When Madian Al Jazerah came out to his Arab parents, his mother had one question. 'Are you this?' she asked, cupping her hand. 'Or are you this?' she motioned with a poking finger. If you're the poker, she said, you aren't a homosexual.
For Madian, this opposition reveals not who he is, but patriarchy, power, and society's efforts to fit us into neat boxes. He is Palestinian, but wasn't raised in Palestine. He is Kuwaiti-born, but not Kuwaiti. He's British-educated, but not a Westerner. He's a Muslim, but can't embrace the Islam of today. He's a gay man, out of the closet but still living in the shadows: he has left Jordan, his home, three times in fear of his life.
Madian has searched for acceptance and belonging around the world, joining new communities in San Francisco, New York, Hawaii and Tunisia, yet always finding himself pulled back to Amman. This frank and moving memoir narrates his battles with adversity, racism and homophobia, and a rich life lived with humour, dignity and grace.
In Are You This? Or Are you This?, Madian Al Jazerah tells his story of growing up gay and exiled from his family's home in Palestine.
Madian was born the third of four children in Kuwait to Palestinian parents with Jordanian passports. And so begins a life characterized by its inability to be neatly identified and categorized. As Madian gets older, he becomes aware of his sexuality and moves to the United States for work. When Iraq invaded Kuwait, his family was once again sent into upheaval. Madian returned to Jordan to be with family where he and his brother opened a progressive restaurant/cafe/book shop, Books@Cafe. From this he is able to build community with LGBTQ+ Jordanians, Arabs, and even a few Israelis.
Are You This? is a beautiful story about a man who became an activist as he began exploring his identity. Though the end of the book feels long-winded and redundant, the first portion certainly does not. This book will pull you in and Madian's story will stick with you even when you put it down.
settling on 4 stars for this! Overall a solid, very personal memoir. Provided a valuable (and pretty vulnerable) look into Palestinian identity. (well. One perspective of it.) I was interested in how the different countries the author’s lived in, and his lived experience as a refugee, affected his cultural and personal self especially. (I’m gonna overuse ”identity” a bit in the first part of my review, but it’s for a reason. Give me a moment and some mercy.) There are a couple of points and thoughts about how identity can be created/manufactured that are going to stick in my head for a while.
In my general opinion, I liked the second half more(although of course, the first half pulled me in). Maybe I’m biased because it talks more about (intersectional) queer issues, especially as Madian starts doing activism work.
But aside from that! I was moved by how Madian and his family’s feelings around loss were written. I loved the poem from one of his brothers that was included. (Probably also biased, as someone who’s lost a father.)
(Also, I liked the stories the author was able to find about his family tree. Not only were they interesting, but they showed a lot of the resilience and pride in his culture present throughout the novel.)
The structure wasn’t entirely linear, notably towards the end, which I struggled with at points. But this is also a memoir—meant to talk about the emotionally significant parts of someone’s life rather than tell a neatly structured narrative, I’m not going to let it affect my rating.
The only downside I can think of is that unfortunately the writing was too straightforward at times. There were instances where parts in the author’s life would be summarized rather than detailed, which took away some of the impact. Although, how much that style is going to bother the reader definitely varies based on the person.
I have to start with the disclosure that both authors, Madian and Ellen, are dear friends of mine and so I won’t make any claims to absolute objectivity. However, based on my friendship with them I can say that as soon as I started reading the book I was struck by how incredibly accurately Ellen managed to capture Madian’s voice. It’s uncanny: it’s as if Madian is sitting in front of me, telling me his story himself. The story made me laugh and cry.
This is Madian’s memoir of his journey to discover identity, worth and home. As a (now openly) homosexual Palestinian man, born and raised in Kuwait, educated in British schools, and living in Jordan, running a business and practicing activism, the challenges in his search were not simple or straightforward. He navigated them with honesty, courage and his characteristic whimsical sense of humour. His greatest act of bravery was recognising and dealing with his vulnerabilities - and sharing them with the world in this book.
His Palestinian identity was instilled in him - and his siblings - by his parents. His steadfast, well-educated mother hails from a line of strong Palestinian women. His father came from a “promiment family … philanthropists and intellectuals.” Together, his parents, created the “tribe” - their family of seven, along with a number of uncles, aunts etc - a loving, closely-knit group that have supported each other come what may. It’s the tribe that provided the bedrock that Madian needed to overcome life’s adversities, prime amongst them acknowledging his sexuality in a far from gay-friendly society and losing his home.
