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Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion
For readers of On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous and My Brilliant Friend, Bushra Rehman's Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion is an unforgettable story about female friendship and queer love in a Muslim-American community.
Razia Mirza grows up amid the wild grape vines and backyard sunflowers of Corona, Queens, with her best friend, Saima, by her side. When a family rift drives the girls apart, Razia’s heart is broken. She finds solace in Taslima, a new girl in her close-knit Pakistani-American community. They embark on a series of small rebellions: listening to scandalous music, wearing miniskirts, and cutting school to explore the city.
When Razia is accepted to Stuyvesant, a prestigious high school in Manhattan, the gulf between the person she is and the daughter her parents want her to be, widens. At Stuyvesant, Razia meets Angela and is attracted to her in a way that blossoms into a new understanding. When their relationship is discovered by an Aunty in the community, Razia must choose between her family and her own future.
Punctuated by both joy and loss, full of ’80s music and beloved novels, Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion is a new classic: a fiercely compassionate coming-of-age story of a girl struggling to reconcile her heritage and faith with her desire to be true to herself.
Razia Mirza grows up amid the wild grape vines and backyard sunflowers of Corona, Queens, with her best friend, Saima, by her side. When a family rift drives the girls apart, Razia’s heart is broken. She finds solace in Taslima, a new girl in her close-knit Pakistani-American community. They embark on a series of small rebellions: listening to scandalous music, wearing miniskirts, and cutting school to explore the city.
When Razia is accepted to Stuyvesant, a prestigious high school in Manhattan, the gulf between the person she is and the daughter her parents want her to be, widens. At Stuyvesant, Razia meets Angela and is attracted to her in a way that blossoms into a new understanding. When their relationship is discovered by an Aunty in the community, Razia must choose between her family and her own future.
Punctuated by both joy and loss, full of ’80s music and beloved novels, Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion is a new classic: a fiercely compassionate coming-of-age story of a girl struggling to reconcile her heritage and faith with her desire to be true to herself.
276 pages, Hardcover
First published December 6, 2022
About the author
Bushra Rehman
23 books168 followers Bushra Rehman grew up in Corona, Queens but her mother says she was born in an ambulance flying through the streets of Brooklyn. This would explain a few things. Bushra was a vagabond poet who traveled for years with nothing more than a Greyhound ticket and a book bag full of poems.
Her first novel Corona, a poetic on-the-road adventure about being South-Asian in the United States, was chosen by the NY Public Library as one of its favorite novels about NYC. She’s co-editor of Colonize This! Young Women of Color on Today’s Feminism and author of the collection of poetry Marianna’s Beauty Salon, described by Joseph O. Legaspi as “a love poem for Muslim girls, Queens, and immigrants making sense of their foreign home--and surviving.” Rehman’s next novel Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion which centers around the idea of friendship and queer desire is forthcoming from Flatiron Books.
Her first novel Corona, a poetic on-the-road adventure about being South-Asian in the United States, was chosen by the NY Public Library as one of its favorite novels about NYC. She’s co-editor of Colonize This! Young Women of Color on Today’s Feminism and author of the collection of poetry Marianna’s Beauty Salon, described by Joseph O. Legaspi as “a love poem for Muslim girls, Queens, and immigrants making sense of their foreign home--and surviving.” Rehman’s next novel Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion which centers around the idea of friendship and queer desire is forthcoming from Flatiron Books.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 669 reviews
December 28, 2022
I loved this book so much I picked it for the Fantastic Strangelings Book Club. Beautiful and heart-breaking. It ended too soon.
February 6, 2023
Thank you NetGally, Bushra Rehman, and MacMillan Audio for an advanced audio copy of this beautiful book.
New York back drops ROSES, IN THE MOUTH OF A LION by Bushra Rehman, a story about young girls' friendship bearing up (or not) under the strain of expectation, family life and love for Islam, a misfit in a new country finding her own country, and a fight for first romance. ROSES is quiet, but ferocious -- I found it utterly unpredictable and I was on the edge of my seat while I read.
ROSES, IN THE MOUTH OF A LION by Bushra Rehman is a book I will struggle to describe further without ruining it for you. This is because it is a story that depends at least in part on surprise, or more generally than that even, on form, for its potency and effect. So I won't ruin this beautiful book for you in this way.
I love stories of forbidden identities in traditional spaces, stories of how they subsumed those spaces or broke free or both. I loved this book about books, music, and girls trying to be more than they were told they could be. I've decided one of the things I love about young contemporary literary writers is their optimism, and how they handle an ending. I felt so many things while reading this book, but in the end, it was a complete joy to read.
If you enjoy audiobooks, I heartily recommend that version, which is narrated by Bushra Rehman herself. The telling and story together are a treasure.
Rating 🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁/5
Finished November 2022
Read this if you like or are interested in:
🙍♀️ Girls' coming of age stories
👭 Girls' friendships
🌈 Young queer relationships and characters
🧕 Muslim women and girl characters
🎛 80s books and culture
🛍 Clothes and fashion
🌆 New York
🛩 Immigrants or immigration
New York back drops ROSES, IN THE MOUTH OF A LION by Bushra Rehman, a story about young girls' friendship bearing up (or not) under the strain of expectation, family life and love for Islam, a misfit in a new country finding her own country, and a fight for first romance. ROSES is quiet, but ferocious -- I found it utterly unpredictable and I was on the edge of my seat while I read.
ROSES, IN THE MOUTH OF A LION by Bushra Rehman is a book I will struggle to describe further without ruining it for you. This is because it is a story that depends at least in part on surprise, or more generally than that even, on form, for its potency and effect. So I won't ruin this beautiful book for you in this way.
