I wasn’t sure I would be able to read this book but it turned out to be very informative. Not only an insight into the life of a drag queen but the teachings of the Quran also. I felt for the author through all the various phases of his life.

A heartbreakingly honest memoir detailing Al-Kadhi's quest to experience love and acceptance in its purest form, in a world which at every turn rejectes them.

The themes of family, religion, love,money, sex, gender, sexuality, racism, homophobia and mental health run throughout.

I was moved to tears, whilst reading about Al-Khadi's turbulent journey from a painfully anxiety ridden childhood and adolescence all the way through to present day as the Drag Queen persona Glamrou.

Their aching sense to belong and be loved, littered the pages so beautifully. I feel it a honour to be allowed inside Al-Kadhi world.

A massive thank you to @netgalley and @4thestatebooks for sending this to me in return for a honest review.

https://www.instagram.com/walshthereader/?hl=en

A Brave and inspiring book showing the tumultuous journey of Amrou Al-Kadhi from a child in a traditional middle eastern Muslim family to a triumphant Drag artist, and an inspiring and talented writer (if this book is anything to go by).
The writing style is a t once hilarious and engaging, and makes for an emotional read. His struggles with accepting who he is and trying to ‘fit in’ with what his Muslim family and society expect him to be, make for a heart-breaking read and it is little wonder that his mental health suffered. But it is also full of wonderful, hilarious insights and is ultimately a story about the importance of being true to yourself in an often unforgiving world.

An evocative and touching account of a boy coming to terms with the complicated aspects of his life, identity, family and society. I enjoyed the book and also the journey that Amrou undertook to finally find a peace within himself. I would recommend this to anyone interested in learning about the conflicts that arise when our inner and outer worlds are at odds. And how insidious homophobia can be.

I only wish the book were a bit longer and more detailed.

(Review copy from NetGalley)

As funny as it is moving this is a remarkable book by an interesting person who is able to look at their life with empathy, honesty and bravery. So many layers to this book, what it is like to be a Muslim actor especially since 9/11, growing up muslim in a confusing world, realising you are a gay muslim in case the world wasn't confusing enough. As you might expect sometime step story is grim and there is violence and prejudice. Amrou writes honestly about how he navigated this even when it meant throwing people under the bus so he'd have an easier time. There is a wonderful chapter about his 'aquarium' phase where the idea of being a mermaid and how the sea is actually quiet queer was beautiful and magical. The chapters on Eton and Cambridge were a fascinating account of these privileged institutions by someone who was always seen as an outsider because of his ethnicity.

Unicorn is the memoir of Amrou Al-Kadhi, a Muslim drag queen, as the title suggests! It begins with their childhood in a conservative Muslim family and follows them through their life as they learn to reconcile the different facets of their identity, Muslim and queer, through their drag persona, Glamrou.
The writing here is conversational and often funny, but the narrative isn't afraid to explore weighty topics. Al-Kadhi writes about how the intersections of their identity can be simultaneously freeing and restricting, and the fear of having to choose one aspect of oneself over another. Ultimately, the message here is that authenticity doesn't have to come at the expense of acceptance.
A really insightful memoir.

Loved this - more books like this, please! Thanks to the publisher for allowing me to read a book by a non-binary drag queen. How far we've come in a short space of time (though still so much to be done!)

Just turned the last page of this book and have mixed feelings. I loved it to begin with but towards the end found myself skim reading large chunks which allowed me to get the gist of things in order to finish the book. I felt that the author went to far into the religious and political elements towards the last third of the book and I felt preached at instead of being given an insight into his world. This is totally the authors right to do this however, his book, his rules and my choice to read it. The beginning of the book was very interesting, beautifully written with lots of humour on a compelling and heart wrenching topic.

A hard and emotional read, yet strangely joyful too.
The author is absolutely honest and so many times my heart broke for him. But I did enjoy his journey and thought that the reality/hardships were well written and with a dash of spirit.
Many will agree this is an important book and many - anyone who has found themselves on the fringes of society or their families - should find comfort in it.

A heartwarming, tear-jerking book about a subject that you don't really hear about. A great read and I would thoroughly recommend it.

Let's just start off by saying that I am rubbish at make-up. I wear it about 3 or 4 times a year and, even then, you'd probably not notice. I just don't see the point (and I've got used to having slightly bald eyebrows...). I also have real problems with high heels and am inclined to fall off anything higher than an inch or so. I often joke that these are the reasons why I left Essex but they do not prevent me from admiring the artistry (and courage and sheer glory) of drag artists. I've never been on a space-ship but still enjoy science-fiction: I'm not going to allow my tendency to practical footwear and bald brows stop me from appreciating Amrou Al-Kadhi's book, a memoir of a Muslim drag queen.

