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Showing posts with label LGBQT. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LGBQT. Show all posts

Friday, 18 September 2020

Homegoing (2016)

I found Yaa Gyansi's novel Homegoing on my to-read list when I was choosing a title for a bookclub with my teenage niece and her mother at the beginning of lockdown. It made it on my list via bookstagram (though I can't quite recall who exactly made the recommendation). The novel was published by Penguin in 2016 and is 220 pages long (Kindle edition noted 315 pages). It consists of two parts with 14 chapters. The story spans a period of three hundred years, following the descendants of two Ghanaian sisters. I will explore the format and style of the book as well as discuss some of the key themes alongside my personal reflections. 



The novel begins with an Akan proverb that notes the importance of every member of the family. Gyansi then provides a family tree for the reader to refer back to. The structure of the novel follows a generational format, where each chapter follows a character of the next generation of one of the family lines. As such, the chapters are named after the focalised character. Homegoing is written with a third person narrator who focalises into the central character of the chapter, and through their interactions the reader engages with auxiliary characters. I found that this generational approach to the chapters was really effective and powerful in exploring how social conditions changed (if at all). It also permitted the author to navigate and demonstrate the effects of intergenerational traumas as well as lost lineage and identity. Since each character represents a familial generation as well as a socio-political environment, their chapter can almost be read as a short story, albeit interwoven with the preceding and succeeding narratives. 

Homegoing begins in Ghana at the beginning of colonisation and is implicated in the slave trade. The social dynamics are complex and hierarchies are being continuously challenged. This environment brings to the fore the dehumanising and racist discourse at the heart of these injustices. As one family line remains in Ghana and the other is sent to toil in America, Gyansi demonstrates how whiteness, whether in the context of slavery or colonisation and missionary efforts, shaped the characters' experiences on the two continents. That being said, she also highlights how colonisation and slavery have morphed to take on other forms in the present (i.e. modern day prison systems). It provokes debate as to how deeply rooted the problem really is to this day. 

Women and womanhood are a huge theme in the novel, and they explored from so many angles that my short paragraph definitely will not do it justice (perhaps someone can write an essay or thesis on the matter instead). However, I do still want to note some significant points. The matrilineal line of descendants is a distinct reminder of the status of women and the power of womanhood in society, especially given that they are also subject to violence, and risk being treated as assets, thus making them vulnerable. These oppositions consequently demonstrate the complexity of womanhood as we witness empowered femininity and subjugated femininity. In addition to this, we see how the trauma women experience is passed down through generations, compounding the struggles each generation inherits. 

I was pleased to read Gyansi's representation of (historic) tribal Africa, where polygamous households are a norm and not looked upon condescendingly. As with all family structures, there are complexities but it was refreshing to visualise a co-operative society with joint families where there is mutual respect between men and women, each bringing to the table their own contributions for the prosperity of the whole family. No doubt it is also a competitive society where tribes and tribesmen compete for strength, reputation and power, yet there is a notion of responsibility towards others that is enshrined in this, combatting excess selfishness.

Naturally, sex is a prerequisite to form generations in a family line and therefore sexual encounters are fairly frequent in the novel. I mention this in case you are selecting this for younger readers, as I was unaware of this when choosing to read this with my 13-year old niece. Her mother also read the book and decided she would rather her daughter read the book at a later age, as sexual violence is also explored. Otherwise, I found that these scenes were always relevant and carefully written, unlike some texts that are rather gratuitous and vulgar in this regard. Gyansi represents the nuances of sexual relations, as they demonstrate power dynamics between couples as well as sources of pleasure, or how they play an important spiritual and cultural role. I also considered Gyansi's writing to be sensitive to "forbidden" love and notions of homosexual desire.  

