Where do I begin?

I usually rush to write down my review after finishing the books, but with Jarrar's memoir 'Love is an Ex-Country', I needed time to 'digest' her outpour of words, thoughts & feelings, which I still revisit mentally from time to time.

Brilliant, bold, sharp writing that touches upon racism (and passing), Islamophobia, fatphobia, domestic abuse, relationships, sexism, sex & kink, all intrinsically linked with each other. A personal catharsis on so many levels, as many of the identities of the writer, who describes herself as queer, Muslim, Arab American and a proudly fat woman.

The cross-country road trip motif gets a bit lost along the way as the book evolves into a trip down memory lane, with the writer digging as deep as possible and drawing with as much detail as possible of how her past defined Jarrar's understanding of her self.

A lot of readers suggest that the fragmented and somewhat chaotic writing style put them off and/or made them feel that this book did not click with them. Considering that the book was meant to be 'meandering' and disorienting on purpose, its structure and flow adds to the journey through the author's experiences, and highlights how jarring was her experience as a refugee and survivor of assault throughout her life. It only goes to show how reconciling with the past, emancipating ourselves from the expectations & identities others prescribe to us, and finding some form of peace and freedom is never a linear path.

Very insightful & very thought-provoking read - I learned a lot.

Reading the description beforehand, ‘Love is an Ex-Country’ directly appealed to me and my love of stories from the borders of society; the first line of the press release stating ‘Queer. Muslim. Arab American. A proudly fat woman. Randa Jarrar is all of these things.’ After racing through this powerful memoir, I can confirm it certainly met my expectations.
Randa speaks with such confidence and passion of topics such as race, sexuality and parenthood, wrapped around a road trip. It’s bold and vivid, and found this a very interesting read
Thanks to Netgallery and Sandstone Press for the chance to review this advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
‘Love is an Ex-Country’ is released on February 2nd, written by Randa Jarrar.

‘To be Arab in America is to be a mouse unwittingly dunked into a paint pot of invisibility ink’

Love is an Ex-Country by Randa Jarrar is the memoir I live for – incisive, raw, emotionally compelling, embracing vulnerability as a great strength. Being Palestinian American, muslim and queer, Jarrar has a lot to tell about navigating different identities. Having a loose structure based on a travel story, the book, spanning back and forth, addresses a myriad of problems Jarrar had to deal with: abuse, racism, discrimination against obesity. The chosen way to approach these different terrains is to write them in vignettes, spicing it up with some glimpses of humor. This is the reason for which the book might appear a bit incoherent and loafing, but is it easy to talk about harrowing experiences in a linear way? I applaud Jarrar for telling her story her own way. She has an undeniable way with words.

About a third of the way through this book I thought I'd be describing it as disjointed or directionless. Now having finished it, my opinion has shifted more towards it being meandering and non-linear. It's both a memoir and collection of essays, not quite taking you through life as it happened but instead reflecting a life through certain themes.

Randa Jarrar has much to say on an interwoven range of topics: bodies, nationality, sex, parenthood, abuse, religion, race, sexuality. She speaks on each of these with the confidence of deep lived experience which makes a voice like hers so important. I'm reminded of the description that came with the book "Queer. Muslim. Arab American. A proudly Fat woman. Randa Jarrar is all these things." The intersection of all these things is highlighted at almost every moment across the book, at times allowing me to sit with a deep discomfort as perhaps a book like this should.

The writing is strong. Jarrar certainly doesn't shy away from any of the more delicate concepts she writes about and is upfront about her own experiences. I read it over the course of a day and found it hard to put down. Even though each section is a distinct essay, each one flows easily into the next in a way that makes it tricky to stop reading. All that said, some of the essays were stronger than others and my understanding of this collection definitely came from it as an entire piece at the end. The overall ideas come out a little stronger than some of the specific stories Jarrar tells. Overall this comes out at about 3.5 stars, definitely worth a read.

Review also posted on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3799995760. Amazon review to come when the book is eligible.

