Hijab Butch Blues

by Lamya H.

When Lamya is fourteen, she decides to disappear.

It seems easier to ease herself out of sight than to grapple with the difficulty of taking shape in a world that doesn't fit. She is a queer teenager growing up in a Muslim household, a South Asian in a Middle Eastern country. But during her Quran class, she reads a passage about Maryam, and suddenly everything shifts: if Maryam was never touched by any man, could Maryam be... like Lamya?

Written with deep intelligence and a fierce humour, Hijab Butch Blues follows Lamya as she travels to the United States, as she comes out, and as she navigates the complexities of the immigration system - and the queer dating scene. At each step, she turns to her faith to make sense of her life, weaving stories from the Quran together with her own experiences: Musa leading his people to freedom; Allah, who is neither male nor female; and Nuh, who built an ark, just as Lamya is finally able to become the architect of her own story.

Raw and unflinching, Hijab Butch Blues heralds the arrival of a truly original voice, asking powerful questions about gender and sexuality, relationships, identity and faith, and what it means to build a life of one's own.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Queer, LGBT, Audiobook, Religion, Feminism

304 pages, Hardcover

First published February 7, 2023

Reviews

[Roxane · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was beautifully written and deeply introspective. A memoir about a Muslim woman who is butch and grappling with family, displacement, migration, sexuality, and finding her communities. I articulately enjoyed the parallels she drew between her faith and stories from the Quran to her own life. The writing is quite poignant and powerful. The self-examination is pointed and moving. Excellent memoir.

[Ayesha the Great 🍉 (Barbie's Version) · Rating 1 out of 5]

Taking down my review of this because it's honestly frustrating how many of you in the comments are trying to teach me the basics of my own religion.
I don't hate the author for being part of the LGBT community-that's her thing, it's not my business. It was the weird enforcement of gender identity and lesbianism and all that onto gods and religious figures that didn't sit well with me.
And yes, coming out-to anyone, not just your mom- is a very big and very scary thing, but it's not on the same level as a Prophet liberating his people from a tyrant. Look, if you guys can get mad at vegans for comparing barbecue to the Holocaust, then I think I have the right to be mad about this as well. Especially considering there's a mass genocide going on in the world right now, and the terrorist group is trying to gain people's support by hiding behind the pride flags and saying that they are accepting of all groups when even the biological genders of the Muslims they're killing aren't safe. (Apparently Glitchreads is taking down accounts that mention their names).

Of course, your interpretation of a book, such as her interpretation of the Quran, is entirely your own, but please, maybe lets not publicly make disrespectful comments about religion, even if its unintentional.

And stop trying to mansplain my own faith to me.

[CaseyTheCanadianLesbrarian · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow wow wow what a great book. I was swept up in Lamya's story and their smart and compassionate writing right away. Although this is a memoir, it's structured thematically by Isamic prophets and moves around somewhat in time. Lamya intertwines personal history and journeys with her interpretations of the prophets' stories in the Quran. Every chapter surprised and moved me by the unexpected ways in which the Quranic story was connected to the author's. This is a new classic of queer literature, just like its allusive title implies. It is really exciting that in the past five years that brilliant queer Muslim writing like this is getting the platforms and attention it deserves. Recommended in audiobook format!

[Nora · Rating 5 out of 5]

I got a netgalley arc of this and starting it i was terrified of it being blasphemous because? I, too, am Muslim. But honestly going through it i could see how deeply the author felt about everything, i don't generally like reading memoirs but having quran stories recited back to me, stories i grew up with, but with a newer perspective, it was honestly a lovely experience. this is definitely a yes from me, it tackles Islamophobia, homophobia and alot of things in between. Truly a breath of fresh air please do read it if you can.

[Thomas · Rating 3 out of 5]

I felt like I agreed with and appreciated a lot of the ideas presented in this memoir, though I didn’t find myself immersed in it. Lamya H does a great job of writing about the intersection of her queerness with her Muslim and immigrant identities. I liked her honesty in unpacking and then moving forward from her earlier internalized racism and internalized homophobia. I think she is able to point out her family’s homophobia without playing into tired narratives of people in the United States being superior for their “progressiveness.” She holds the complexity of her love for her family and her religion alongside her queerness. I also enjoyed her self-insight about her difficulty trusting people and learning about how to pick her fights related to social justice while maintaining her mental health.