I love stories of forbidden identities in traditional spaces, stories of how they subsumed those spaces or broke free or both. I loved this book about books, music, and girls trying to be more than they were told they could be. I've decided one of the things I love about young contemporary literary writers is their optimism, and how they handle an ending. I felt so many things while reading this book, but in the end, it was a complete joy to read.
If you enjoy audiobooks, I heartily recommend that version, which is narrated by Bushra Rehman herself. The telling and story together are a treasure.
Rating 🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁/5
Finished November 2022
Read this if you like or are interested in:
🙍♀️ Girls' coming of age stories
👭 Girls' friendships
🌈 Young queer relationships and characters
🧕 Muslim women and girl characters
🎛 80s books and culture
🛍 Clothes and fashion
🌆 New York
🛩 Immigrants or immigration
March 9, 2023
A tender and nuanced coming of age story in 1980s Queens. The voice of narrator Razia is enchanting and humorous. She portrays a completely genuine struggle between being who we want to be, and who we are expected to be, and the wild journey of self discovery that is equal parts painful and joyous, tense and gratifying. This is a story that is big hearted, filled with courage, poise, and honesty. Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion is a wonderfully intimate exploration of stepping into one’s truth, which holds an incredibly vibrant encouragement to defend dreams and the right to be unapologetically oneself.
November 16, 2022
A character-driven coming-of-age story set in a Pakistani community in Queens. The characters and community are so well drawn that we understand well where Razia and her family fit within it. This is a child-of-immigrants story where the parents are all still very tied up with their home country, and to the American-born children Pakistan can feel like a threat or a dream depending on what they want from their lives. The setting is also richly drawn, as is the time period of 80's Corona.
This is a novel about the discovery of queer desire but it takes a while to get there. (Like at least 2/3 of the way there.) I didn't mind the wait, it feels true to life for many queer girls, the way there are small things all around you before you realize the truth about yourself.
While the happenings of the book are mostly the small rebellions of Razia and her friends and their repercussions with their parents, I found this very readable. Sometimes you don't really need a lot of plot because you enjoy spending time with the characters.
I can be very critical of novels that take on both queerness and religion, but I have no complaints here. Rehman sees Razia as a devout girl for much of her life, and even when she begins to encounter conflict between her Muslim beliefs and the world she wants to be a part of, it is not a simple choice. There are so many bigger questions she must answer along the way. Sometimes the decision isn't yours at all, it is made for you. The consequences feel real without feeling like Razia is lashing out against her family or her faith. The tricky path of being a faithful girl in a patriarchal religion is not so simple, Razia pushes against it but she often accepts it, there is push and pull, there is love and frustration. It is never just as simple as conflict, never a black and white.
I read the audiobook, which is read by the author, one of my favorites. She was a better-than-average author reader, definitely worth while.
This is a novel about the discovery of queer desire but it takes a while to get there. (Like at least 2/3 of the way there.) I didn't mind the wait, it feels true to life for many queer girls, the way there are small things all around you before you realize the truth about yourself.
While the happenings of the book are mostly the small rebellions of Razia and her friends and their repercussions with their parents, I found this very readable. Sometimes you don't really need a lot of plot because you enjoy spending time with the characters.
I can be very critical of novels that take on both queerness and religion, but I have no complaints here. Rehman sees Razia as a devout girl for much of her life, and even when she begins to encounter conflict between her Muslim beliefs and the world she wants to be a part of, it is not a simple choice. There are so many bigger questions she must answer along the way. Sometimes the decision isn't yours at all, it is made for you. The consequences feel real without feeling like Razia is lashing out against her family or her faith. The tricky path of being a faithful girl in a patriarchal religion is not so simple, Razia pushes against it but she often accepts it, there is push and pull, there is love and frustration. It is never just as simple as conflict, never a black and white.
I read the audiobook, which is read by the author, one of my favorites. She was a better-than-average author reader, definitely worth while.
August 13, 2023
Vivid, immersive storytelling. Lyrical prose. Razia was such a compelling, rich character, and her coming of age story as a queer young woman in the Pakistani Muslim community in late 1980's Corona Queens took me through the gamut of feelings. I loved how Bushra Rehman represented so many complex relationships: between the women in Razia's community, between Razia and her faith, between Razia's ache to be out and her fear of isolation that might come of it, between who Razia had known her self as a girl and the woman that she realized she'd become, that she wanted to keep becoming. Highly recommend.
Content notes: religious prejudice and intolerance, violence as a result of that prejudice and intolerance (mentioned, not portrayed on page), harm to an animal (brief, on page), misogyny (on page), domestic abuse (brief, on page), queerphobia (on page), being outed (on page), sexual harassment of minors (on page, described in euphemism), strained family relationship (on page).
Content notes: religious prejudice and intolerance, violence as a result of that prejudice and intolerance (mentioned, not portrayed on page), harm to an animal (brief, on page), misogyny (on page), domestic abuse (brief, on page), queerphobia (on page), being outed (on page), sexual harassment of minors (on page, described in euphemism), strained family relationship (on page).
May 1, 2024
What a quietly beautiful and powerful queer coming of age novel set in a 1980s Pakistani American community in the Corona neighbourhood of Queens, NY. Told in vignettes, the story follows Razia as she makes and loses friends, participates in family and community Muslim events, and eventually falls in love with Angela, a high school classmate. You can see the climax coming, which makes Razia's separation from her family, community, and only world she's ever known that much more heartbreaking, because you know them all so well. Highly recommended!
September 23, 2022
DNF - TW: animal death
I had to stop reading this after roughly 100 pages because I couldn’t get over a disturbing animal death in the beginning portions of the novel.