I read the description before I requested this book. Honest, I did. It said it was about a road trip. Well, shame on me for quite literally expecting a road trip.

The book started by talking about a woman who'd travelled solo through Egypt many years ago. I was still expecting a road trip, but now I was expecting an exotic one. I love a good travelogue.

Boy (or girl or some non-binary term) was I wrong.

Perhaps if I was American, I'd have known who Randa Jarrar is. I had to google her and read about the controversy she caused by tweeting about Barbara Bush. Honestly, flash in the pan sort of stuff. Anybody can accidentally or intentionally be famous for Andy Warhol's 15 minutes with a well crafted offensive tweet about politicians and their entourage these days.

So my big mistakes: 1. expecting a road trip; 2. not knowing who Randa Jarrar is.

I found the book quite well written and I blessed it for only being 240 pages. As an account of a confused but abusive childhood and a tale of repeatedly picking the wrong men who indulged in controlling sexual relationships, it's interesting. But I am left asking myself a lot of questions that I'm not sure I want to think about too much around why women who've been abused then willingly get into consensually abusive acts later in life. The BDSM stuff leaves me cold (at best) and slightly queasy (at worst).

Too much of the book seems to be about trying to shock people. I'm 55. I'm old and 'vanilla' as the author would say. I really wish this had been a fascinating account of a trip alone across a Muslim country. I'd have settled for a road trip around America that was ACTUALLY a road trip. Instead, this is memoir, autobiography, rambling essays recycled from elsewhere and I want to slap (non-consensually) the person who promoted this as something it wasn't.

Jarrar is up front, unashamedly everything she is, happy to shove her life in your face. Does she approve of the mis-promotion of her book? Wouldn't she have written a promotional blurb full of lots of sex in every colour and flavour under the sun?

If you know and like her, read this book. If you haven't the slightest idea who she is (note to self - fame is very localised even in this globally connected world) and you don't like reading about people justifying consensual or non-consensual violence, then stay away. If you're hoping for a female Muslim Michale Palin travelogue, keep on moving down the bus. Nothing to see here.

Thanks to Netgalley and the publishers for an ARC. I'm sure the book will find a cult audience but I won't be in it.

This was a book I was looking forward to reading as it is the memoir of a queer, Muslim, Arab-American woman. The author tells her story of growing up in an abusive household, recounts her experiences of being in abusive and toxic relationships, reflects on her identity as a Palestinian as well as being white passing, and more. Heavy topics including racism, Islamophobia, fatphobia, and domestic abuse are discussed throughout, and it's astounding just how much the author has gone through throughout her life and truly inspiring how she's found her way through it. I particularly admired how she talked so openly and unapologetically about her sexuality, as well as her critiques of fatphobia and her championing of fat acceptance.

However, something about this book just didn't quite click with me (which feels weird to say as it's a memoir). I think perhaps the author's writing style just isn't for me. The way the book is structured and how we learn about different events and aspects of the author's life felt quite fragmented and all over the place. There were parts where I was confused about when in her life she was talking about and sometimes the use of letters in place of people's names got confusing (in particular, how she uses the letter L a lot to refer to different people).

Overall, I admire the author's courage to write such a personal memoir as well as her strength in making it through such awful experiences and, from what it sounds like, finding a form of peace and acceptance at the end, but I didn't quite connect to the story. I think there'll be many people who find this memoir interesting and get something out of it, so I'd encourage you to give it a chance if you're thinking of reading it (particularly if you're of American-Egyptian and/or Palestinian heritage, as books with that kind of representation aren't very common, though not being of either background I can't speak to the quality of the representation).

I received this book free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

REVIEW: Love is an Ex-Country by Randa Jarrar

Described as a memoir of a gay Muslim Arab-American I am not sure I was entirely prepared for the stories about to unfold in Jarrar’s book.

This is bold, truly shocking and at times alarming. There is absolutely no filter applied on this book and it provided quite an internal dilemma. I was scared to keep reading but I also categorically could not stop reading. There were some parts I had to read with my hand over my eyes.