Unfortunately I just found Lamya H’s writing style a bit tedious. The memoir felt formulaic to me: here’s this issue, here’s how I resolved it, here’s another issue, here’s how I resolved it. I felt happy for her growth, though bored by the format in which it presented itself in the memoir. I also found the romance arc a tad amatonormative for my taste, though I’m glad she also found queer Muslim community. The writing lacked that extra punch for me though I wouldn’t not recommend this memoir if someone felt intrigued by its synopsis.

[Ayesha Mashiat · Rating 1 out of 5]

How dare you write something like that about Maryam (As.)? I hope Allah gives you guidance and this book of yours is taken down. No offense but this book is very misleading.


Since so many alphabet mafia folks don't like that their favorite Muslim distortion book is one starred, here's a simple explanation why. Homosexuality has no official place in Islam. You may not like that fact, that doesn't concern Allah one bit. If you're homosexual keep a lid on those feelings and don't let them out like that.

[Fatimah · Rating 1 out of 5]

*Reposting on a diff acc*

This book is not written by a Muslim, and if it is, may Allah forgive them. This book is a total and absolute shattered portrayal of Islam, if you are non-muslim, then know that this book should not even be on Goodreads. This is a violation of Islam and everything that it has to do with.

Allah, the lord of the universe, is not a NON-BINARY. Allah is not limited by something that HUMANS made up- in Islam, if you are MUSLIM- like the author APPARENTLY is- then you KNOW that Allah has no human aspects- he cannot be confined by time, space, and such things. Meaning he cannot be NON BINARY because that is a random term that HIS creation made up to explain something random-
and the LGBT community can calm down because I am not attacking them, I am explaining our religion, and how this book is a complete misrepresentation of it, and how if they want to talk about rights, talk about how this book is destroying ours. Because nobody should be misrepresented and should have their voice taken a way by a misleading book.

It is the first hijabi book on Goodreads with a five star rating, and what a shame that the author, whom you all seem to love, has just disrespected a whole religion, a whole teaching, and a whole nation, whilst claiming to be part of it. This book disrespects not only Islam, but Christianity as well! For in Islam, we believe in Mary, and in Jesus! Nuh is Arabic for Noah, Musa is Arabic for Moses, Maryam is just the Arabic way of saying Mary. So they are saying Mary (peace be upon her), "could be like the main character". So not only is this book violating ONE religion, but it violates TWO! Everyone celebrates this as well, yet when some sect of people expressing themselves get just a little bit insulted, they get backed up by the world. But the truth comes out, and you cannot hide the light.

This book, should not be supported by Muslims, atheists, Christians, Jews, Hindus, or any such people. Because if some group of people get disrespected and misrepresented, I feel it is the duty of the rest to keep their honour and to stand against the disrespect, the mockery, that the people are faced with. This book not only mocks Islam, but it attempts to humiliate it.

But wallah, you cannot put down the religion of Allah.

May God guide us all and forgive us. Ameen.

[Traci Thomas · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is really really good. Memoir on essays. Great writing really smart structure to weave scripture with life. I love Lamya’s feminist activist translations and interpretations of characters from the Quran. The effortless writing about intersectionality which often reads clunky. So so good. I think this will be one folks talk about all year.

[Elizabeth (Plant Based Bride) · Rating 3 out of 5]

While I see the value in a book like this—a memoir that shows Lamya's fellow queer Muslims it is possible to find balance and peace in a life that others might deem contradictory—I did wish the author had gone a little further in their exploration of what it means to be both a nonbinary lesbian and a Muslim. At times, it felt as though Lamya was holding herself at a distance, and the writing had a clinical and somewhat reserved tone. This may have been an intentional choice, both to protect Lamya's anonymity and to focus on broader themes rather than deeply personal introspection. While I understand and respect this approach, I think a deeper dive into some aspects of Lamya's identity and experiences could have enhanced the memoir's emotional impact.

