Fire in Every Direction

by Tareq Baconi

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.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, LGBT, Queer, Biography Memoir, History, Religion

Audible Audio

Published November 18, 2025

Reviews

[emma · Rating 4 out of 5]

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.

then the final pages made it all worth it.

bottom line: worth the read.

(thanks to the publisher for the arc)

[Silvy · Rating 5 out of 5]

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.

[Zana]

DNF @ 47%

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.

[Sarah Schulman]

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.

[Nada Elshabrawy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I expected something else.
But this is a very sincere and honest self-writing.

[Niah · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm a simple woman. If Ta-Nehisi Coates recommends a book, I'm going to check it out.

And I'm going to love it.

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

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!

[Hadeel · Rating 5 out of 5]

so tender and painful. i will need to pick this up again soon.

[Patrick Doyle]

Terrific review in The Guardian
https://www.theguardian.com/books/202...

[Rummanah (Books in the Spotlight) · Rating 4 out of 5]

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.

[Goda · Rating 5 out of 5]

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.

[Alicia · Rating 4 out of 5]

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.

[Rhiley Jade · Rating 5 out of 5]

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.

Thank you to the publisher for a finished copy.

[Brendan B]

When even the Acknowledgments has you crying that’s when you know it’s good

[Dina Hassanein · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the most moving books I’ve ever read.

[Lulu]

"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.

[kav · Rating 5 out of 5]

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.

to be queer and palestinian ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[Bookonarooftop · Rating 5 out of 5]

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

[Nicole · Rating 4 out of 5]

Honest and raw.

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.

[Raya Tarawneh · Rating 5 out of 5]

“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.”

I devoured this.

[Steph | bookedinsaigon]

Thank you to Washington Square Press and Edelweiss for the free e-ARC in exchange for an honest review

DNFed @ 23%. Baconi's writing and I just weren't getting along. Here's what you should consider about the writing in FIRE IN EVERY DIRECTION to decide whether it's something you'll appreciate or not:

1. Baconi writes about scenes from his childhood from the perspective of a close first-person child narrator. In other words, his younger self narrates his childhood observations and interactions. This narrative choice didn't work for me, because I couldn't tell what both I and Baconi's older self were supposed to be getting out of these childhood memories.

That is not to say that a close first-person child narrator is never successful in a memoir, or always puts me off. An example of when this type of narratorial voice worked for me is Jennette McCurdy in I’m Glad My Mom Died. In IGMMD, McCurdy describes the SA scenes from the naive perspective of her younger self, yet both McCurdy-the-author and the reader understands the horror of what's going on, and why this choice of narrator at this given time is so powerful. In FIRE, I wasn't able to figure out for what purpose Baconi was choosing to narrate some childhood memories from the perspective of his younger self. Is it a commentary on the lingering generational effects of ethnic cleansing, war, and displacement on children? Is it an illustration of childhood events that later helped him realize he is gay?

2. Somewhat disjointed writing. This is present both in the nonchronological structure, jumping back and forth between Baconi's timeline and his parents'/grandparents', as well as in his sentence-level writing. I don't mind nonchronological memoirs, as long as sufficient exposition is given to more thoroughly ground me in a sense of space and time for each different timeline, as well as better connections across the chapters of each timeline. But I wasn't really getting this from FIRE, with the result that I found myself losing interest as the chapters progressed and I still couldn't get a clear mental picture of what was going on.

There's disjointedness at the sentence level as well. Names were introduced, stuff happened, then we moved on to a different setting/time, and my eyes were crossing as I struggled to follow along. In the first quarter or so that I managed to read, I found it odd that Baconi-as-narrator didn't do much of anything; rather, things happened to him, or around him, and he was carried along in their wake. I don't know if this a deliberate stylistic writing choice or not, but I found it difficult to be immersed in the story he was telling.

-

Baconi's writing reminds me of Hala Alyan's, so if you liked both her fiction and nonfiction, I think FIRE IN EVERY DIRECTION will be up your alley. As for me, I've attempted to read both Alyan's fiction and nonfiction and DNFed all, and if it weren't for Isabella Hammad's splendid blurb at the beginning of FIRE, I don't think I would have been able to know what was going on, nor why FIRE was written. This is not to diminish the significance of Baconi's memoir or his identity, but rather to say that not every book is for every reader out there in terms of writing style. FIRE is bound to find an audience that will be awed by his honesty, lyricism, and resilience, and I, too, will find Palestinian memoirs that blow me away.

[Moth · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/5 stars
Thank you Atria Books for the gifted copy!
Fire in Every Direction is a memoir by a queer, Palestinian man. It follows the life of his family from the Nakba to current day.
Disclaimer in advance: I struggle immensely with enjoying memoirs. I did not really enjoy this one, but great for you if you did.
The parts I liked the most about this memoir were the history of Palestine and Baconi’s family. I especially loved the way he tells his grandmother’s story of fleeing Palestine.
However, my enjoyment quickly trailed off through the rest of the book. There were certain themes that I would’ve loved to see him discuss more but were ultimately just brief mentions.
The titular theme of “fire in every direction” never came to mean anything (as far as I could tell). It could have been a much stronger book if that theme had a little more punch rather than being briefly mentioned.
For me, personally, I found Baconi’s love life to be boring (and very sketchy at times). And unfortunately for me, the story of his love life makes up most of the book.
If you’re a fan of memoirs, this book will be much more enjoyable for you.