It covers some difficult time periods of her life; physical and emotional abuse, racism, exploration of sexuality and her experiences of being American, Palestinian and neither. The most interesting chapter covered a trip back to visit her sister in Palestine.

I feel this book was an experience and I am conflicted in my overall thoughts, it’s lack of linearity at first confused me but at parts it felt poetic, the honesty of it both captivated and scared me. One thing I am certain of it is a book that will encourage discussion.

Out on 2nd February 2021 thank you for this copy @netgalley and @sandstonepress

3.5 stars rounded up.

Thanks to NetGalley and Sandstone Press for the ARC.

I'm struggling to review this - I hate to give star ratings to memoirs because the feel too personal to rate. I did really enjoy this, and unlike some, I actually like the haphazard, non-linear structure; it kept it fast-paced and punchy. There is a lot to think about with this book! Lots of important topics are explored: intersectional identity, fatphobia, the Israel-Palestine conflict (and what Palestinian identity looks like), sexuality, religion, white supremacy etc. I really liked the way a lot of these were tackled. This book does contain a lot of references to physical and emotional abuse. I've seen some people describe this book as 'torture porn' which I think is unfair - the author has been through a lot of hardship, but there also growing, healing and hope here. Healing and coping are personal - that which is showcased in this memoir may not be the same as others' experiences, but that should not invalidate it. I did really enjoy reading this, I found it refreshing, raw and emotional. However, it lost a lot of momentum in the second half, which is why I've knocked my rating down a bit.

Content warnings: explicit sex, BDSM, abuse (sexual, physical, emotional)

I liked this a lot. It's somewhat frenetic in pace and structure, and can be jarring for this reason, but it worked for me as a stylistic representation both of zipping around the globe, and of the broad range of content addressed.

Jarrar's trauma is viscerally present as a fat queer Arab American Muslim woman throughout, and it is expressed in anger, grief, fear, pride, love, and resilience. One thing I particularly loved was how freely her sexuality is expressed throughout the memoir - my experience of memoirs is that unless they are specifically addressing the writer's sexuality, the subject tends to be elided completely, whereas here it is simply one facet of a rich and complicated life.

The writing is strong, and Jarrar's confidence across a variety of media platforms really comes across. I will definitely be reading more from this author.

Thanks to Sandstone Press and NetGalley for the ARC.

3 stars - an honest queer Muslim memoir, but seemed directionless at times

I was lucky enough to receive an ARC of this book via NetGalley but all opinions are my own

Positives:

- Jarrar doesn't hold back! I enjoyed how she was unapologetic throughout each chapter, and I recognize how this would definitely help empower fellow LGBTQ+ Muslims and those struggling with their faith and sexuality.

- I liked the informal language and tone of the book, as it made me feel like I had a greater understanding of Jarrar's personality.

Negatives:

- The prose itself was often jumpy and lacked direction. It seemed as if Jarrar was trying to explore too many different topics in her anecdotes, which set a very quick 'whirlwind' style pace. To offer more clarity on all these topics, the book should have been longer in my opinion, to bring the reader up to date. For example, I feel I would definitely have enjoyed it more if I had gained a greater understanding of how Jarrar's life has changed now in comparison to when she first came out.

- I think the memoir would have benefitted from more structure, not necessarily chronology, but specific chapters relating to specific topics to make the read more easy to digest. Instead, sexual escapades were trickled into almost every chapter, making the book at times feel somewhat repetitive. Of course this is personal preference!

To conclude...

I liked this book, but I would not rush to recommend it and will not re-read as none of it has 'stuck with me' after reading.

America is an amnesiac.

As I was reading Randa Jarrar’s Love Is An Ex-Country, a friend was texting me to tell me that I needed to watch the news. Something was happening in the USA, and it was big. So, dutifully, I put the book down and switched on the TV to watch those mobs on Capitol Hill. I’ve been avoiding the televised news a lot lately; it doesn’t do me any good to watch the same things being picked over for hours. I read an article and then I’m done. But watching people break into a place of democracy, carrying Confederate flags as though it’s 1865, I thought about Randa Jarrar and her story of finding Confederate flags in a gas station and being given them for free, because the clerk knew that she would go and set them on fire. Somehow, it seemed important for once that I should be watching and witnessing, just as Jarrar knew it was important that she take action too when handed those symbols of hate.