The structure—moving between conflicts in Lamya's personal life, stories from the Quran that relate (either directly or tangentially), and lessons applied to their life—was effective in many ways but felt somewhat repetitive. Additionally, the non-linear timeline, while reflective of memory’s natural flow, made it a little challenging to follow Lamya's journey in a cohesive way.

This is Lamya's very personal story, and I’m glad they were able to tell it. I hope many young queer Muslims feel seen by it and find comfort in its pages. As a queer atheist, I bring a different perspective to this book. I’ve experienced and witnessed the effects of religious trauma, and I hoped to gain a deeper understanding of how faith and queerness coexist for someone like Lamya. I was curious about what makes Lamya so steadfast in her faith and how they navigate the intersection of religion and identity. Questions like why they chose to wear the hijab as a nonbinary person or how she reconciled moments of potential doubt would have been fascinating to explore further. These are deeply personal topics, and I don’t expect Lamya to answer them for my benefit. Still, as someone reading from a different cultural and spiritual perspective, I found myself wanting to understand more about these aspects of their life.

That said, Lamya makes it clear near the end of the memoir that their purpose was twofold: to provide hope and representation for queer Muslims and to foster greater understanding of Islam among those outside the faith. In my view, this memoir succeeds especially well in its first aim, offering a light to those within Lamya's community. While I might have wished for more exploration of certain themes to help readers like me engage with the second aim, I respect that this memoir is first and foremost a deeply personal offering.

I hope Hijab Butch Blues continues to reach its audience and contributes, in its own way, to a more inclusive and compassionate world for queer Muslims, both within and outside of Islam.


Trigger/Content Warnings: (graphic descriptions of) self-harm, suicidal ideation, domestic abuse, child abuse, islamophobia, racism, xenophobia, religious bigotry, misogyny, homophobia (specifically lesbophobia, biphobia, and transphobia), (risk/threat of) deportation, classism


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[BookOfCinz · Rating 4 out of 5]

An intimate, engaging and beautiful memoir.

This is really an unforgettable memoir that is full of heart, well written and teaches you so much about life. I think the author did a brilliant job of taking us into their world and I enjoyed every bit of it.
I heard learnt so much reading this memoir and I think that is what I liked most.

[sigh · Rating 2 out of 5]

While I appreciate the queer Muslim representation and that this story exists in the world, I was ultimately disappointed by the delivery. It’s competent writing, sure, and I do like the use of stories from the Quran to contextualize the narrator’s life, feelings, queerness, self discovery, etc, but the writing is also somewhat tedious and boring, and many of the chapters end on condescending “wrap ups” that tell me what the takeaway from that chapter should be. Many of the realizations and discoveries feel juvenile as well and lack sophistication. Also, I had high expectations for this book to deeply explore butch identity as a queer Muslim, given that the title is a head nod to Stone Butch Blues, but instead it feels like it was just a convenient title to use that would intrigue and attract queer readers and fans of Stone Butch. I don’t know, I had high hopes for this book and it seemed sort of first drafty and ultimately, forgettable, which I hate to say.

[rara ➶ · Rating 1 out of 5]

wish i could give it 0 stars

[Zaina · Rating 1 out of 5]

Can I ask what was going through the author's book when she wrote this? Because the blurb alone has left me disgusted. This book is blatant disrespect to Islam and God and all the Prophets. How dare someone compare God to any mortal concept? How dare someone disrespect Maryam A.S. like that? Because she says she has not been touched by a man, that means shes lesbian? How on earth those that make sense when the context is that shes PRGNENT? This author is using the Prophets and Mayram A.S. to justify her sins and make herself feel better and she is disrespecting her religion and everything is stands for.

May Allah forgive her and guide her and not let anyone else be led astray because of her and this piece of trash. Ameen.