I am very sensitive to any animal deaths, but specifically gruesome ones involving cats. My opinions about the rest of the book were tainted from that point on and I didn’t feel like finishing it.
For the record, the writing is good and it’s becoming a good coming of age story. But I can’t appreciate it after that specific scene.
I had to stop reading this after roughly 100 pages because I couldn’t get over a disturbing animal death in the beginning portions of the novel.
I am very sensitive to any animal deaths, but specifically gruesome ones involving cats. My opinions about the rest of the book were tainted from that point on and I didn’t feel like finishing it.
For the record, the writing is good and it’s becoming a good coming of age story. But I can’t appreciate it after that specific scene.
July 11, 2023
this felt like a house on mango street clone.
December 7, 2022
This unique and touching coming of age story lies at the intersection of so many identities: class, race, immigration and assimilation, sexuality.
The story follows Razia, a young Pakistani American teen growing up in the Corona neighborhood of Queens in the 1980s. At the start of the novel she and her friends are insulated in the bubble of their neighborhood, and then as time passes friendships are shaken, lives diverge and reconverge, teens rebel, and the girls do their best to navigate their ever-expanding world as they realize they aren't aren't same as their parents, as those who grew up back in Pakistan. In many ways their lives are clearly worse: living in slums, struggling to survive, surrounded by concrete. They endure this for the promise of more freedom and more opportunity, yet their parents struggle to allow that freedom out of fear.
I really enjoyed the writing, which was beautiful and tender at times, quippy at others, and solemn when it needed to be. The author captured quite a lot of nuance, which I appreciated. One spoiler-free example is the way the yards are described in Corona. The initial descriptions tell us that the old Italian inhabitants kept beautiful flower gardens that they tended meticulously. When the Pakistani families moved in they stopped gardening, and the yards became overgrown and wild. At first it is framed as a negative, an explanation for why the old Italian neighbors disliked them. But later Razia notes that in Pakistan the natural growth was beautiful, unencumbered, and free. That was what their parents knew their whole lives, so they had no reason to think they should change now.
One thing that I would note is that there wasn't really one central plot/conflict running through, and it felt almost like a collection of short stories that converged into a climax at the end. I enjoyed all of the stories and they all had an important role to play in understanding Razia and her family, friends, and community.
This was a really enjoyable read overall, and one I'll definitely be recommending.
Thanks to Netgalley and Flatiron Books for this ARC to read and review.
The story follows Razia, a young Pakistani American teen growing up in the Corona neighborhood of Queens in the 1980s. At the start of the novel she and her friends are insulated in the bubble of their neighborhood, and then as time passes friendships are shaken, lives diverge and reconverge, teens rebel, and the girls do their best to navigate their ever-expanding world as they realize they aren't aren't same as their parents, as those who grew up back in Pakistan. In many ways their lives are clearly worse: living in slums, struggling to survive, surrounded by concrete. They endure this for the promise of more freedom and more opportunity, yet their parents struggle to allow that freedom out of fear.
I really enjoyed the writing, which was beautiful and tender at times, quippy at others, and solemn when it needed to be. The author captured quite a lot of nuance, which I appreciated. One spoiler-free example is the way the yards are described in Corona. The initial descriptions tell us that the old Italian inhabitants kept beautiful flower gardens that they tended meticulously. When the Pakistani families moved in they stopped gardening, and the yards became overgrown and wild. At first it is framed as a negative, an explanation for why the old Italian neighbors disliked them. But later Razia notes that in Pakistan the natural growth was beautiful, unencumbered, and free. That was what their parents knew their whole lives, so they had no reason to think they should change now.
One thing that I would note is that there wasn't really one central plot/conflict running through, and it felt almost like a collection of short stories that converged into a climax at the end. I enjoyed all of the stories and they all had an important role to play in understanding Razia and her family, friends, and community.
This was a really enjoyable read overall, and one I'll definitely be recommending.
Thanks to Netgalley and Flatiron Books for this ARC to read and review.
January 2, 2023
I loved it but the ending was so unsatisfying to me!! Still giving it 5 stars, a really beautiful book
August 2, 2024
3.75 stars
Thank you to NetGalley and Flatiron books for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!
Roses in the Mouth of a Lion follows the story of Razia Mirza, a young Pakistani girl growing up in Queens discovering who she is and how she fits into the world - both her world in Queens surrounded by her family and the world outside of her borough.
I loved thew New York references! Corona is a place I spent a lot of time growing up in so seeing places like Junction being mentioned in a story was really really captivating to me!
I believe this book is incorrectly classified as General Fiction. I think it was more of a new adult/YA novel as it followed Razia only throughout her youth. I also wasn’t super fond of the pace of the writing, with it going slow slow slow until the end. The description of the book markets the plot point of Razia choosing between her family and who she is & wants to be is only carried out through the last few pages of the book. I did like the ambiguous ending (reminded me of Triple Dog Dare by Lucy Dacus [nothing worse could happen now …]). It was interesting to leave it to the reader to decide how Razia’s life would play out with the decision she seemed to make at the end - did it work? Is she happy? How has her life developed? I’m going to choose the optimistic route…
Queer stories are all too often painted with so much grief and that’s what turned me off from this one. I do think the story is all too real and I (unfortunately) did see so much truth behind what happened in it. However, I think painting Islam as this backwards religion that is harmful can ultimately be more damaging than good. I also just did not like that there was another white love interest. Razia telling Angela she doesn’t get it because she’s white and Angela unironically saying she is not white she is “Italian and Greek”, AND razia ending up feeling bad for her … !!!!! Razia was right, the experience of queer POC will never EVER be the same as that of white people. I feel like it might’ve been so much more interesting to have Razia with another POC to explore the complexities of those relationships.
