An intimate and illuminating account of queer lives and migration, homemaking and community in the Gulf, from a brilliant new voice in narrative non-fiction'An eye-opening tour de force... an important and necessary contribution to queer literature and an essential one.' Alex EspinozaUpon moving to the Gulf States – where penalties for queer acts include deportation, imprisonment, torture and death – Gaar Adams wants to understand why LGBTQ+ migrants might choose to live amid such peril. From the UAE to Bahrain and Oman to Saudi Arabia – a region where four out of five residents are noncitizens – he begins riskily gathering interviews outside the tightly controlled state media, leading with what he thinks is a simple it harder for you to make a life here?But as unforgettable residents share a kaleidoscope of stories – from uproarious Filipino salon workers throwing secret drag parties to a courageous Pakistani farmhand helping his compatriots smuggle themselves across borders – cracks emerge in the framing of his enquiry, revealing disquieting assumptions about the motivations, places and identities of others.As Gaar begins his own clandestine queer relationship, fault lines and deeper questions begin to about what we perpetuate and refuse to examine, and how we balance opportunity, risk, subversion and assimilation.Weaving revealing memoir with unprecedented reportage, Guest Privileges is a decade-long journey of dislocation not just through the Gulf States – one of the most maligned and misunderstood regions in the world – but into the very nature of home, belonging and how we form a life and community.
An interesting mix of personal account and reportage from Gaar Adams, based on his time living in the UAE. Adams talks to a range of LGBTQ+ migrants who have found their way to the Gulf, mostly in the UAE but also in other states in that area. Indeed, he lays bare the process of this becoming a book, as initially his conversations are more explorations of the people he comes across while navigating being a migrant himself, a white American one, something which gives his access, opportunities and privilege the others don't. Also, a tonne of preconceptions. This is definitely a book about a white cis American guy learning about the world.
As someone who doesn't know the Gulf at all, and doesn't plan to go there (as a lesbian with a gift for getting sunburned) I found a lot of interest in this book. Adams' autobiographical approach is actually pretty helpful here as he's not interested in making himself look good. There's an engaging process of learning along with him, sometimes sharing in social faux pas or instances where his naivety leads him to look a fool in front of his subjects. I appreciated his honesty and it added to the tone of thoughtfulness.
The subjects bring a wealth of different experiences. From rich married Saudi businessmen with side relationships their families don't know about to the Filipino covers bands to the Sri Lankan parkour lesbian (oh, how I swoon for the Sri Lankan parkour lesbian), the unstructured gathering of these stories lends the book a vivid edge. This isn't even an attempt at representing all queer lives in the Gulf because how would one go about finding them all. Instead, it's an organic journey with unexpected destinations. It bears out its premise that you have to live in a place, actually live and engage, to see what's there. A much appreciated insight.
Reading the book took me forever. I kept getting pulled by the beautiful storytelling, how queerness can be met unexpectedly in a barber shop, and I loved following Adams in queer migrant communities in the Gulf.
However, I was as strongly being pushed out by how much simple stuff was blown out of proportion, in a very "checking my privilege" way that felt performative. For instance, the author can't just get married to have an easier immigration experience, he has to write lines and lines on how it's a heteronormative institution that he still finds ways to queer (bored already).
The book tries to deconstruct clichés, meaning it references over and over very stupid/boring ideas instead of giving room to more interesting and complex stories (did you know that some migrants can be oppressed and do morally questionable things? Or that two men may have sex even though there's a power dynamic between them, and they're both married to women? Isn't it groundbreaking?)
The parts that were good were really good, but I wanted more.
4.75/5! Well written and very enjoyable book about queerness & migration in the gulf states. A must for those who want to delve deeper into the lives of outsiders in one of the most maligned & misunderstood regions in the world. Superb
There is no doubt that the author writes well and has interesting stories of LGBT+ lives in the Middle East. However these strengths are undermined by the warped politics of the author. He goes out of his way to avoid describing himself as a gay man and talks of queerdom all the time. Its almost like he is ashamed of being a Gay Man. He fails to recognise that Gay Mens experiences though sharing some experiences with Lesbians and Trans people have also very strong differences. He then makes huge intellectual leaps such as stating that going cruising for annonymous casual sex is a political act. There is nothing wrong with such acts but to describe it as a political act is plainly nonsense. The political act is to defend the right of gay men to go cruising. Going cruising is a hedonistic act that satisfies the libido. He suggests that it is a gay man's duty to cruise. Interestingly he does not make the same demands of lesbians. Such thinking reminds me of the 1980s when a minority of gay activists demanded that calls for safe sex were ignored as they were being made by straight people trying to impose a hetero normal. These arguments were debunked excellently in the writings of Larry Kramer the HIV and Gay Rights activist at the time. The other aspect of the book I found deeply disturbing is his rubbishing of his first boy friend, a guy who flew to a foreign country to be with the author who is ignored when he gets there. His life is then critised cruelly even to the extent of fat shaming hm in the pages of this book. This is not queer behaviour. Queer people recognise the importance of respect to previous relationships where there has been no abuse. Indeed there was only neglect in the relationship described and that was by the author.