[Kemunto Books · Rating 4 out of 5]

I got to learn a ton about Islam. The 'stories' are similar to the ones I read in the bible as a kid, but somehow felt more authentic... even the names. My favourite part is how Lamya draws parallels between The Quran and her own life. It's a heartwarming thing a lot of religious people do, and what sucks is that there's people who are mad that she would do this. Everyone does it, why shouldn't she? If I had read this any sooner, I would have voted for it in the goodreads choice awards... Lamya's heart is pure, she's brave, her writing's well done. Highly recommend.

[qamar⋆｡°✩ · Rating 5 out of 5]

oh god, i loved this so much.

growing up as a trans and lesbian muslim south asian, i didn't expect for someone with identities and a story so similar to mine to be told. but here it is, in my hands. here it is, the struggles that i can recognise so clearly before i can even finish a sentence, my eyes welling with barely-restrained tears. here it is, the confusion, the anguish, the realisations, the anger, and also the deep-rooted love. it felt so liberating to just read about the author growing into her identity, finding a whole community of muslims, queer muslims, who love them back. and the parallels with the stories of the quran to her own experiences with transness and queerness again felt so personal. as a trans and queer person who also feels deeply about faith, this memoir felt like a safe space. the way that the author recounts the stories from the quran was also something so captivating- these are stories that i have heard in my own muslim household so many times and yet i still read each word with care because of the intimate tenderness and admiration with which the author narrates these stories; it is amply clear that they have a very deep attachment to islam. she is angry, she is political, she is loving. they have such touching insights on themselves and everything and everyone around them, all rendered in such moving prose.

i have heard criticisms from some muslims about the specifics of how the author interprets some of the stories when they draw the parallels to their own life, but honestly? they are only personally interpreting the stories in the quran as they have a right to, in order to understand themselves and those around them more, so that they can ultimately love more. and is that not what god would want us to do? to love others and ourselves through islam? besides, these interpretations are only of a source material that is cryptic and has been subjected to various patriarchal and heteronormative interpretations anyway. what this author is doing - both viewing the verses with an open mind and learning to love and live through these verses - is, in my opinion, revolutionary. i wish more people would utilise religion this way, the way it was originally intended to be like.

i feel very incoherent and rambly right now so i will end with this: i cannot recommend this book enough. definitely already one of my favourite books of all time.

a last note: i felt so much closer to my faith after this book. thank you so much for this lamya h., thank you for rejuvenating my faith in god, in love, and in community. thank you for letting us have this intimate peek into your life, to let us see you existing so wonderfully as a queer and trans muslim. thank you.

[J. (Better Off Read) · Rating 5 out of 5]

It turns out 2023 has been the year of the memoir for my reading list so far. I didn't set out to do that intentionally, but I think I'm up to around 11-ish and most have been wonderful.

With that said, this memoir stands out for me as one I know I'll be thinking about for a long time to come. I devoured this book, while simultaneously trying to savor it. It was just so good I couldn't help myself, like when someone gives you a favorite treat as a kid and you try to make it last, but you fail miserably.

The title is a nod to Stone Butch Blues, and like that novel I think this book will go down as a classic, especially in the gender and sexuality nonfiction realm. Lamya H. (a pseudonym the author took on for her own safety and well-being) opens up about her gender and sexuality journey, relating it back to her religious beliefs and relationship with her family and friends. The writing is flawless, and I can't convey how invested I was in her journey throughout the book.This is a must-read for sure!

[Ciarrah, MHA · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book is everything that is wrong with my LGB "community."

The toxic masculine subject matter: no man has touched this woman, so OF COURSE she's a lesbian! Spoken like a heteronormative, male-identified person.

Coming out of the closet being compared to the Exodus is just cringe.

Placing human flaws on a supernatural being such as God is.. well. Bless her lil heart. We do the best our mere mortal minds can do, I guess.

[K · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 rounded up. This is a very nice memoir weaving in the author's interpersonal stories and connecting it to different elements of the Quran. However it didn't really hit as hard as I was expecting, and I found myself a little less connected than I would have liked. A big distraction for me is actually the title of this book. Stone Butch Blues was like the book of a gay generation, and the author had a lot to live up to if connecting their story with that book. But there was no connection at all really so it honestly just felt like a marketing gimmick that took away from the book.

