From the renowned Palestinian scholar, a memoir of political and queer awakening, of impossible love amidst generations of displacement, and what it means to return home.
Both a love story and a coming-of-age tale that spans countries and continents, Fire in Every Direction balances humor and loss, nostalgia and hope, as it takes us from the Middle East to London, and from 1948 to the present. Tareq Baconi crafts a deeply intimate, unforgettable portrait of how a political consciousness—desire and resistance—is passed down through generations.
In 1948, Tareq’s grandmother, Eva, would flee Haifa as Zionist militias seized the city. In the late 1970s, she would flee Beirut with her daughter, Rima, as the country was in the throes of a civil war. In Amman, the family would eventually obtain the comfort of middle-class life—still, a young Tareq would feel by cultures of silence, by a sense of not belonging, by his own growing awareness that he is in love with his childhood best friend, Ramzi.
After relocating to London for college, Tareq hopes to put aside his past, and begins to work through an understanding of self as a queer man. Yet as Operation Iraqi Freedom radicalizes young people around the world towards anti-war protest, history comes back to hushed whispers overheard, stories of his mother’s years as an activist in Beirut and her return to Palestine during a moment of peace.
Living between the region and London, Tareq fits in neither and feels alienated from both. Queerness is policed back in Amman, just as his Palestinian-ness is abroad. These gradual estrangements escalate, forcing him to grapple with what it means to live in liminal spaces, and rethink the meaning of home. Eventually, tracing the journey of his family before him, Tareq returns to Palestine.
This is an account of finding oneself through histories of dispossession and reclaiming what has been silenced.
it's in times like these that memoirs are more important than ever.
at times i struggled with the style and the direction of this book — childhood memories were narrated by the young version of the author as he lived them, and the jumping around and lack of hindsight made it hard for me to understand the reflection.
as time passed (in granted confusing fits and starts) and the book progressed, i enjoyed it more, but i still had a hard time putting together the themes and lessons without the usual tone of memoir.
it’s honestly a rarity that i pick up a nonfiction book and feel completely and utterly speechless, bereft, and also transformed, but WOW. this was an incredible, deeply personal, and moving testament to both the queer and Palestinian identity, and a man’s journey as he reckons with both over the course of a lifetime.
this book is a multidimensional, multifaceted wonder, as it's interspersed with splices of stories from Tareq's grandmother who fled Palestine during the Nakba, Tareq's mother and father who fled Beirut at the start of the civil war in Lebanon, and Tareq himself, fleeing in a way his own queer identity as he simultaneously grapples with an inheritance of grief and resistance as a Palestinian in diaspora.
Tareq's profoundly vulnerable unpacking of both of his identities — and the ways in which they intrinsically intersect — is not only thematically compelling, it’s written so beautifully and so intimately it feels at times like a personal diary — something Tareq comments on in his acknowledgments, noting that writing is not a task to be done, but a life to be lived — and what a life it is, as he shares generational history and legacies of fire passed down from his mother, his wrangling with his queerness in the face of 3eib, and the reckonings, both big and small, that make up a journey.
there are so many threads that tie this story together with themes of transformative love — that which is unrequited, given to a best friend unwilling or unable to make space for it, that of a grandmother praying for her grandson’s well-being, that of a parent who sought to insulate their children from a legacy of grief and a lost home, that of himself, as he comes to terms with who he is, and ultimately that of a homeland only known secondhand.
nothing i say about this beautiful story could ever do it justice, and i’m so grateful to atria for allowing me the opportunity to read an advance copy. this releases on november 4, and i encourage any of you looking for something beautiful, transformative, and moving-to-the-point-of-tears to pick it up when it releases.
I feel bad for saying this, but the author's audiobook narration leaves A LOT to be desired. The narrative was interesting, but listening to it in the author's monotone delivery made it really boring, unfortunately.
A powerful memoir of queer and Palestinian reckoning. Tareq Baconi creates 'a gaze of our own' by bringing his open heart to a tough confrontation with histories both intimate and diasporic. An important contribution to our many literatures.
It felt like a privilege to read this book. A heartbreakingly beautiful memoir about identity - Baconi’s cultural identity as a Palestinian and his identity as a Queer man- and how they intersect. Absolutely stunning.
I’ll be recommending this for our library immediately and recommending it to everyone.
Thank you Washington Square Press for the review copy!
In his intimate, poignant, and thought provoking memoir, Palestinian activist and Middle Eastern historical analyst Tareq Baconi writes about his journey of self acceptance as a queer man and the awakening of his political consciousness. With passion and sincerity he weaves his childhood memories and his first unrequited love along with the futile pursuit of assimilating and becoming a 'man' that is expected of him by the expectations of a culture and family that marginalized him. While addressing the distressing times that Palestinians are facing at the moment, his memoir manages to be hopeful.