That is the power of Love Is An Ex-Country, with its razor sharp writing. Love Is An Ex-Country is on the surface an unfiltered, raw and honest travelogue memoir; the story of Jarrar’s drive across the USA, sometimes rather meanderingly interspersed with stories and essays about what it means to be a queer, Arab American, Muslim, Fat woman in the USA as it exists now. And how it used to be; there’s plenty about her childhood too. Jarrar has not – to make an understatement – had an easy time of it. Raised by traditional parents, with a father who would beat her, then married to an abuser, these are only a few of the struggles Jarrar has faced. She did not truly believe that she owned her own body until she gave birth to her son during a botched C-section. It always belonged to someone else.

The quote at the top of this review comes from the chapter which discusses the fallout that Jarrar suffered after she tweeted about Barbara Bush following the former First Lady’s death. She discusses it very frankly, in a lot of detail and she does not apologise. I personally don’t believe that she has any reason to, and I’m glad to see that this controversial event hasn’t been glossed over in any way. Just as Jarrar owns the abuse she suffered, she owns this event too. Her critics, were they ever to read this book, would absolutely hate it.

It isn’t just the USA which has broken her heart either. Jarrar, Palestinian on her father’s side, recounts a trip she took to Israel in an attempt to visit her sister. She is an American citizen by birth, and was equipped with the names of many people she could say she was visiting in Israel. But she never made it out of the airport; after hours and hours, she was put back on a flight to the USA, denied entry for the crime of being half Palestinian. This was the story most alien to me. I, of course, will likely never be denied entry to a country based on my nationality or my religion. I picked over the bones of it for a long time, appalled that this is really happening right now, and no one seems to care.

But if Love Is An Ex-Country leaves its readers with one message, it isn’t the one you were expecting. There is fight there, and the will to stand up and argue for yourself, and the idea of living unapologetically. Chapters frankly discussing Jarrar’s queer lifestyle, and her discovery of kink, will be too much for some people, although I’d argue they are just as necessary in outlining how she came to have ownership over herself as the story of her son’s birth was.

But also, through a long-running thread in which Jarrar narrates her relationship with her father, we come to realise that there is a powerful plea for forgiveness and reconciliation too. This can, of course, be extended out to include reconciliation with oneself, and also even further to include society. In such a howl of rage as this memoir is, it is telling that Jarrar does not fail to mention small moments of love and positive action, such as the story of the dairy farmer who put up his property as collateral to pay for the bail of Angela Davis in 1970. They’re tiny, but crucial. Jarrar is, above all else, preaching love – for your body, your sense of self, your country, your people.

There is no hate in this book.

"America is an amnesiac. To be a woman in America, a mother, and a descendent of North Africans and West Asians is to be the opposite of an amnesiac. It is to be reminded in your bones, your muscles, and the twisted strands of your DNA, every moment of every day, of war, of fear, of expulsion, of discrimination, and of others’ fear, dehumanization, and murder, of you and of people like you."
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This book is a whirlwind of events peppered with moments of deep introspection and reflection. Jarrar is at times funny and at times simply real. Her prose is both beautiful and sharp. In one of the chapters, she mentions someone sheherazading her and I sort of felt like she was doing the same. Each chapter of her road trip reads almost like a photograph of her life at that moment. She does not spare anyone. From immigration to racism and sexuality, she bares it all in the most vivid way.
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I would say this book is quite provocative to my greatest delight, however, it is not for the faint of heart, nor the squeamish. You have to brace for it. It is vivid, vibrant and oh so powerful. She is unapologetically bold and shocking. You will love her for it.
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~ #fridayinaprilbookreviews
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I voluntarily read and reviewed an advanced copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own. Thank you to @netgalley and @sandstonepress for this eARC.