[Dana Salman · Rating 1 out of 5]

Normally I would never rate or write a review for a book I've never read, but I am just... outraged. Disgusted. Horrified. A book like this shouldn't exist, much less be rated so high. Humanity has seriously fallen and we are in the end-times. I don't care if "queer Muslims exist", their deviant tendencies and blasphemous beliefs should NOT be "represented" or encouraged! But of course, the Western world only cares about Muslim representation if it's the kind of Muslims that are like THEM - no one wants to read about "homophobic" Muslims (even though it is part of the Islam religion to be against homosexuality!), because the fickle morals of today's world dictate that not showing 110% support for the rainbow community is eViL and bIgOtED.
Is it not bad enough that the non-Muslim world falls further and further into depravity and is trying to poison their own children and future generations through Western media? We Muslims have to be exposed to this nonsense too? Homosexual acts are SINFUL, period. There are only male and female genders, PERIOD. Allah SWT is referred to as HE because He is the Greatest and Most Merciful Creator; to refer to Him as "them" degrades His existence, makes Him feel alien rather than close to our hearts and compassionate, and besides all that, "they" is PLURAL not singular - there is only ONE God.
I feel sorry for this author that her parents either did not raise her right or that her exposure to the modern age's "progressive ideas" caused her to stray so far from the deen. Astaghfirallah...

[Leigh Kramer · Rating 5 out of 5]

An insightful memoir-in-essays by a queer nonbinary (she/they) Muslim author, which pairs stories from the Quran with stories about their life. This truly exceeded all expectations. Lamya touches on immigration, Islamaphobia, racism, homophobia, and more as she finds hope in a religious text while needing to remain closeted to much of their community, including their family. Their devoutness happens *because* of their identity, not in spite of it. It’s a nuanced, powerful view of religion. Not only that, Lamya is a talented writer. I’ll be thinking about this memoir for some time to come. Highly recommended for anyone who enjoys memoirs that grapple with faith/religion.

Many thanks to The Stacks Podcast for putting this on my radar!


Content notes: suicidal ideation (including fantasizing about cutting), cousin who died by suicide, suicide stigma in Islam, intimate partner violence (cousin, friends), abuser apologism by author's mother (countered), divorce stigma, homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, Islamaphobia, xenophobia, racism, racial slur, internalized racism, colorism, racial profiling, microaggressions, religious abuse (not author), colonialism, immigration, sexism, purity culture, enslaved religious figure, pregnancy and infertility in the Quran, alcohol (not author), inebriation (partner’s uncle), ableist language, mention of cousin dealing with infertility

[Naomi · Rating 5 out of 5]

are you kidding me?????? this is perhaps the best memoir i've ever read. i literally JUST finished this book and had to write down my feelings. i am teary and just blown away. i'm about to be so corny cuz i'm so emotionally raw—heads up!!! this book is a great example of how powerful reading and writing and storytelling can be. i am as agnostic as it gets but this was such a wonderful expression of religion. it's deeply introspective and nuanced and i feel like a better person after reading it. who else has read this?! let's talk!!!!!

[Hannah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Being queer on top of being an immigrant on top of being Asian on top of being a woman - that’s been a difficult journey. Each identity is always complex, but altogether, it’s a tightly tangled giant ball of yarn. So while I couldn’t completely identify with her, given I’m an atheist, I could understand a lot of what she talked about from my perspective, and it felt like she might understand me too, which is why I loved this book.

[Kristy · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 Stars

One of the reasons I love reading memoirs is to learn about other’s life experiences and culture. That was certainly the case here. This was a brave and at times informative memoir that gave a solid glimpse into the life of a queer Muslim woman who found her identity lied in not one but many things.

[Kelley · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’m a practicing Muslim. And as such I love to talk to other practicing Muslims and hear about their relationship to God. I loved this book because this woman obviously loves God. And she’s struggling or has struggled to find her identity and her comfort place to get through life worshiping God and understanding and living with her sexual preferences.