Overall, this story was a decent coming of age-type novel. I had my issues with it, but it was a good read and I did really enjoy the ambiguous ending.
Thank you to NetGalley and Flatiron books for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!
Roses in the Mouth of a Lion follows the story of Razia Mirza, a young Pakistani girl growing up in Queens discovering who she is and how she fits into the world - both her world in Queens surrounded by her family and the world outside of her borough.
I loved thew New York references! Corona is a place I spent a lot of time growing up in so seeing places like Junction being mentioned in a story was really really captivating to me!
I believe this book is incorrectly classified as General Fiction. I think it was more of a new adult/YA novel as it followed Razia only throughout her youth. I also wasn’t super fond of the pace of the writing, with it going slow slow slow until the end. The description of the book markets the plot point of Razia choosing between her family and who she is & wants to be is only carried out through the last few pages of the book. I did like the ambiguous ending (reminded me of Triple Dog Dare by Lucy Dacus [nothing worse could happen now …]). It was interesting to leave it to the reader to decide how Razia’s life would play out with the decision she seemed to make at the end - did it work? Is she happy? How has her life developed? I’m going to choose the optimistic route…
Queer stories are all too often painted with so much grief and that’s what turned me off from this one. I do think the story is all too real and I (unfortunately) did see so much truth behind what happened in it. However, I think painting Islam as this backwards religion that is harmful can ultimately be more damaging than good. I also just did not like that there was another white love interest. Razia telling Angela she doesn’t get it because she’s white and Angela unironically saying she is not white she is “Italian and Greek”, AND razia ending up feeling bad for her … !!!!! Razia was right, the experience of queer POC will never EVER be the same as that of white people. I feel like it might’ve been so much more interesting to have Razia with another POC to explore the complexities of those relationships.
Overall, this story was a decent coming of age-type novel. I had my issues with it, but it was a good read and I did really enjoy the ambiguous ending.
March 22, 2023
Absolutely slayed
February 9, 2023
i’d follow razia anywhere :’)
January 12, 2024
The premise of this was extremely appealing but the execution left much to be desired. The pacing REALLY affected the story and my overall enjoyment. The story follows Razia, a Pakistani Muslim girl, growing up in Queens in the 80s through the trials and tribulations of friendships, family, love, and loss.
Loved:
🌹 Pakistan rep
🌹 Muslim American rep
🌹 immigrant experience
🌹 accurate family relationships
🌹 memories are short segues into Razia’s mind/memory at that age
Disliked:
🥀 PACING
🥀 queer rep poorly executed
🥀 unresolved storylines
🥀rushed ending
🥀 another white partner
🥀 lack of depth and exploration of the complex relationships
I would recommend this to someone who enjoys a very slow paced read, but otherwise I was left very disappointed. Thanks to Flatiron books and NetGalley for providing this ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Loved:
🌹 Pakistan rep
🌹 Muslim American rep
🌹 immigrant experience
🌹 accurate family relationships
🌹 memories are short segues into Razia’s mind/memory at that age
Disliked:
🥀 PACING
🥀 queer rep poorly executed
🥀 unresolved storylines
🥀rushed ending
🥀 another white partner
🥀 lack of depth and exploration of the complex relationships
I would recommend this to someone who enjoys a very slow paced read, but otherwise I was left very disappointed. Thanks to Flatiron books and NetGalley for providing this ARC in exchange for my honest review.
January 9, 2023
Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion takes you along Razia’s mishaps, adventures, puberty, adolescence, curiosities & friendships from the summer of 85’ to the summer of 89’ in Corona, Queens. The chapters read as vignettes and left me wanting more. I recommend going into this one blind and skipping the synopsis. Where I admired the queer Pakistani rep, in which I knowwwww is going to speak volumes for this community, it just fell a little flat and the ending was hella rushed.
Still recommend picking this one up! Especially if you are a late 80’s early 90’s kid, you’ll geek out/lol when you read the reference to the ridiculous soap opera Days of our Lives 😂
Still recommend picking this one up! Especially if you are a late 80’s early 90’s kid, you’ll geek out/lol when you read the reference to the ridiculous soap opera Days of our Lives 😂
June 21, 2024
I liked the first half of this book. It felt reminiscent of The House on Mango Street in that it felt more like a collection of vignettes bound by a neighborhood in evocative poetic language that brought a languid sweltering summer to mind than a novel. For its first half, it felt both time-bound and timeless. My only complaint was that I wished diaspora fiction understood that class was an integral part of how it experienced its construct of 'Pakistaniyat' and interrogated that, instead of simply relating all traumas to nationality. I understand that the US flattens all immigrants until they're only their nationality (and monolithic representations instead of people often resisting their home country's homogenizing state project) but I expect the descendants to be more rigorous and critical and to not regurgitate that kind of imperialism.
I wish diaspora fiction reflected on middle-class morality, colonialism, ethnicity (Pakistani diaspora fiction features almost no mention of ethnicity ever), caste, color, etc., instead of simply attributing everything their parents did to one structural force: being Pakistani. I wish it interrogated the characters’ racialization, especially as they grew older and learned their history. I want it to have arcs where characters question lies their parents spun about what it meant to be 'truly Pakistani' to justify their brutality and making it sound as though tyranny was innate to them. Part of your reflection and growth should involve questioning your parents’ construction of your identity by learning your history.