Partly my fault for seeing this book as a study of queerness in the gulf rather than just a memoir. Buuuuut this book was self aware to the point of nauseam, it was so apologetic about being white and American that it became exhausting. I understand the complexities of migration when you are in a position of privilege, and whenever I have tried to write about my families migration to India it is extremely difficult not to fall into colonial guilt etc etc which is to a certain point necessary, but I feel like there isn’t much substance underneath this internal shame in this text. Most significantly, you don’t get a sense of what drew him to the gulf !! You never get to see why despite the barriers Adams spent so much time here, and why apart from economic motives others do. I think this book is trying to be lots of things at once and not doing so very successfully. Also I saw this comment and I agreed with it- cruising in itself is not an inherently emancipatory activity. Particularly when you have a partner you are neglecting at home in bed. Absolutely the right to cruise and experience that should be defended to no end, but the act in itself to suggest it’s all queerness is is laughable
Adams challenges westernised media led ideas of the gulf, and queer life within these rigid homophobic legal systems. Through lived experiences and the people he encountered, Adams impressed on me the thought of radical queerness in just existing. And though this book contains sexual themes and cruising and that. I found it kind of sagaciously toes the line between provocatively exploring themes of sexual freedom and experiences in the gulf while respectfully glossing over the actual acts themselves. Thought it was a good thought provoking read and appreciate how Adams checks his own privilege throughout.
Guest Privileges: Queer Lives and Finding Home in the Middle East – A Groundbreaking Exploration of Belonging in the Shadows Rating: 4.9/5
Gaar Adams’ Guest Privileges is a revelatory work of narrative nonfiction that crackles with urgency, tenderness, and intellectual rigor. As someone drawn to stories of queer resilience but wary of Western-centric perspectives, this book shattered my assumptions—leaving me awestruck by its nuance and humbled by its emotional depth.
Why This Book Is Essential Adams masterfully threads memoir, journalism, and cultural critique into a tapestry of clandestine queer existence in the Gulf States. His decade-long immersion—from UAE drag parties held under threat of arrest to Pakistani migrant smuggling networks—exposes the paradoxes of building community where visibility equals danger. The chapter interrogating his own privileged framing (“Is it harder for you to make a life here?”) is a masterclass in reflexive scholarship, challenging readers to examine their biases about agency and “rescue narratives.”
Emotional Resonance & Revelations This book pulsed with moments that stole my breath: a Filipino salon worker’s whispered confession about stitching wedding dresses by day and hosting underground pageants by night; Adams’ own fraught romance, where every touch carried the weight of potential catastrophe. The juxtaposition of joy (uproarious laughter in safe houses) against systemic brutality (interviewees recounting torture) left me oscillating between heartache and awe. Most profound was Adams’ conclusion that “home” isn’t a fixed geography but a fugitive act of mutual care—a thesis that lingered long after reading.
Constructive Criticism While Adams’ prose is luminous, the nonlinear structure occasionally obscures the timeline of his research, making it harder to track societal shifts in the region. A deeper exploration of intersectional identities (e.g., how race and class compound queer marginalization for South Asian migrants) could further enrich this already layered work.
Final Verdict A landmark in queer nonfiction—think The Argonauts meets Exit West, with the political heft of The End of Eddy. Adams doesn’t just document survival; he illuminates the radical alchemy of creating a sense of belonging against all odds.
Thank you to Edelweiss and Ingram Publisher Services for the gifted copy. This is the kind of book that rewires how you see the world.
Pair with: How We Fight for Our Lives for a complementary memoir or The Right to Sex for a feminist critique.
For fans of: Ocean Vuong’s lyricism, Abdullah Taïa’s Arab queer narratives, and Katherine Boo’s immersive reportage.
A note: Read with a highlighter—every page demands to be remembered.
This book is a privileged glimpse into queer life in the Middle East of which there is a paucity of glimpses. Whatever the surface prohibitions and severe penalties if caught, one gets the impression that it's all an inescapable part of human nature. There's considerable colour and variety in the clandestine queer life that he encounters. It is also an utterly honest account of the author's own homosexual experiences ranging from heartfelt love to pure lust. Gaar Adam's book is a valuable contribution and is best approached without the temptation of personal judgement.
I barely find any khaleeji queer representation in the book world, let alone in english, so this was a nice surprise! I bought it at a local queer bookstore that has a bunch of queer arab books.
It was nice to read about what the queer expat/immigrant scene is like in the gulf. I never knew baklas were a thing until i read this book. Highly recommend.