As a small boy Amrou adored his* beautiful mother and had a happy, privileged and traditionally Islamic life. His twin brother spent more time with their father - they were the family sports fans - but he delighted in watching her chose outfits and make herself presentable in a world that judged people by appearances. But no-one can retain the innocence of early childhood and the family bonds become severely strained by Amrou's developing sexuality, his precocious intelligence and his inability to become the person he is sure his community wants him to be. We follow him through school - where he ends up at Eton in an effort to replace his essential 'arab-ness' with something quintessentially British - and university - where academic excellence is sacrificed on an altar of hedonism. Through it all his joys - in friendships and scholastic achievement - are almost wiped out by self-loathing brought on by the knowledge that his way of life, no, who he really is, is wrong in the eyes of his family, his faith and his community. Drag, however, helps him to realise his worth as a human being and, by the end of the book, to have found acceptance from those who really matter to him.

*I know that I am not using Amrou's preferred they/their pronouns. I have the utmost respect for this but got totally lost on the grammar - a task for me to undertake for the future. Please feel free to offer advice (politely....)

Oh what a joy to read from start to finish. Amrou’s heart ans soul shine throughout. Can we all have them for our best friend?
Fascinating insight into the early life and awakening of identity and the clash with the family ideals and expectatIons. The contrast between the Muslim background and Amrous life now couldn’t be further apart. I felt honoured to be able to hear their story. A must read for everyone to move forward with understanding of lives outside of the “norm”.... whoever decides what that is. A testament to the power of human spirit. Loved it. Read in a day.

This is a heart-breaking but ultimately redemptive story about one person’s long and often tortuous struggle against their culture, race, religion, family and gender expectations, to ultimately become a glorious and joyful fusion of aspects of their past with their new found freedom, at peace with themselves and the world.
The book is told in the first person, and is a very honest and no-holds-barred story of the author’s fight with themselves and with their environment. They are not always a likeable person, but having read the story, you can understand why they acted as they did – even if you may not always approve.
I spent so much of the book being furious at the author’s parents (as did the author!). Even if they did not approve of their lifestyle, why could they not at least say – “we don’t understand you or your life choices, but we will always love you”. The author spent so much of their life feeling alienated by family, religion and the society that they experienced – all they needed was someone(s) to say “I love you” and “you belong”.
Two moments brought tears to my eyes. The first (at the start of the book, but end of the story) when an Arab female, in full Islamic robes, after watching their drag show said:
“Your song to Allah … it broke my heart. I’ve been there – I’m a woman living in Saudi Arabia. But the thing is, Glamrou – Allah loves you”.
The second was when their mother FINALLY sent a message
‘Please take care of yourself habibi. Please. I love you so much.’
That message, and acceptance, finally lead to the author and their mother (whom they had adored as a child) becoming once more reconciled.
The considerable trials and tribulations suffered by the author often hindered them from seeing the world from the point of view of others, in particular their mother’s and other women’s views.
‘Amrou. Amrou. You are so lucky to be a man.’ …‘Do you know what I have had to suffer because I am a woman? Do you know how hard life is as a woman? … Being a woman is hell. And you, my special Amoura, with your special brain, choose to be a woman, even though you are lucky enough to be a man? I don’t understand it.’
I began to understand the lengths to which she had been a victim of the patriarchy, and how my ability to transgress was in her eyes a patriarchal privilege.
This book is not just about becoming a drag queen. It is about loving and accepting yourself, so that others will love and accept you. If you are not able to respect yourself, then you will always be vulnerable to exploitation and abuse – as the author found time after time. But few people can do it alone – most need someone special to encourage them and show them the way – a friend, teacher, a family member … The book also points out the crucial role that positive role models have on a person’s emotional development and maturity. For the author there were none from their race, religion, persuasion etc to latch on to when they needed it. (I kept thinking: what about Grayson Perry, Eddie Izzard, David Bowie, Elton John, Quentin Crisp? – all white, and not all gay. Leo Varadkar is not white, but does not dress in drag). Of course, nowadays with the internet – and Rupaul’s Drag Race – young would-be drag queens and LGBTQ+ persons have a lot of potential role models. But for a young Amrou Al-Kahdi there was no-one.
This is not an easy book, but is a wonderful story to read and absorb - whatever your gender, sexuality, or life-choices.

While I’ve lucked out recently in finding a thriving community vibe for non-binary folk in West Yorkshire, that demographic feels, locally at least, very (though not exclusively) white. I was very glad, therefore, to see this book pop up on my Netgalley feed and give me the opportunity to learn a little about how gender-divergent identities are experienced by those growing up in other cultures. Amrou Al-Kadhi and their twin brother were born in London to Iraqi parents, living in Dubai, then Bahrain and then London again through their childhoods, plenty of scope for culture clashes, particularly given Amrou’s burgeoning sexuality and gender identity.

