Chosen Path: A Memoir

Dennis Michael Quinn helped usher in a new standard of transparency and rigor in which Latter-day Saint and Utah researchers write unapologetically, not to please social, political, or religious leaders, but to strengthen and empower all. Quinn walked the “thin line between courage and rebellion” (366) and believed the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was not inherently oppressive, but he maintained that withholding information and inconvenient truths caused harm. In 1972, still a young man, he wrote: “I hope to live to have the opportunity to thrill the Saints with the awareness of our Church's vitality and tradition and help them to realize the Church is more believable and inspiring when you discard the lying fantasies and propaganda of well-intended mythmakers” (271). That mission would define his life.Chosen Path frames his life as a deeply human story of conviction, sacrifice, and complexity. “I traded the life of personal fulfillment that I wanted to have in a world of risk and vulnerability,” he wrote, “in exchange for the life of service to my family and the LDS Church in a supportive environment” (493). Quinn routinely attracted the spotlight and wrath of LDS leadership.Described by his son as “a memoir of a memoir,” Chosen Path follows a diaristic timeline in which Quinn recounts pivotal moments with reflective care. The editors contributed detailed footnotes that contextualize Quinn's writing. While a few of these notes felt unnecessary, there were also instances that could have benefitted from the context of a footnote. Reading a book by Mike Quinn with such brief footnotes did feel jarring. One could certainly read Chosen Path alongside his other works.The book is structured into twenty digestible chapters—none exceeding forty-eight pages. Earlier drafts were critiqued by Signature Books for lacking introspection; this final version provides the insights readers crave. Quinn's vulnerability offers rare, intimate access into the life of a man who, for most of his life, chose truth-telling over safety and faith over his identity.Beginning with his childhood and family dynamics, Quinn leads readers through his time at BYU, mission in England, and graduate work at the University of Utah and Yale. He details his military service in Germany, marriage, fatherhood, and professorship at BYU after working for Leonard Arrington. Especially striking is Quinn's prescience—from the 1970s on Quinn knew his scholarship would cost him his standing in the LDS church. He recounts the two-decade span in which he anticipated excommunication. With devastating detail, he chronicles both critical and positive reception of his work, leading to ecclesiastical probation and then excommunication in September 1993. Quinn's work drew criticism from Latter-day Saint leadership, and while he was out as gay to everyone by 1993, his failure to comply with disciplinary procedures was officially cited for his excommunication. The memoir ends around 2009, with a brief epilogue summarizing his final years before his death in 2021.Chosen Path is a personal memoir and a historical document. It provides an insider's look at New Mormon History, the inner workings of the Church History Department, and the intellectual and academic culture of BYU in the 1970s and 1980s. Quinn's life was deeply entwined with the controversies of late twentieth-century Mormonism, including those which apostle Boyd K. Packer called “the gay-lesbian movement, the feminist movement, . . . and the ever-present challenge from the so-called scholars and intellectuals” (511).As a historian focused on LGBTQIA+ Utah, I was disappointed that Quinn did not delve more deeply into his landmark work Same-Sex Dynamics Among Nineteenth-Century Americans: A Mormon Example, especially compared to his detailed treatment of his other research topics. That said, Chosen Path remains an essential resource for those interested in Quinn's life and scholarship, but also for current and former LGBTQIA+ Latter-day Saints and allies. Chosen Path can help anyone seeking to understand tensions between faith, identity, and LDS institutional authority.I found myself moved by Quinn's unwavering faith, even as he became alienated from the institution that shaped him. Initially frustrated, the more I read, the more I came to know Quinn as a complex man of faith and science. “Mormon theology,” he writes, “is larger and more embracing than the LDS Church” (494). The revelation that a single LDS apostle spearheaded invasive efforts against him—including surveillance, break-ins, and defamation—makes his continued empathy all the more remarkable.Quinn's memoir allows for a multitude of interpretations, offering insights that will resonate with scholars, seekers, and readers navigating the complex intersections of faith, identity, and historical truth.