The characters’ races are mainly arbitrarily noted. Some are Dominican while others are just Spanish speaking. Ed is straight-up Korean in a first impression but Angela is described as Greek in a roundabout way.
For the first half, I was only mildly concerned the story doesn’t interrogate how diaspora kids orientalize Pakistan and act like it’s the same everywhere when their parents have been influenced by one very specific neighborhood and time and only passed that on. But I was willing to overlook it. No writing project is perfect.
That goodwill evaporated entirely by the second half.
The second half reads less like a snapshot recollection of memories and more like chapters of a whole story, speeding up for the central conflict to be fantastically (as in a proper fantasy) to be resolved in basically a chapter. The author seemed to rush because you would see all the massive holes in the fairy-tale ending if you lingered long enough to peer closely. This is not a burden I would place on this specific story's shoulder but I do wish that Muslim queer fiction would tackle this better, especially because it could be a blueprint for someone to replicate in real life. I think doing the 'parents accept me!' or this oversimplifies the conflict, which is usually won by lying through your teeth as you grow up, accumulating power and establishing independence over years.
But that didn’t kill my goodwill. I still feel irrational for having this response and am wondering if I should just take the review down. What killed my goodwill were the essentialist myths about 'Pakistani people', about how 'Pakistani people don't smile' and how 'young women from Pakistan were much smarter than [diaspora girls], more able to navigate the ways of the world, or at least the ways of the Pakistani people'. Isn't it nice to be hit with an age-old orientalist myth about the worldliness of Old World women and the innocent naivete of those in the New? Just when you're trying to have a good time?
The only two Pakistanis from back home in the story are both enforcers of patriarchy defined only in relation to the men in their lives. They obey mindlessly, unlike the younger diaspora girls. This is about the younger of the two, the Hafiz Saab's wife. All the other references to Pakistanis back in the homeland frame them as another burden: greedy families who just want gifts from returning expats, backward know-nothings who think all diaspora Pakistanis 'live in a mansion' when they ask to stay in their relatives' homes, and brown predator men (of course) who heartlessly want a green card and prey on younger girls.
Don't you love reading fiction that degrades you like you'd never pick it up and find out? It's like walking in on people bitching about you except they don't stop. Isn't it wonderful to see yourself being the fob or bogeyman in diaspora writers' stories, as if you're not fleeing the same fate as them? I understand that the character is just a child who doesn't know any better but a character can still be held accountable by the narration, IF the narration knows better. In this case, I did not feel like the narration cared about the harm it was perpetuating.
Is Dur e Aziz Amna the only Pakistani diaspora writer with any reflexivity? Who understands that becoming a nationality is a project of alienation that people fight? Is she the only one who can see how both Pakistan and the U.S. alienate their subjects and subjugated and that people are often caught in the middle, miserable with both? Do diaspora writers realize they can be unhappy with both their nationalities? Do they realize we're unhappy too?
2 weeks ago, I excitedly talked to my roommate about the possibilities of diasporic South Asian queer fiction, which would not have to go up against the same socioeconomic and legal constraints as us, how they could inject fresh life into languages. I am no longer hopeful.
I feel at fault for expecting reflexivity and thoughtfulness from people so obsessed with their own alienation that they never think of those they alienate. Are Pakistanis back home supposed to read this and not be appalled by their characterization not as actual people but as a specter that always haunts the diaspora, that they can project their worst fears onto? Why do diaspora writers refuse to be considerate enough to contextualize their diaspora-ification as a project of alienation and separation that hurts us too?
Most publication opportunities available to immigrants cater to Americanized descendants and it's mind-boggling to see how many of those descendants are happy not knowing anything about their parents' country. How can you only fuel American cultural stereotypes about a minority population, stereotypes that affect the most powerless and never the people you actually want to hurt? You internalize American imperialism and strip non-citizens of their voices and autonomy all over again, by condemning them to be only specters and not full people who challenge your self-centered perception of the world and of suffering.
You are not curious about the neighborhoods your parents come from, the languages and dialects they speak, the families that shaped their cultural imagination. You cannot individuate between them and see how they weaponize larger ideological narratives to disguise their own personal agendas. You believe them when they say this is what it means to be Pakistani and you say our invisibilized bodies are wardens too, when we’re prisoners like you. Pakistan is a threat for diaspora kids, sure, but there’s no thought spared for the millions of women back home, stuck with the men these same kids fear. The only suffering that matters structurally is the diaspora girl’s and it’s never placed in a lineage. Do you not think we're also not threatened with 'returns'? Why do we become the enactors of the same fate we fear? Because you can't imagine anyone except you suffering?
When you say Pakistanis back home believe everyone lives in mansions, you haven't paid enough attention to how expats often lie about their financial circumstances to not trouble their own parents or to play up their seniority/authority in family relations. When you think they only want extravagant gifts, you ignore how the cost is repaid in the free board, food and transport provided for the long stays during vacations back home. You know only one side of the story and I am so profoundly disappointed in the utter lack of interest in knowing more. These relations are maintained for strategic reasons. If you want to write about them, start asking questions.
If you wish to actually critique 'Pakistani' cultural norms, you would study enough history to realize that seeing it as a monolithic entity serves ITS purpose and not yours. If you believe in its lie of hegemony and sameness and don't see it as a violent state project that people resist and redefine all the time, you give it what it wants. There is no Pakistani and those within its borders all differ from each other. Many don't even want to be here.
The longer I stay in the US, the more I see how little diaspora descendants care to establish relations with newly arrived immigrants like them: not to hear alternate histories to decode the cultural silences in their household, to learn/renew the language, to have a cultural community outside their families, to be challenged on their American imperialism and cultural fragility soothed only by being the only experts/narrators/vanguards of their identity.