“Are you this or are you this” has been a recurring theme throughout his journey. But what Madian unequivocally IS is a kind-hearted, warm, compassionate, creative and giving man who’s willing to fight for what’s right, for himself and for others. And also an airplane lover!
I recently traveled to Jordan and was lucky enough to hear some of Madian's stories in person, as well as have him sign this book for me. He even went out of his way to pick up extra copies for me and my friends when the bookstore ran out. Books@Cafe was one of the places I went all the time, and it will always have a little place in my heart. When I learned that this book existed, I knew I had to read it, and I've gradually been savoring it these past few weeks.
Are You This? Or Are You This? is an autobiography, but it encompasses so much: identity, family, belonging, value, labels, oppression, power, resilience, existence, and all the complexities that come with being human. Even though I can only have a glimpse of what it means to be Palestinian, or a refugee, or a gay man in the Middle East, I connected with so much of Madian's uncertainty and struggles with identity, and was constantly riveted to each of the stories told here.
There is much to be gleaned about how identity is something simultaneously created by and forced upon us, and the complicated ways that we choose to interpret it. Towards the end of the book the narrative became a bit fragmented, but that's not inherently a flaw; sometimes there is no linear way to capture a life and all of its threads. I will certainly be treasuring this book and using it to reminisce on the time I spent in Jordan.
If I could give this more than 5 stars I would! I don’t know Madian personally but, being a West-Ammani myself, our circles overlapped and intersected a lot. I have always had the highest respect and admiration for him and the work he’s done as a trailblazer for different communities in Jordan, specifically the LGBTQ community. Not to mention how many warm memories I have of Books @ Cafe as a haven for those of us who never quite felt like they belonged (and my first ever visit to the World Wide Web).
This memoir is beautiful, raw, vulnerable, and offers some great insights on Palestinian identity, being gay in a non-Western context, and family. It resonated so much with me - especially with the ongoing identity and belonging questions I have myself as a Palestinian. I finished it in one evening because I couldn’t put it down. Highly recommended!!
It’s easy (mostly) to be gay in San Francisco or any big American city. It’s hard to imagine the courage it takes to be gay and out of the closet in the Arab world. This biography is terrific. In addition to issues around being gay and Muslim, it also gives a real perspective on being Palestinian.
Madian Al Jazerah’s tale offers surprising insights into that civilization, sometimes shocking, often sad, maddening at times, or simply weird. Once I got into it, it was a page turner. It’s weakness and strength are that it is a tale told to another and written in a sometimes stream of consciousness style, the timeline often shifts. It works.
My neighbor suggested I read this book, “You’ll find it fascinating.” I did. She’s an American citizen, also a Greek Cypriot with roots in Palestine. And I’m gay.
The title is perfect. His mother asks, gesturing with fingers and not saying the words, but the meaning clear: do you penetrate or get penetrated? Are you this or are you this? In the Arab world it is a crucial distinction, apparently. Gays are bottoms. Tops are just guys having sex. Really? Denial is a coping technique.
Madian and another Arab man lived as lovers for two years in Chicago. The two, now living elsewhere, ran into each other.
“‘How are the girls in Chicago?’ he asked with a wink. “‘What girls?’ I replied in bewilderment. “There are no girls, I’m gay.” “‘You’re gay?’ he announced matter-of-factly.”
This is sexual fluidity, he explains to the reader. In the Arab world, traditionally there are no labels. If you have sex with someone you like or love, it’s sex with one you like or love. If the labels are not there, you cannot be defined as this or that. The man was not gay, in his own mind, because he did not accept any term that would define him. Being openly gay and proud can get nods of approval in big city America, or invite police harassment or death in some Arab states. Madian was born in Kuwait but cannot be a citizen. His family lost their home in Palestine with the war that created Israel and displaced millions of Palestinians who remain outcasts, victims of Israeli policies in expanding their control and of other Arab countries who really don’t care but pretend they do.
He makes an impassioned case, with his life as example, that Israel created an apartheid state, Palestinians live under the yoke of the military and armed civilians. His comments match some of the rare commentary I have seen.
“In international law, apartheid is a state-sanctioned regime of institutionalized racial discrimination and oppression by one racial group against another. This is the Israeli regime in a nutshell. “There is no freedom of movement in the occupied Palestinian territory. There are forcible population removals and the destruction of whole communities for the creation of Jewish settlements. And torture, brutality and humiliation are daily realities for the Palestinians. “Why don’t people speak out about it? Because in the United States and Europe, such is the fear of being labelled anti-Semitic that there is a gag order on all things Palestinian. This distorts the processing of very obvious facts. This fear is encouraged by the Israeli government and pro-Israeli lobbies. “If you are a politician in the United States or Europe, God help you if you criticized Israel for human rights violations or expanding illegal settlements. Let’s not even mention torture, killings, forced evictions and daily arrests of children as young as five. If you speak up, you will be labelled an anti-Semite with serious implications for your career, So, you keep quiet.”