A lot of Muslim leaders lately have come to speak out against what they see as the “gay agenda” undermining their freedom of religion. Every such Muslim NEEDS to read books like this and engage with LGBT identifying Muslims and Muslims who have have same sex attraction. I’m not demanding redefinition of theology or throwing out Hadith or Quran. I’m just saying that if there are people who say they believe as Muslims but they also are queer or have ssa, Muslim leaders MUST include them as part of the ummah. We can’t just say no that’s not Islam and move on. These are Muslims. These people are already in our ummah. They are brothers and sisters and we have to treat them as such. Not like they are problem that is challenging our own realities. It’s been far too long that we treat lgbtq and ssa afflicted Muslims as if they aren’t really Muslims. So you cannot blame them when they come up with their own understanding of the religion because they want to feel close to God.

This book was very well written. I have heard of many people say they want to write narrative nonfiction versions of seerah or prophet stories. Lamya has done that here. It’s lovely. Some of it conflicts with what I know to be true of the Quranic stories (for example as I am aware, Asiyah was murdered by Pharaoh). But I have no problem with Lamya imagining that Maryam might have been like her (lesbian/queer or even asexual) or referring to Allah with “her” while still realizing Allah is beyond gender. Some reviewers have recoiled at these writings. But no where does Lamya say these things are the truth that other Muslims should accept. These are thoughts she had that drew her closer to Islam.

We can’t keep insisting on interpretations and practices of Islam that push people away from faith and the mosques and then be surprised when they come up with their own ideas. This is the height or arrogance. Additionally many of the things that Muslims cling to are not even grounded in the important tenets of Islam. Some are culture. Some are legal interpretations that vary by school of thought and country.

Learning Islam means learning about each other, accepting each other and all working together to strive for what God loves.

[Jessica Woodbury]

Wait, I thought to myself when I was around halfway through this book, I think my religious trauma is kicking in. The book really hit me in the gut in a way I absolutely did not anticipate.

Fun to find a new trigger, I guess. Weirdly it isn't all about my own queer identity. Instead it was the way Lamya tells her stories through the stories of prophets of scripture. This is something I used to be so good at, interpreting their stories, finding pieces of insight, ways to "apply it to my own life," as we so often said back in my religious days. Unfortunately instead of being able to enjoy her experience of it, it just made me viscerally uncomfortable. It was too familiar, tied to an old set of habits that don't feel good anymore.

With all that it's hard for me to say anything about what the book is and how it will feel for people because my experience was so unusual and personal. I hesitate to even put it here but on the off chance someone else runs into the same thing, well.

[Sucre · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5

I'm sad to give this such a low rating, but it's a work that feels ultimately rather shallow in its exploration of queerness and the Muslim faith. from explaining sections of the Quran in an almost youth-pastor-like tone to the author's tenuous connections of the passages to their own life, this book feels like it needed a serious overhaul in tone and content in order to match the high praise given in its blurb.

I was really looking forward to this, but feel like the title does it a great disservice; the authors butch identity is not discussed in this outside of a few mentions of their clothing, and gender identity is also not delved into in any meaningful way. if you're going to use "stone butch blues" as inspiration for your title, I expect there to be similar discussions happening and there simply wasn't any of that going on.

it also feels like the reader is kept at arms length from the author at all times which is an odd tone to have in a memoir. the jumps in time didn't help with this feeling, instead leaving me confused as to how the author came to certain conclusions about themself or their feelings about their faith. so many important things are glossed over, so many years skipped where I'm forced to assume nothing happened in their life, and instead we are spoon-fed weak story conclusions at the end of each chapter.

the best parts of this are when the author is discussing the racism they face in their life in America, particularly the trials of their visa process and being awarded their green card. otherwise it often feels like the author knows all the right buzzwords but refuses to dive into the thorny topics at the root of many of the Quran stories they share (the Asiyah chapter in particular felt shallow, with the author not confronting the Quran itself or going in depth about the misogyny of the tale).

maybe I went into this with the wrong expectations, but the vagueness and weak writing style really wore on me early on and never let up.