I’m sick and tired of the selfishness of diaspora literature and for the essentialist myths it constructs about us without us. You could choose to see solidarity in our struggles but you can't even see struggles beyond your own. There can be no headway in the diaspora (in their politics, in their art, in community and personhood) if their entire sense of politics is the way they’ve been failed and nothing about how they’ve failed others.
I wish diaspora fiction reflected on middle-class morality, colonialism, ethnicity (Pakistani diaspora fiction features almost no mention of ethnicity ever), caste, color, etc., instead of simply attributing everything their parents did to one structural force: being Pakistani. I wish it interrogated the characters’ racialization, especially as they grew older and learned their history. I want it to have arcs where characters question lies their parents spun about what it meant to be 'truly Pakistani' to justify their brutality and making it sound as though tyranny was innate to them. Part of your reflection and growth should involve questioning your parents’ construction of your identity by learning your history.
The characters’ races are mainly arbitrarily noted. Some are Dominican while others are just Spanish speaking. Ed is straight-up Korean in a first impression but Angela is described as Greek in a roundabout way.
For the first half, I was only mildly concerned the story doesn’t interrogate how diaspora kids orientalize Pakistan and act like it’s the same everywhere when their parents have been influenced by one very specific neighborhood and time and only passed that on. But I was willing to overlook it. No writing project is perfect.
That goodwill evaporated entirely by the second half.
The second half reads less like a snapshot recollection of memories and more like chapters of a whole story, speeding up for the central conflict to be fantastically (as in a proper fantasy) to be resolved in basically a chapter. The author seemed to rush because you would see all the massive holes in the fairy-tale ending if you lingered long enough to peer closely. This is not a burden I would place on this specific story's shoulder but I do wish that Muslim queer fiction would tackle this better, especially because it could be a blueprint for someone to replicate in real life. I think doing the 'parents accept me!' or this oversimplifies the conflict, which is usually won by lying through your teeth as you grow up, accumulating power and establishing independence over years.
But that didn’t kill my goodwill. I still feel irrational for having this response and am wondering if I should just take the review down. What killed my goodwill were the essentialist myths about 'Pakistani people', about how 'Pakistani people don't smile' and how 'young women from Pakistan were much smarter than [diaspora girls], more able to navigate the ways of the world, or at least the ways of the Pakistani people'. Isn't it nice to be hit with an age-old orientalist myth about the worldliness of Old World women and the innocent naivete of those in the New? Just when you're trying to have a good time?
The only two Pakistanis from back home in the story are both enforcers of patriarchy defined only in relation to the men in their lives. They obey mindlessly, unlike the younger diaspora girls. This is about the younger of the two, the Hafiz Saab's wife. All the other references to Pakistanis back in the homeland frame them as another burden: greedy families who just want gifts from returning expats, backward know-nothings who think all diaspora Pakistanis 'live in a mansion' when they ask to stay in their relatives' homes, and brown predator men (of course) who heartlessly want a green card and prey on younger girls.
Don't you love reading fiction that degrades you like you'd never pick it up and find out? It's like walking in on people bitching about you except they don't stop. Isn't it wonderful to see yourself being the fob or bogeyman in diaspora writers' stories, as if you're not fleeing the same fate as them? I understand that the character is just a child who doesn't know any better but a character can still be held accountable by the narration, IF the narration knows better. In this case, I did not feel like the narration cared about the harm it was perpetuating.
Is Dur e Aziz Amna the only Pakistani diaspora writer with any reflexivity? Who understands that becoming a nationality is a project of alienation that people fight? Is she the only one who can see how both Pakistan and the U.S. alienate their subjects and subjugated and that people are often caught in the middle, miserable with both? Do diaspora writers realize they can be unhappy with both their nationalities? Do they realize we're unhappy too?
2 weeks ago, I excitedly talked to my roommate about the possibilities of diasporic South Asian queer fiction, which would not have to go up against the same socioeconomic and legal constraints as us, how they could inject fresh life into languages. I am no longer hopeful.
I feel at fault for expecting reflexivity and thoughtfulness from people so obsessed with their own alienation that they never think of those they alienate. Are Pakistanis back home supposed to read this and not be appalled by their characterization not as actual people but as a specter that always haunts the diaspora, that they can project their worst fears onto? Why do diaspora writers refuse to be considerate enough to contextualize their diaspora-ification as a project of alienation and separation that hurts us too?
Most publication opportunities available to immigrants cater to Americanized descendants and it's mind-boggling to see how many of those descendants are happy not knowing anything about their parents' country. How can you only fuel American cultural stereotypes about a minority population, stereotypes that affect the most powerless and never the people you actually want to hurt? You internalize American imperialism and strip non-citizens of their voices and autonomy all over again, by condemning them to be only specters and not full people who challenge your self-centered perception of the world and of suffering.
You are not curious about the neighborhoods your parents come from, the languages and dialects they speak, the families that shaped their cultural imagination. You cannot individuate between them and see how they weaponize larger ideological narratives to disguise their own personal agendas. You believe them when they say this is what it means to be Pakistani and you say our invisibilized bodies are wardens too, when we’re prisoners like you. Pakistan is a threat for diaspora kids, sure, but there’s no thought spared for the millions of women back home, stuck with the men these same kids fear. The only suffering that matters structurally is the diaspora girl’s and it’s never placed in a lineage. Do you not think we're also not threatened with 'returns'? Why do we become the enactors of the same fate we fear? Because you can't imagine anyone except you suffering?
