I found learning about her culture and experiences coming to the US interesting. Although I was interested in learning about the Muslim religion, there was too much of it in the book for my taste. ( )

Absolutely phenomenal! The way Lamya writes about queerness and faith, drawing parallels and comparisons between the two, as well as exploring how both are a massive part of her life, is beautiful and introspective. This is one I both learned so much from, related to, and will definitely recommend. ( )

audio nonfiction/memoir (7.5 hours) - genderqueer hijabi she/they who likes women writes about her life before/after immigrating to the US for college and her adult life, along with her feminist interpretation of Quran stories (semi-familiar because of similarities to Old Testament stories) and her experiences with racism, colorism, Islamaphobia, homophobia, etc.

very readable, with excellent narration. Lamya is funny and likeable, and her stories are relatable even if you've never had to navigate a new country as a queer, brown-skinned hijabi. ( )

I thought this would be interesting but it is powerful and beautiful. Lamya H not only addresses the challenge of being butch as a Muslim, but also being a person of color who deals with racism, xenophobia, and yet who chooses to live in love and justice. ( )

Lamya H.'s Hijab Butch Blues is flat out one of the best books I've ever read both in terms of content and the quality of its prose. Lamya H., born in south Asia, raised on the Arabian Peninsula, and now living as an immigrant in the U.S., writes under a pseudonym and leaves locations vague to preserve her anonymity, safety, and family connections. Why? Because as a devout Muslim, a lesbian, and an immigrant she's acutely aware of her tenuous state and aware of the lack of spaces where she can simultaneously exercise her faith and live as her true self.

To those coming from other, less tenuous situations, her need for anonymity may sound exaggerated—but for those who share her experiences and those willing to embrace the truths of her own life as she explains them, her concerns are well-founded. Her prose is both precise and beautiful. She challenges herself with her own thinking every bit as much as she does her readers.

What makes this book so remarkable is Lamya's integrity both as a Muslim trying to create a lens that allows her to see her faith broadly and affirmingly and as a scholar and political thinker aware of the ways colonialism and hierarchies of color shape our world.

The memoir swings, pendulum-like, between her own story and her reflections on the stories at the heart of Islam, stories that shape her understanding of what it means (or can mean) to be female and Muslim. This pairing of personal and theological truths is powerful and respectful of both individual and cultural identity.

If this description makes you think that Hijab Butch Blues will speak to you in remarkable ways, you're right. If this description makes you think that her story may have little to teach you, you're wrong. The carefully documented specifics of her life are what make this book universally essential reading. I'm urging you, if possible, to purchase a copy of this book. Publishers need to see that this is a topic and presentation valued to a wide range of readers. If you can't purchase it, request it now at your local library. We need a world of literature that is as broad as the world in which literature is written.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own. ( )