He offered a rather startling example from the private sector:
“In 2018, Virgin Airlines was the subject of a controversy for offering maftoul on the menu under the name ‘Palestinian couscous salad.’ Israeli passengers were up in arms and called for a boycott of the airline. They managed to make Virgin Airlines remove the word ‘Palestinian’ from the name of the dish.”
In America transexual rights are rising in importance. Opposition is often a vacuous distraction about bathroom access. But Madian tells one story that is particularly poignant, a point of view I find unnerving but believable. A man living as a woman and wanting sex change surgery would not go ahead until her religious leader, the Grand Mufti, provided his blessing on her as a female.
“Why?” Madian asked. “Madian, when I die, who is going to wash me? Tell me, who is going to wash my body? I am a woman but women are not going to wash me. Men are not going to wash me. I will be placed in the ground impure. I want to be pure when I meet my creator.”
In Islam, washing the dead is an integral rite of passage. Women wash the body of women, men of men. And she was trans. Ten years after asking, she was still waiting.
This biography is an insightful view of a world few understand and LGBTQ+ Americans may find astonishing. A great read by a remarkable man.
Madian skriver i sin självbiografi om brottningskampen med olika identiteter som palestinier och homosexuell. Hans familj drevs bort från sitt hemland som flyktingar och Madian växte upp i Kuwait, där de dock inte kunde få medborgarskap utan i stället fick jordanska pass. Madian gick dessutom i brittisk skola vilket också präglade honom. Under tiden som student tillbringade han många år i USA och det var där han tog sina första steg i att finna och acceptera sin identitet som homosexuell. Det tog väldigt lång tid för honom att ens erkänna det för sig själv. Han trodde aldrig att han skulle få modet att komma ut för sin familj men till slut gjorde han det. Boken börjar med ett samtal där modern försöker förstå och undrar vilken ”sort” han är? Den ”övre eller undre”? Madian skriver i boken om hur synen på homosexuella är på det viset: även i västerländsk kultur ses den ”mottagande” som den som är ”mindre värd”. Och han visar i sin bok att homofobi och transfobi i mycket kommit till den arabiska kulturen från västerländsk kolonisering och inflytande.
Madian skriver också om tillvaron för HBTQI+ personer i de länder han bott i - Jordanien, Kuwait och Tunisien och hur det i mycket kan vara en fri och hoppfull tillvaro men samtidigt en där HBTQI+ personer lever under ständigt hot. Hans berättelse om den tragiska händelsen med Sara Hegazy från Egypten berörde mig väldigt djupt.
En bok som jag fick rekommenderat av @ollie.jahnke och vill rekommendera till andra! Både hoppfull och hjärtskärande och väldigt lärande läsning.
It is hard to articulate coherently how I feel about this book. It was a deeply moving journey and I felt so much much for Madian during the highs and lows. It is a brutally honest and brave account that Madian should take great pride in.
I'm so glad I found this after reading the Queer Arab anthology. This is such an important book, if nothing else, it has educated me so much on the Palastinian plight.
One thing I will disagree with the author with, I don't think Madian harms the success of Books @ Cafe - I think he is the soul of the business and without his vision to support vulnerable people it wouldn't have become what it is.
To have a feel of belonging is a basic urge of all human beings. And to judge others and put them in appropriate boxes is a common behaviour among them...
Maidan Al Jazerah is a Palestinian. But not born in Palestine. He was born in Kuwait. But not Kuwaiti. He is British educated, but not a Westerner.
So wherever he goes, he needs to answer the question "Are you this? Or are you this?". In fact he loves traveling very much and so the questions were always following him.
In his memoir, Madian tells how this question changed his life and how he answered it. Being born in a place and identifies as a citizen, we may not completely understand what Madian has gone through.
Madian is a Gay. That was the thing that connected me to him. I was too curious to read Madian's memoirs being a gay and living in the Arab world.
Being a Gay is itself the toughest part to live with in this world. When everyone around us just lives, we need to fight for that. The thing is almost the same all around the world.
Madian's memor starts with the conversation between him and his mom, the moment he came out to her. While the whole world asks him "Are you this? Or are you this?" His mom also asked the same question..
"Are you this?" she asked, cupping her hand. "Or are you this?" she motioned with a poking finger. If you're the poker, she said, you aren't a homosexual. This was enough to understand the life of a gay person in the Arab world.