Overall, Homegoing is an excellent novel that everyone ought to read for both the content and the writing style (age permitting). It deals with deep emotions and a realm of complex situations and scenarios that underline the complexity of history and the present of Black lives. Of course it is also heartbreaking to read this knowing that it is "merely" fiction, thus the reality of injustice must be significantly worse, however unpalatable that may seem. This is a valuable book because of the story it tells and it is also well-written and engaging in its form and style. The stories are a powerful reminder of just a fraction of the dark history of domination this world has seen. 

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Have you read this novel? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

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Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 



Monday, 13 July 2020

A Little Life (2015)

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara was published by Picador in 2015. It was nominated for several literary prizes, including the Booker Prize (2015), Women's Prize for Fiction (2016) and the National Book Awards (2016). My kindle edition comprises 737 pages and the novel is divided into 7 parts, with three chapters each. I read this book with my siblings as part of our book club. My brother had been gifted it 6 years earlier and had only read a few pages. I am often hesitant to read American fiction but agreed to this one because it is by a woman of colour. I will briefly discuss the general outline of the novel and how it is written before exploring some of the core themes and my final thoughts.


The novel is about four graduate friends who are trying to make it in New York. We are immediately introduced to them, that is Malcolm, JB, Jude and Willem, through scenes of them together or in pairs. Yanagihara then focalises into each protagonist's background to contextualise them. Jude's contextualisation comes last, and is the most ambiguous and lingering. It consequently takes several chapters to finally piece together Jude's history. Generally, the novel follows a chronological structure, with some flashbacks which are interspersed with other narratives in the present and future, which discuss events retrospectively. The narrative spans around three decades, if not five.

Thematically, Yanagihara explores profoundly human and haunting social issues. The most obvious theme is that of friendship, but this is nuanced as she explores the spectrum from co-dependency to betrayal. In addition to this, the novel examines notions of belonging, race and ethnicity, identity, sexuality, understanding of success and fulfilment, addiction, disability, child abuse, mental health and family. As the protagonists are going from youth into adulthood, we witness their disillusionment of youth and their attempts to navigate adulthood. This requires facing up to their own insecurities or they risk ending up being self-sabotaged by them. 

Yanagihara varies the narrative voice throughout the novel, which adds diversity and offers different perspectives to specific events. Sometimes the narrative voice is in the third person with an 'omniscient' narrator who focalises into certain characters' lives and at other times it is in the first person (of either Harold or Willem). Gradually more of the novel focuses in onto Jude and the other characters' interactions with him. The writing style competently deals with dark themes with a lightness that does not overly traumatise the reader, yet Yanagihara is also able to effectively evoke shock, for example, of violent relationships. 

I noticed that this novel opposed traditional literature as it is a woman writing about four male protagonists. Though my brother remarked that it does not discuss manhood as such, and thus could have been equally a story about four women. In that respect, the novel is genderless. This fluidity of gender and sexuality has been one of the praised points in reviews. Moreover, it was interesting to note how Jude, considered an enigma, is race-less and genderless. This protects and frees him from the readers' bias and prejudice but it also means that the reader cannot place him. This neutrality emphasises that he lacks belonging to any "origin" and, for me, meant that I could not deeply empathise with him. 

Another remarkable feature of this novel is how secular it is. There is no belief system in place and it is a space that simply deals with everyone's emotions and subjectivities, which are thus taken as realities. Despite the presence of names with religious connotations, such as Father Gabriel, Ahmed and Jude St. Francis, there is extremely little religious critique or commentary, if at all. That is to say, none of the catastrophes or epiphanies in the book are attributed to religion. In this respect, the novel fully embraced a liberalism that I had never read in fiction before now. For me, it felt strange and somewhat hollow in some respects due to this; it seems to be a novel about just existing for the self and others, which is a struggle as both can massively betray you. 

In sum, I found the writing to be fluid and I was glad that it did not have the American twang that I usually struggle with in American literature. It is a very well-written novel but is extremely long and I, personally, did not find it life changing and would argue that you could live a good life without ever reading it. 

