? Many novels have been written about how this line of thought can lead to a deeper appreciation of the families in which people live, whether biological or adoptive.

Identity Unveiled is not a novel. It might have disappointed some readers (it did me, a little bit) by not telling us more about Iran, the Shah, the Pahlavi family. It’s realistic. Even if the Shah hadn’t been deposed, no title, no estate, and probably no royal welcome would have been forthcoming if Gentry had done anything to spoil the official story that nothing was known about her family. Many “illegitimate” relatives find themselves unwelcome in their rich families’ homes.

There are people who just go and introduce themselves to their biological relatives whether they’re welcome or not. Everyone knew that one of my father’s friends had been in Japan during the War. His stories were all about Japan, but he had been in other places too. One day a younger man came to his house and said, “My name is (whatever), the son of (whatever), whom you loved and left in Ireland during the War.” My parents chortled at the thought of what-all Dad’s friend and his wife must have resisted the urge to say, but apparently what they did say was, “Do come in, sit down, and tell us about your mother and you.” In the United States, such a reception is not unusual for an “illegitimate” relative. In countries like the Ayatollahs’ Iran, where serious efforts are made to punish sexual irregularities, a warm reception for a long-lost “illegitimate” relative is harder to imagine.

After reviewing the evidence she presents in the main part of this book, Gentry says in the first few paragraphs, she concluded that it didn’t really matter how she was related to a man who’d been called “king of kings.” As a Christian she was a daughter of The King of kings, in any case.

This is a Christian book. The story of Gentry’s adoptive family and her life with them is punctuated by invitations to readers to reflect, react, and share stories of how they may have learned life lessons similar to the ones she discusses: identity and self-esteem, pain and grief, practicing the Presence of God. Old-style lists of rules like “no shopping on Sundays” have been replaced in most churches today by milder-looking prompts to discuss our own unhealthy choices and behavior as reflections of our spiritual misunderstanding...

(I’m not sure this has been a change for the better. What I saw in churches that tried to offer sugar-coated enticement to choose more self-affirming behavior was that sincere, devout Christians who had no trouble with the older rules were being continually tormented about their human imperfections and even blamed for being introverts, while hierarchy-loving extroverts sought to solidify their positions of dominance by claiming that everything they did was loving and self-affirming; if that wasn’t how other people experienced their presence, that was entirely those other people’s fault, and likely it was repressed memories of child abuse by a beloved parent that kept others from seeing how wise and virtuous and righteous these people’s bossy, manipulative behavior really was. Disciplines like not shopping on Sunday may be healthy and self-affirming or may become sources of unnecessary conflict and guilt, but at least they allowed everyone in a church group to affirm that the less aggressive people in the group were doing something right.)

Addressed to church women’s groups, this book ends with invitations to readers to share their own testimonies and affirmations of faith in God.

Church groups could easily use this very relatable story about the identity and family life of a "long-lost princess" as a way to get people to share, reflect on, and learn positive lessons from their own individual identities. Christians who have not found fellowship in churches could read it as a guide to writing our own testimonies. This is not a very scholarly book but it offers enlightenment to those who will receive enlightenment.