But it's not just there. Even the homosexual persons are supressed in the society, some persons are again suppressed among the community itself, just because of the preferences in sexual acts.
Our society always classifies humans. Some are always upper than others and some are always lower than some..
After reading the memoir, i really felt like giving Madian a tight hug.. That was deep inside from my heart. He was with me while I was reading the book, and he will be there in the heart forever...
There's something about this book that gives me a little ick. I'm not sure I can really put into words what it is, I think it's partly that he can come off as self-congratulatory and there are definitely some political viewpoints in here I don't entirely agree with, but I honestly just think it comes down to the fact that his personality shows through here strongly. Now in theory, that's a good thing. Unfortunately for me though, I think he has a type of very outgoing personality that to me can come off as a bit superficial and it's just representative of a kind of person/ality I tend to not get on with very well.
Apart from that though there are some really great and powerful moments throughout. The question of are you this or are you this that the book always came back to in reference to a variety of things made for quite a nice theme throughout and he definitely has some interesting stories to tell that can get you invested. A lot I still liked but yeah bits I also didn't really like that much.
This beautiful memoir had me in tears several times. I read it in conjunction with/ at the same time as A Hundred Years War on Palestine by Rashid Khalidi, trying to gain a deeper understanding of the conflict on both historical and interpersonal levels. This piece couldn't have done that better. It details personal histories, of the authors family, life and loss in Palestine beginning in the Nekba, to the time of writing. I didn't understand the scale of upheaval in the lives of Palestinean people and the barriers to their homemaking, not just in Palestine but in every place Al Jazerah or his family settled and was subsequently removed. This book also made very deep personal connections in my heart, as a queer person, feeling the pain of identity formation and shame. While not comparable in the slightest, I also feel perpetually locked in a transitional state, without home or stable identity.
Such an interesting, complex read about identity, belonging and acceptance. Madian is a Palestinian as well as a gay man and the book mainly focuses on his identity, his family history and the identity of being a displaced Palestinian. Madian's story of geopolitics, migration and LGBTQ issues in the Arab world is a personal one as well as addressing wider issues on human rights and the Palestinian/Israeli conflict. I was previously a bit uneducated on the history of Palestine/Israel occupation and so this book really allowed me to get a personal insight from a person who's family had to flee Palestine. The book also made me do a deep dive in reading up the history which I'm grateful for.
100% recommend if you're interested in identity and migration politics, geography, or queer politics in the Arab world.
It's easy to like and admire Madian Al Jazerah in this heartfelt memoir. He describes his exceptional and daring life, but at the same time, is very open about his insecurities and shortcomings. The book provides an honest insight into the life of a gay man in Jordan, who is an architect, a restaurant owner, a Palestinian, a brother, a son. Someone who is this and this. The book looks at how seemingly conflicting identities come together in a single person. I especially enjoyed the family dynamics he describes to great effect, the details on his life in Amman and his humanitarian work. If I ever visit Jordan (and I hope I will), I will definitely visit books@cafe.
En godt skrevet biografi/memoir om jakten på tilhørighet og identitet - er jeg det, eller er jeg det? Noen identiteter krasjer, noen identiteter er farlige, noen identiteter er vanskelige å definere - dette er interseksjonelt og komplekst om å være en palestinsk flyktning og en homofil mann, og også om å være del av en stor, sammensveiset familie.
I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS BOOK ON TOP OF BEING SO WELL WRITTEN IT'S SET IN THE CITY I'VE SPENT MY WHOLE LIFE IN AND THE AUTHOR IS SO BRUTALLY HONEST YOU'D THIK HE'S 80 AND THIS IS A RETROSPECTIVE BUT IT ISN'T IT'S SO COOL AND HE TALKS ABOUT HOW BOOKS@ CAME TO BE IN DETAIL LITERALLY SO SPECIAL I FEAR THIS HAS SET THE STANDARD FOR ALL OTHER BOOKS I WILL EVER READ
Deeply informative memoir of the life of a queer Palestinian. The author quickly listed out many life events without providing descriptions or details that would have drawn the reader in more fully to his experience.
A little disjointed towards the end, but a beautiful read nonetheless - it has taken up residence in my heart and what I wouldn't give to be able to travel again and visit Books@cafe.
This is a wonderful memoir about identity, family and what it means to be a gay man in a society that refuses to acknowledge your existence. It's powerful, raw and honest.
This is a beautifully written memoir of a Palestinian gay man. It has a great sense of positivity about it. He also has a strong sense of belonging to his birth family.