What a book! I was very eager to read this book since the moment I heard it is being published. The genocide in Gaza has awaken a rage inside me and Tareq Baconi is one of the most illuminating public speakers whose words help me to make sense of the crumbling world and gives hope to imagine a different, more just, future. So I was curious to know how he became a man he is, and how he connects being queer with the struggle for the liberation of Palestine. I was not disappointed. The book tells the story of his family - three generations - who had to flee Palestine during the Nakba, then Beirut to Amman, the story of Tareq's first love, leaving for the West, coming out and then finding his way home. And it is wrapped in the most beautiful prose that hopefully will haunt me for a long time.
A Palestinian author whose family was pushed out of their homes by Israel and found themselves refugees in Lebanon, and when the fighting reached there, in Jordan. It’s a story of him and being gay and learning to navigate that in a society not welcoming of that but also a story of displacement and survival. I would have found this moving regardless but really found it important given the war and violence the US and Israel are once again inflicting on the region.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for the review copy. The book is available now!
Moving, raw, vulnerable… So vulnerable that I felt like I was peaking into tareqs private life behind closed curtains.
This book shattered me and then mended me multiple times; through the depictions of Palestine, through the depictions of Amman, through the depictions of turning away from and then growing up and turning back to our culture, and through the love story. I saw someone I knew and places I’ve lived in every sentence. I’m grateful that this story was shared with the world and certain that it is a necessary one. The personal is always political
I listened to it, and there are a lot of lines I would have underlined or written down had I been able.
I did find it a little hard to follow at first, but I ultimately like the structure, and I like the way the author describes reflecting on his past friendship in particular. The tone is very thoughtful, and the theme of diaspora is prevalent. I wish I had more eloquent things to say. I'd not be opposed to eye reading it at some point.
“So, I will write only this: the power of the abject is revolutionary, and because of that, immense resources are invested in ensuring it remains invisible or is otherwise rendered repulsive. It is precisely Gaza’s abjection that makes it the site of revolution, a land teeming with life and love, a territory with the power to shake our world out of its stupor.”
An affecting memoir about the interconnectedness of personal and political awakening.
4 stars. Wow, not always the biggest fans of memoirs, but this one was very intimate. Portrays perfectly how the people and places in our life shape and mold us to who we are today. As always, thank you Atria Books for the earc.
Read. This. Book. Tareq Baconi wrote a true and utter masterpiece of a memoir, filled with power and queer Palestinian resistance. Love, hope, and determination is written in every word. The world needs this now more than ever.
Not my usual pick. Nice personal account of the authors familial and personal experiences. A bit hard to get into and follow at times, but good overall
Pulled me in as I kept going. Perhaps it’s vain to compare being closeted to the struggles of Gaza, but it’s a very interesting comparison. I’m reminded of my grandfather, and how his aggressive assimilation was the last defense he had.
A powerful, aching memoir of displacement, the constriction of silence and shame, and the author’s journey to embrace himself fully, to find a home within himself and in the world. The final third is particularly moving.
"Fire In Every Direction," by renowned Palestinian scholar Tareq Barconi, is a deeply moving, beautifully written memoir about identity, love, and belonging. Spanning generations and continents, Barconi weaves personal and political history with humor, heart, and honesty. This story of queerness, family, and the search for home is intimate and unforgettable. This is a book that will stay with readers long after the final page.
I've been having a memoir-heavy year, and this is def in my top 3 (of all memoir reads). Baconi does so much justice his family's history in how he weaves together their experiences alongside his own in a way that doesn't cheapen or lessen either one. especially with the subject of queerness in the context of arabness, it is layered and complicated and all too easy to box it into what is acceptable for the western-centric understanding, and Baconi dodges these "diaspora" tropes expertly at every turn. I am most touched by how much this memoir answers questions that I've always had about how others like me lived their lives in the context of "home"land/region, and I am grateful for the opportunity to glimpse his life that mirrors my own in many ways.
Fire in Every Direction is that memoir. Powerful, important, and one that should be told and read.
The abstract of the book reads: "From the renowned Palestinian scholar, a memoir of political and queer awakening, of impossible love amidst generations of displacement, and what it means to return home."
So I knew I had to read it.
The voice of the narrator/author is quite subtle but at the same time powerful.
I loved his journey of self-discovery; it was personal and raw.
The writing style itself was quite engaging and I could not put the book down
I had no idea who Baconi was when I entered this Goodreads giveaway but I can relate somewhat to living in the margins, so I decided to check this memoir out.
Really glad I did. A really well done and fascinating look at how people and places can shape us, and how to find home in liminal spaces.
“The steel scaffolding that I had painstakingly assembled to hold me up, like the blueprints of my engineering design sheets, slid, molten and fluid, down my body. Hot metal that ran across my chest and my back and between my thighs. I was amorphous, undefinable, oozing out of the contours of my skin.”