When you say Pakistanis back home believe everyone lives in mansions, you haven't paid enough attention to how expats often lie about their financial circumstances to not trouble their own parents or to play up their seniority/authority in family relations. When you think they only want extravagant gifts, you ignore how the cost is repaid in the free board, food and transport provided for the long stays during vacations back home. You know only one side of the story and I am so profoundly disappointed in the utter lack of interest in knowing more. These relations are maintained for strategic reasons. If you want to write about them, start asking questions.
If you wish to actually critique 'Pakistani' cultural norms, you would study enough history to realize that seeing it as a monolithic entity serves ITS purpose and not yours. If you believe in its lie of hegemony and sameness and don't see it as a violent state project that people resist and redefine all the time, you give it what it wants. There is no Pakistani and those within its borders all differ from each other. Many don't even want to be here.
The longer I stay in the US, the more I see how little diaspora descendants care to establish relations with newly arrived immigrants like them: not to hear alternate histories to decode the cultural silences in their household, to learn/renew the language, to have a cultural community outside their families, to be challenged on their American imperialism and cultural fragility soothed only by being the only experts/narrators/vanguards of their identity.
I’m sick and tired of the selfishness of diaspora literature and for the essentialist myths it constructs about us without us. You could choose to see solidarity in our struggles but you can't even see struggles beyond your own. There can be no headway in the diaspora (in their politics, in their art, in community and personhood) if their entire sense of politics is the way they’ve been failed and nothing about how they’ve failed others.
July 21, 2023
UPDATE: I submitted a review of this book for a magazine, so decided to update GoodReads.
UPDATE #2: With so many George Michael references, the '80's vibe, and the published book review, this book has been added to my Ideal Bookshelf 🥰
This uniquely written novel is told through glimpses of Razia’s teen years, a first generation Pakistani-American. The author’s creativity in her writing style adds to the already beautiful coming-of-age story. Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion begins in the summer of 1985 with Razia and her best friend, Saima. The girls have been friends forever, but they are ripped apart by their families’ differing cultural beliefs. In the next glimpse, Razia finds a friend, Taslima, in her close-knit Queens neighborhood. Together, they embark on a series of small teen rebellions: ‘80’s fashion and music, breaking the rules, and exploring city night life. Another snippet has Razia getting accepted into Stuyvesant, a prestigious high school in Manhattan. During this period, she struggles with the inner conflict between being true to herself and being the Pakistani-American daughter her parents want her to be. You are also introduced to her new friend, Angela, whom she is attracted to in a new and beautiful way. Again, Razia is conflicted with self-love versus cultural demands as she navigates through life.
Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion contains so much joy and sorrow in the four short years it covers. Not only are you immersed in Razia’s Muslim religion, education, and relationships, but you are transported back into the ‘80’s culture of fashion, music, and American lifestyle. My own memories of that time came flooding back as I reminisced about boy band posters, clothes, and TV shows. Even my favorite musician, George Michael, makes several appearances in Razia’s life glimpses. The girls in this novel are strong-willed and nurturing but struggle with their cultural beliefs and family expectations. Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion will tear at your emotions as you befriend Razia and her teen years as she learns to navigate through the roller coaster, we all experience, called life.
I would love to have another peek at Razia’s life, but, at least, I have more of Bushra Rehman’s books to read.
UPDATE #2: With so many George Michael references, the '80's vibe, and the published book review, this book has been added to my Ideal Bookshelf 🥰
This uniquely written novel is told through glimpses of Razia’s teen years, a first generation Pakistani-American. The author’s creativity in her writing style adds to the already beautiful coming-of-age story. Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion begins in the summer of 1985 with Razia and her best friend, Saima. The girls have been friends forever, but they are ripped apart by their families’ differing cultural beliefs. In the next glimpse, Razia finds a friend, Taslima, in her close-knit Queens neighborhood. Together, they embark on a series of small teen rebellions: ‘80’s fashion and music, breaking the rules, and exploring city night life. Another snippet has Razia getting accepted into Stuyvesant, a prestigious high school in Manhattan. During this period, she struggles with the inner conflict between being true to herself and being the Pakistani-American daughter her parents want her to be. You are also introduced to her new friend, Angela, whom she is attracted to in a new and beautiful way. Again, Razia is conflicted with self-love versus cultural demands as she navigates through life.
Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion contains so much joy and sorrow in the four short years it covers. Not only are you immersed in Razia’s Muslim religion, education, and relationships, but you are transported back into the ‘80’s culture of fashion, music, and American lifestyle. My own memories of that time came flooding back as I reminisced about boy band posters, clothes, and TV shows. Even my favorite musician, George Michael, makes several appearances in Razia’s life glimpses. The girls in this novel are strong-willed and nurturing but struggle with their cultural beliefs and family expectations. Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion will tear at your emotions as you befriend Razia and her teen years as she learns to navigate through the roller coaster, we all experience, called life.
I would love to have another peek at Razia’s life, but, at least, I have more of Bushra Rehman’s books to read.
February 4, 2023
By the time this came in at the library, I didn’t remember what it was about (typical), and I dove right in without a refresher. I’m glad I did that because I think the blurb has too much information about the plot and the people Razia, the main character, meets. I enjoyed watching relationships and story unfold without knowing what was going to happen.
This book is, of course, reminiscent of other stories of queer girls coming of age in a religion and community where being different is not allowed. In the first 50+ pages I was concerned I would end up feeling indifferent and bored by the story, but I’m glad I kept reading. The details, warmth, and sadness of the writing won me over. The ending even made me cry. A rare feat these days!