This is a hugely important memoir, from an author with a vivid and vital voice. Randa Jarrar's story is at once intensely relatable and fiercely educational. I have never experienced domestic abuse, racism, or immigration, but found the sections regarding bodies and sexuality heart-wrenchingly close to home. And the experiences I cannot specifically relate to I can only assume are related just as authentically, they certainly read as such.

The structure of loosely following a road trip whilst bringing in memories and themes took me a little while to get used to, but in the end makes the memoir feel more conversational, and brings the narrative voice entirely to life. I did have to flip back and forth a bit to connect characters together, perhaps made slightly harder by the use of initials rather than names, but this didn't detract from the reading experience.

It felt a privilege to read this, and I would recommend it to any adult person.

I will be adding this review to my instagram shortly: @ashcarterbookcase

Bold and unapologetic - complete “no f**ks given” vibes from the author which I thought was so refreshing. It did take a while to adjust to what initially felt like broken/scattergun storytelling. It later felt quite fitting given her story and eventually the intentional break off from a natural flow made a lot of sense to me. I truly wish I had it in me to school racists/narrow-minded folk the way the author has done in her life!

Full review post here: https://www.instagram.com/p/CI6aV5AAW6f/?igshid=dey3hh15n22o

I was so excited to read this book. It wasn’t quite what I expected and there were points where I was a little confused. Still enjoyed it though.

Thanks to Sandstone Press via NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

I went into this book expecting a travelogue of sorts, a kind of linear journey through the US during the 2016 election year threaded together with a mix of personal memoir and social commentary. This happened in parts, but Randa Jarrar also expands her geographical focus. She takes us to a holiday she has in a small Tunisian village by the sea, after attending a literature festival, where she walks through the streets feeling freedom in her Proudly Fat, Queer, Arab American body. On another journey to her father’s homeland, Palestine, she is stopped at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv and denied entry.

Time moves backwards and forwards. We learn about her upbringing and how she replaces the violence enacted by her father to that of her first lover/husband/father to her son. Jarrar writes unapologetically and with searing honesty. She doesn’t sugar-coat her language, which may cause some discomfort. I found the chapters on how she is often mistaken for white and the conversations strangers have with her in this ‘confidence’ before she confronts them with their overt racism to be particularly insightful. As were the chapters on kink vs vanilla sex and Jarrar’s theory that the latter is more dangerous because boundaries and consent are never discussed beforehand. I wonder if she has written anymore on this elsewhere because I would be really interested in reading it.

It was only when certain events or phrases were mirrored word for word, almost, that I realised some of these chapters once existed as separate entities in essay form. This was corroborated when I got to the end of the ebook and saw the list of where some chapters had been published previously. This made so much sense because most of the way through I was trying to wrap my head around the ordering/timeline of events and how they related to the physical journey Jarrar was making through the US. The chapters didn’t always link and time, as well as subject matter, often jumped around. Nevertheless, my interest has been piqued with Love Is an Ex-Country and I would attempt reading another book by Randa Jarrar.

This book a memoir of the life that the protagonist had growing up in America as an Arab woman suffering from a childhood and adulthood of abuse. I feel as though, with every chapter, I grew outraged with different situations this woman has had to deal with. Racism. Sexism. Slut-shaming. Fat-shaming. Child abuse. Domestic abuse. It goes on, but it also shows how strong she is, dealing with all of this, raising her son and taking a trip across America with her dog and sharing the experiences she faces along the way.

This book is quite a short read and at times the story line seems quite scattered, jumping from paragraph to paragraph, which I think added to the writers character, but just wasn’t for me. It’s also a very sexual book, it discusses sexuality quite a lot in the latter half of the book which I wasn’t entirely prepared for.

In the end I’m not entirely sure what I thought about this book, it wasn’t really what I expected it to but I still think I found it interesting to read.

Loved it! It's loud, proud, and just brilliantly full of life. Can't wait for more readers to get their hands on it so I can talk about it.