CW: genocide & war; death & grief; misogyny; homophobia; racism; minor/adult relationship

[Iz · Rating 5 out of 5]

This feels more than a memoir: it’s messy reckonings, sent/unsent letters, unfiltered (and filtered) views of history, a juggling of being queer, Palestinian, displaced, “victim”, “backwards”, “savior”, “civilized”, more than, less than, and everything in between. Tareq Baconi weaves his lived experiences with his mother’s and father’s shared stories and grandmother’s diary; narration across generations, imposed borders, and genocidal war regimes.

I feel like this book isn’t getting as much “mainstream attention” because it’s adding so much more to the “Palestine narrative” that people aren’t seeing / the “mainstream” won’t allow for (ex: being raised in a Christian household, grappling with queerness from a young age, conditional/unconditional familial love, processing one’s identities tied to (and NOT tied to) imperialism).

Though a bit slow paced, I believe it served as a reminder that processing one’s self is a decades long process, and Palestinians are deserving of so much time for rest and reflection.

I am left thinking about the definitions of home, belonging, family, pride, and love — I’m so glad I own this book so I can continue to return to it with new thoughts each future read.

[Dafydd Gwaredd · Rating 5 out of 5]

A life-long Palestinian refugee, Tareq Baconi, relates an absorbing, lyrical, deeply emotional and heart-felt autobiographical exploration of his personal and his family’s story from the time his youthful grandmother and her family were violently forced from Haifa by Zionists during the 1948 Nakba, until current times when his marriage with another man is embraced and supported by his parents still living as refugees in Jordon. Between the endpoints is a charismatic kaleidoscope of self-discovery, exploration and affirmation to claim his identity and dignity as gay, Palestinian and Arab.

Beautifully weaved within and throughout Tareq’s story from beginning to end is his close friendship and infatuation with Ramzi, a childhood friend until young adulthood. Platonic with feelings of homoeroticism, the boys deep connection and love for each other are heart-wrenching reflections of Tareq’s life-long journey of self-awareness, self-acceptance and discerning love. Throughout the author’s narrative, I was reminded of the similarities queer people everywhere experience while growing up, coming out and finally embracing our true selves.

The short film, “One Like Him”, is a cinematic portrayal of Tareq’s imagined reunion with Ramzi as adults, based on a segment of the book. It is available to view on the steaming platforms, Here TV and Dekkoo. It is a gorgeous and poignant epilogue to the book.

[Jennifer ~ TarHeelReader · Rating 5 out of 5]

Narrated by the author, I highly recommend the read/listen for the best experience. The author of Solito, another book I loved, said he was forever changed by this book. Ditto. A million dittos. This is the story of Tareq Baconi and his family seeking home, whether it was his grandmother forced to leave Palestine, or his father, forced to leave Lebanon during the Civil War there. It’s also about home, coming home to oneself, for the author.

Fire in Every Direction is a stunning portrayal of love in all its forms and so much more than I can put into words here. It deserves to be a classic and on course syllabi for generations to come.

I received a gifted copy.

Many of my reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com and instagram: www.instagram.com/tarheelreader

[Carol Lynn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Most people fail to write a good memoir because they lack the curiosity to find out what REALLY shapes the characters in their lives. Telling your own story is easy... This happened, then this, then this. But taking the time to listen and understand your hereditary struggles is much harder. Especially because it forces you to turn the people who matter most to you into characters, highlighting their strongest moments, explaining their weakest. Baconi does a great job of explaining the cyclical nature of his and his family's struggles through clear, crisp stories. He also does a great job of being honest with his own insecurities, especially through heartbreak and sexuality, while also imbibing some of his mother's righteous anger.

[Henry · Rating 5 out of 5]

In an extremely personal account of his life and in particular a relationship from his childhood, Tareq Baconi explores his queerness and how it's entangled with, and at times separate from, his life as a third-generation refugee, his grandparents having fled the 1948 Nabka to Lebanon, and his parents the Lebanese Civil War to Amman. It so delicately grapples with the intimate, the personal, the familial, and the sociopolitical. Baconi offers few explanations — untranslated Arabic text peppers the pages — and expects the reader to have some understanding of the realities of occupation of Palestine and the diaspora. Written beautifully and poignantly, this is a phenomenal read.

[Diana Ishaqat · Rating 2 out of 5]

Honestly, no. I find the author incredibly articulate as a political analyst (from what I’ve watched/listened to), and that is what got me to read. But this a lot of yapping about Amman, Muslim culture holding the progressive Palestinian/Lebanese Christian back, and not being over a teenage crush.

Amman is not good enough, Beirut is where everyone is free to do what they want. I get that not ALL parts of the book are a generalization, and that not ALL ideas here are black or white. I get that it’s a personal journey- so this is just a take of one reader.

I did like reading the first half, then it feels like an Arab YA story for English speakers. Even the writing style changes.

[sahana · Rating 5 out of 5]

Genuinely one of the best books I’ve read. Growing up queer when the backdrop of your life is violence and genocide is the reality for many and reading about it only brings pain. Baconi talks about hating being queer because of his Arabness and hating being Arab because of his queerness all while coming to accept both parts of himself through a variety of lived experiences. Every single page was just a reminder of the current genocide against Palestinians in Gaza, Ramallah, Haifa, the West Bank, and so many more places. This was so incredibly moving and I cannot wait to read more from Baconi.



free Palestine 🇵🇸

[Marjorie Feld · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was so fortunate to hear Baconi speak with Noura Erakat at Penn; there I was introduced to the beauty of Baconi's prose.

Everyone of every gender will learn from this book, to be sure. Erakat spoke of how she was especially moved by Baconi's stories of his mother and grandmother, and I confess I felt the same. His courageous stories of "darting shadows" in their lives and in his life: these moved me to tears.

These pages have sharp poignancy and pain and also hope and joy. Stunningly beautiful.