This book is, of course, reminiscent of other stories of queer girls coming of age in a religion and community where being different is not allowed. In the first 50+ pages I was concerned I would end up feeling indifferent and bored by the story, but I’m glad I kept reading. The details, warmth, and sadness of the writing won me over. The ending even made me cry. A rare feat these days!
April 8, 2023
This is such a sweet coming of age story set in 1980s Queens, centering on female friendship and (queer) self discovery. Razia, a Muslim Pakistani-American girl, cycles through close friendships as she grows up and tries to balance her identity and desire with her love for family and religion. Recommend for fans of Jacqueline Woodson & Elena Ferrante! Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC!
November 17, 2023
4.5 stars and also why am I crying right now. The ending was so heartbreaking but also uplifting. The grief and uncertainty and excitement are all swirling in my chest together making just a tornado of emotions. What a gorgeous story. My only minor critique was it was slightly hard to keep all the characters straight at the beginning but it got much easier as the story progressed. I love reading books about a life I otherwise would have no way of knowing about. Really stunned me.
February 21, 2024
I had been wanting to read this book for so long and now I did. Woohoo! It did not disappoint, I felt the following while reading: 😆😅🥹🥺😟🫰but I guess that’s just what girls be like and this is a sweet book about girls 😘
June 14, 2023
What I imagine Ferrante’s books are like but in Queen’s and In a salwar kameez.I think I’ll keep thinking about these girls for a long time. Highlighted some truly stunning sentences.
June 26, 2022
Roses, in the mouth of the Lion is a beautiful piece about Muslim immigrants in Queens, New York. It was a touching story with impactful metaphors following Razia, a Pakistani American and her community. This is a coming of age story starting from childhood with pure innocence about the world around her. She makes these deep observations about the world and how the world views her. You get to watch her change from the rule following child she was to a rebel who realizes how different she is from her family.
This story was beautifully written with almost a poetic feel. It had beautiful metaphors and short impactful life stories that weave a thread of the development of Razia and her friends.
I loved this story and read it slowly just to catch the deep impactful meaning behind each section. The elegant writing style took me on a journey of laughing, smiling, and crying for Razia. This story is immersive fiction in its finest.
Big thanks to NetGalley for the opportunity to read this novel as an ARC reader.
This story was beautifully written with almost a poetic feel. It had beautiful metaphors and short impactful life stories that weave a thread of the development of Razia and her friends.
I loved this story and read it slowly just to catch the deep impactful meaning behind each section. The elegant writing style took me on a journey of laughing, smiling, and crying for Razia. This story is immersive fiction in its finest.
Big thanks to NetGalley for the opportunity to read this novel as an ARC reader.
December 29, 2022
The book follows Razia from childhood to high school. It's told as a series of vignettes - it reminded me of My Brilliant Friend. I love this genre/format. It emphasizes the potent feelings that surround seemingly insignificant, quotidian situations. We've all had those experiences of feeling overwhelming pain, and euphoria, from connections with our most cherished friends. In the process, we are becoming who we are.
Razia's life grows around her relationships with a few key women in her life: first her best friend Saima, later Taslima, then Angela. We get to see them grow together, grow apart, and in the meanwhile, we are immersed in her life in her neighborhood and we understand the motivations/context of the adults around her.
This book had me emotionally distraught! It was very moving. I would love for the author to do a book like this with a character like Razia in their 20s. Update: I see that the author’s book Corona is just that! I will be checking that out.
Razia's life grows around her relationships with a few key women in her life: first her best friend Saima, later Taslima, then Angela. We get to see them grow together, grow apart, and in the meanwhile, we are immersed in her life in her neighborhood and we understand the motivations/context of the adults around her.
This book had me emotionally distraught! It was very moving. I would love for the author to do a book like this with a character like Razia in their 20s. Update: I see that the author’s book Corona is just that! I will be checking that out.
January 9, 2023
This is good. This is a good book. It's wonderfully character-driven with a beautiful message, and even when not much was happening, I was still invested in Razia's story. There's nod to the effects of assimilation, race, sexuality, and more, and as a whole Rehman does it well. The one failing for me (which is less of a failing and more one reader's opinion) is that there's not really a singular plot to tie it all together, making the story feel disjointed and the themes not as potent as they could have been. But even then, Rehman writes a beautiful story with themes I love to see done well, and I'd still wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone wanting a look at 1980s Queens and the journey of a girl coming to terms with her identity, her family, and her future.
April 14, 2022
A worthwhile coming of age story that follows Razia through her teenage years.
Filled with complicated family dynamics, Pakistani culture, and bittersweet high school friendships this book is a wonderful read.
If there's a sequel I would love to continue Razia's story!
An ARC was kindly provided via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Filled with complicated family dynamics, Pakistani culture, and bittersweet high school friendships this book is a wonderful read.
If there's a sequel I would love to continue Razia's story!
An ARC was kindly provided via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
December 30, 2022
This book has so much to offer. Inside of community, mostly consider weird.
This could be one of the books which makes you understand the narrative of the Muslims in other countries, societies and amid different cultures.
But nahh. Author decides to go for ‘queer’ ‘gender’ shot and ruined the book. And the irony of all is even the gender shot wasn’t played well!!
This could be one of the books which makes you understand the narrative of the Muslims in other countries, societies and amid different cultures.
But nahh. Author decides to go for ‘queer’ ‘gender’ shot and ruined the book. And the irony of all is even the gender shot wasn’t played well!!
March 8, 2023
Still processing but I highlighted 43 different passages and easily could have highlighted the whole book - 6 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
December 30, 2023
screaming crying throwing up !!! bushra rehman has such a beautiful writing style, i was honestly engaged cover to cover
August 22, 2024
Wow. Absolutely LOVED. I want everyone to read this
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