[Bethany (Beautifully Bookish Bethany) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hijab Butch Blues is a thoughtful memoir about a journey to reconcile the authors spirituality and sexuality, while navigating the complexities of Islamophobia and gender identity. Lamya is a devout Muslim with a family that lives in the Middle East and does not accept queerness. She is also a non-binary lesbian who loves her family and culture and wants to maintain a relationship with them. So that's difficult. The memoir follows her childhood, queer awakening, struggles with dating, finding a long-term partnership, and navigating Islamophobic assumptions and stereotypes after moving to New York.

But woven into the narrative are stories and excerpts from the Quran that the author reframes from a queer perspective. As someone who grew up Evangelical Christian and came out at bisexual in my 30's, this was a really fascinating read. A lot of the stories are similar to things I grew up reading in the Bible, but not entirely. But I respect how she finds such strength in her faith and shares a different perspective on the meaning of key figures and narratives within her religious text. That can be hard to do and I think it's important to have representation like this out there. Definitely worth a read.

[Sarah-Hope · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lamya H.'s Hijab Butch Blues is flat out one of the best books I've ever read both in terms of content and the quality of its prose. Lamya H., born in south Asia, raised on the Arabian Peninsula, and now living as an immigrant in the U.S., writes under a pseudonym and leaves locations vague to preserve her anonymity, safety, and family connections. Why? Because as a devout Muslim, a lesbian, and an immigrant she's acutely aware of her tenuous state and aware of the lack of spaces where she can simultaneously exercise her faith and live as her true self.

To those coming from other, less tenuous situations, her need for anonymity may sound exaggerated—but for those who share her experiences and those willing to embrace the truths of her own life as she explains them, her concerns are well-founded. Her prose is both precise and beautiful. She challenges herself with her own thinking every bit as much as she does her readers.

What makes this book so remarkable is Lamya's integrity both as a Muslim trying to create a lens that allows her to see her faith broadly and affirmingly and as a scholar and political thinker aware of the ways colonialism and hierarchies of color shape our world.

The memoir swings, pendulum-like, between her own story and her reflections on the stories at the heart of Islam, stories that shape her understanding of what it means (or can mean) to be female and Muslim. This pairing of personal and theological truths is powerful and respectful of both individual and cultural identity.

If this description makes you think that Hijab Butch Blues will speak to you in remarkable ways, you're right. If this description makes you think that her story may have little to teach you, you're wrong. The carefully documented specifics of her life are what make this book universally essential reading. I'm urging you, if possible, to purchase a copy of this book. Publishers need to see that this is a topic and presentation valued to a wide range of readers. If you can't purchase it, request it now at your local library. We need a world of literature that is as broad as the world in which literature is written.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own.

[Maia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lamya H weaves together memoir with stories from the Quran, introspection on prophets, myths, histories, and alternate readings, into a compelling whole. As a gender-nonconforming baby queer, Lamya struggled under the oppressive roles and limited options available to them in the Arab speaking country to which their parents moved for work in their childhood. But a lightning strike of realization in a Quran study class- that Maryam could also be read as a depressed lesbian- fed Lamya's imagination with new possibility. Lamya moved to the United States for college and grad school, navigating new friendships with other liberal Muslims and new prejudices against brown bodies, especially bodies wearing hijab. One compelling chapter outlines the nightmare of bureaucratic hoops that need to be jumped through to renew student and work visas; the author compares choosing to stay in the US to staying in an abusive relationship. But Lamya fell for New York City, and for the family, chosen, queer, and blood, that they collected over the years. I really appreciated this book for offering a perspective I'd never read before, and for its fierce insistence that one can absolutely be both Muslim and queer.

[danielle · Rating 5 out of 5]

full review to come but WOW i love love love this book, including when (honestly especially when) i felt extremely called out by the author as they described queer indispensability,,,,,,,

full profesh review: What an incredible work of art. This book is written by a queer person, for queer people. It made me feel seen, it made me feel loved, it made me cry and bookmark every other page to talk about in therapy, to remind myself I’m not alone, to show to my loved ones that someone else gets it. I cannot overstate just how remarkable this book is.