Having earned their parents’ displeasure by announcing their attraction to boys at the age of ten, Amrou spends the next decade or so struggling to find a place to fit in. Theatre seems to offer a sanctuary; however, the roles on offer are limited by white people’s perceptions of Amrou’s race and heritage. Eventually, while a student at Cambridge, Amrou discovers drag and decides to put on a show with a bunch of like-minded misfits, in spite of having next to no experience or knowledge.

The troupe becomes successful, and Amrou sets off on a whirlwind of adventures, still estranged from their parents and often finding themselves at odds with their heritage and religion. Eventually, both issues are reconciled and Glamrou the performance artist becomes all the stronger for that, as does Amrou themself.

I found a lot to identify with in this book, as well as seeing a lot of familiar situations that I know occur with monotonous regularity for people of colour, especially those in the LGBT+ community. There were times when I was cross with, or fearful for, Amrou as their behaviour got out of control and their coping mechanisms broke down. Overall, though, this was a positive and affirmatory book that made me want to learn more about what the author is doing now. It’s also a book that’s very hard to summarise any better than the blurb manages, so it’s probably best to just take my advice to read it and see what you think.

What a truly individual story. An outstanding insight into religion, race, culture and family life. Being a straight, white, western lady, this book has increased my education exponentially.

Before he ever dreams of performing drag, Amrou has to survive the isolating life of being different.

I received a free copy from Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.

This follows the story of Amrou, a boy who was born in the UK, raised in Iraq, before going to school in London, and can't understand why he doesn't fit in with his father and twin brother, in the strict gender identities imposed by the Muslim community.
Amrou would rather spend time with his glamorous mother, and is entranced by how only art can overcome the normal gender expectations.
Growing up, he has to internalise his gender dysphoria, and attraction to other boys, as it has been made clear that being different is a sin, and he will bring great unhappiness to Allah and his family. This is all compounded by his painfully-self-destructive OCD and anxiety. No matter the outward appearance, of an obedient Muslim son, or a out-and-proud gay man; inwardly there is constant punishment and guilt and doubt.

Amrou's unflinching autobiography is written by someone who is clearly intelligent, and with a good sense of humour. He explains quantum physics and aquarium care with the same openness and ease as Ru Paul and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.
Even as he makes his way and starts to establish his own identity as a gay man and drag sensation, Amrou admits that he isn't perfect. He makes mistakes along the way, sometime hurting friends, but mostly hurting himself.

Despite being judged constantly by everyone around him, Amrou rarely judges others. He accepts their prejudices, the varying levels of racism and homophobic comments. Perhaps because he doesn't know any better, after being brought up to think that he is the faulty individual; or because these people are just people. They are flawed, ignorant, and rude, but they aren't <i>bad</i> people. It's a very sorry reflection on what is still socially-accepted, in the modern UK.

I don't read many memoirs, but I enjoyed this one.
The author isn't a fabulously smooth writer, and their stories do jump about a bit. It's not always the easiest book to delve into, but I liked how it was styled as Amrou telling the stories of his life with self-deprecation and humour, despite the depressing content.

As a parent, I found the author piling blame on his parents hard to handle. He has shown no respect for their culture and beliefs. Very interesting biography though of how difficult it is for a Muslim man to come out. Over long and over written, I personally could have done without the physics lecture. Maybe just not my style of book, but I feel that having monetary support from his parents and not being starved or physically abused, it was over dramatic to identify with ‘A child called It’. I have spent a long time between reading the book and writing this review to assess what I really thought as I don’t like to give negative reviews and I’m sure he has suffered and struggled. This book may give hope to others in the same situation, but to me, it was whinging and self obsessed.

Wow what a read! I thought this looked different and a break from my usual genre. I did not expect such a moving, emotional and funny book. The story of Amrou is both heartbreaking and uplifting. His childhood and teens were spent being told to be someone else. His story is of strength, guilt, family pressure and love. I really enjoyed this story and after reading spent a lot of time on google looking at interviews and videos from this inspirational person.

This book shows us snippets of Amrou's life, giving us the opportunity to see what it was like growing up in the middle east, the relationship with his mother, a rebellion against Islam and how, after struggling to find a place in the world to fit in, finally finding himself to be totally free as Glamrou.
I found this book really moving.

With thanks to the publishers and Netgalley for the Arc, which I have enjoyed reading.
I heard Amrou Al-Kadhi being interviewed on Radio Manchester in October and was so intrigued that I wanted to read his memoirs. The memoirs of a Muslim drag queen are so far away from my own life, yet I found his book absolutely fascinating and so very sad in parts. As a young Muslim child his journey towards adulthood was never going to be easy and as a mother you cringe at times when he is rejected time after time for his efforts to be different. It is only now as an adult that he seems to be able to assimilate all the different parts of his life together and become the person he is today. It is a very honest account of his life so far and I hope that his future will be of someone who feels the love and friendship of the people who inhabit his world.
Highly recommended.