Without tells a story of searching for belonging both in the world and within your own skin. Born in Saudi Arabia to a Yemeni family, the novel’s protagonist has been ill-at-ease since childhood, because she never felt like she was a girl. Alia’s alienation grows as she slowly comes to realise that she is, in fact, a man and begins the transition to live life as Ali.
This is a very important story to tell as it portrays the struggles of gender non-conforming people in society. The novel is sensitive and frank in how it approaches an intersex person’s struggles with the realities of love, friendship, and survival against the backdrop of a life lived between Saudi Arabia and Yemen, and then later the UK. Without navigates complex issues in a very human way, painting an honest portrait of how people come to terms with challenges they never expected they would face. Told in a deceptively simple style, through a tightly woven and skillful narration, Without makes these struggles resonate with us all.
An exemplary work which accomplishes to flourish within the literary device of fragmentation. The different perspectives from different characters as narrators let us dive into interrelationships of the dynamics of gender and sexuality. It is certainly a magnificent piece touching upon delicate topics with a remarkable mastery.
It is a great translation from the Arabic. I loved it and would recommend it as reading for anyone interested in Gender studies and the body, especially in the Arab world.
My colleague found this in our office library and I was instantly intrigued. This was the first book I read with an intersex protagonist, a Yemeni one at that. It was a very absorbing read. Once I started, I couldn’t put it down. The translation was beautifully rendered, which I truly appreciated.
Alia’s story is by no means easy. The first half of the book is easier to read than the second half. While Alia deals with anxieties and confusion during her teenage years, miraculously she is mentally stable. It is her life in the second half of the book, after she arrives in the UK, that is more difficult. While she finally understands her condition and finds a way forward, it is a complex, difficult and lengthy process. She is an incredibly brave protagonist, one whose struggles and difficulties are no doubt faced by others.
Perhaps the one thing that may have further enriched this is allowing Alia to meet other intersex individuals who had faced similar issues. As this never happens in the book, the feeling of Alia’s isolation in her condition is intensified. On the other hand, she has a strong support network. A group of compassionate friends, supportive parents and her partner Amira.
The end of the book was very difficult to read, it reminded me of The Danish Girl and a part of me desperately wishes it ended differently.
I KNEW this was going to be a 5 star read for me. And oh my god it really was. Probably the most profound book that I read so far in 2026 given its context and to think it was sitting in my bookshelves for 2 years! Bear with me it’s going to be a LONG review.
This novel is so daring and groundbreaking, it centers the story of someone born intersex in a time, place and society that did not know how to understand such a reality. In an era where doctors in this region did not know how to deal with it and where society is deeply unforgiving toward anything outside of the binary. Writing a story like this is incredibly important.
I was really moved by Alia’s (protagonist) journey, but also in the way the novel explored her inner world alongside the reactions, fears, projections, tenderness and confusion (And allll the feels!!) of the people around her.
There is a particular loneliness in navigating parts of yourself that cannot easily be spoken aloud, especially within deeply collective and conservative societies where nuance is often erased and certain inner worlds remain unnamed.
I truly believe we need more Arabic literature that discusses subjects considered “taboo” within our societies, because life does not exist in black and white. Due to social scrutiny, cultural restrictions, and censorship, so many stories from our region remain untold, unheard and unseen. that, to me, is a form of erasure.
We need to create and write about our own nuances so we can build our own literary record of what it means to exist here, in all our complexity. We deserve to refer to stories written from within our societies rather than constantly reaching toward Western frameworks and sources that can sometimes deepen feelings of alienation, confusion, and distance within ourselves.
This book felt deeply familiar to me in ways that are difficult to explain. It reminded me how isolating it can feel to grow up slightly outside of what is expected of you while still loving the society and people you come from.
A beautiful, courageous, and deeply necessary novel.
MUST READ!! One of THE most important books coming out of the GCC.
Life loses so much of its value when the soul is tormented, not only by pain but by fixating on its arrival.
I shan’t participate in discourse surrounding what qualifies as “good” representation, whether there is—or ought to be—license to representation (i.e., whose experience has the authority to speak on behalf of others, as “representation”?), etc. so I will suffice to say: neither do I care for insistent British colonialism apologia.