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Have you read this novel? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

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Tuesday, 14 August 2018

Homosexuality in Islam: Critical Reflection on Gay, Lesbian, and Transgender Muslims (2010)

Homosexuality n Islam: Critical Reflection on Gay, Lesbian, and Transgender Muslims by Scott Siraj al-Haqq Kugle was published by Oxford Oneworld in 2010. It is a non-fiction text that comes to 275 pages (main body) but goes up to 335 including the notes, bibliography. glossary and index, which illustrates the extent to which this text is well-researched and comprehensive. I will highlight some of the key arguments in the text, divided by chapter, and provide my own thoughts on how convincing Kugle's argument is. 




Kugle begins his work with a case study to contextualise the need for this research and the social repercussions of publicly acknowledging a gay sexual orientation. By the end of the book he brings to the fore his engagement with contemporary realities (in terms of the legalisation of same-sex marriage in secular countries) and how Muslims of different sexual orientations and gender identities live and negotiate their life and faith in relation to these matters. 

He highlights the methods of coming to Islamic legal rulings and how they are negotiated, from Quran, hadith (reports of the Prophet Muhammad's words and actions) and reasoning of the various major schools of thought. These are divided into separate chapters. He makes the following significant points made in the respective chapters. "Liberating Quran: Islamic Scripture" points out that the story of Lot does not condemn gay people, as the crimes of Lot were not limited to sodomy and if their crimes included this element, it condemns rather the violence of the action. Furthermore, laws of previous nations are not necessarily applicable to Islamic law, as is the case for many other matters. "Critiquing Hadith: Islamic Oral Tradition" notes that there is no prophetic example to follow in terms of same-sex relationships (punishments or otherwise). It also highlights the prevalence of weak or fabricated hadiths. "Assessing Fiqh: Islamic Legal Reasoning" competently compares the logical reasoning behind the various schools of thought and thus explains their differing stances on same-sex sexual acts in relation to illegal heterosexual sex. Through these chapters he deals with the notions of prejudice, bias and inconsistency which then inform legal interpretations. 

From these criticisms and analyses, Kugle goes on to offer his own suggestions on how to address same-sex relationships in contemporary society. In his chapter "Reforming Shari'a: Islamic Ethics of Same-Sex Marriage" he offers the possibility of legalising same-sex marriage in the Muslim community and argues how such a shift in approach to nikkah contracts will also benefit women (and feminists) as well as gay Muslims. His argumentation is compelling and informed, as he deconstructs the reasons not to do so competently. 

Kugle's transgender argument is much shorter, being limited to the one chapter: "Reviving Spirit: Islamic Approaches to Transgender Experience" and is, for me, less convincing outside the frame of hermaphrodites. When I say "less convincing", that is not to contest Kugle's case for fair, human and compassionate treatment of people who choose to identify with another gender (and even surgically change their body with this intention), rather I mean that I do not know how such a decision can be deemed more than a "whim" in the Islamic perspective, and correspond to the essentialist notion of sexuality and gender that Kugle adopts. It is a complex matter and it requires more study, which Kugle at least offers a starting point for. 

To conclude, Homosexuality in Islam: Critical Reflection on Gay, Lesbian, and Transgender Muslims that provides essential insights into the contemporary reality of homosexual and transgender Muslims in the light of Islamic understanding. It explores the conflicts gay Muslims face due to cultural and social forces prejudicing Islamic interpretation and consequently human treatment of homosexuals. He offers strong and convincing arguments for his case, especially for gay Muslims, and does so by breaking down the multiple components that inform Islamic legal jurisprudence. Due to this, this book also provides much information and insight, for those who do not know, into the workings of the Islamic law (or shari'ah) and its many nuances- obviously with a limited focus on this topic. 



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Monday, 26 March 2018

Trumpet (1998)

A completely new genre of book after my Partition series but a novel worth analysing. Trumpet, written by the Scottish author Jackie Kay, was published in 1998 by Vintage Books. I read a digital edition on my iPad that adjusted the page count according to the text size but the print version is apparently 278 pages long; it has 36 chapters. The novel tells the story of the late Joss Moody, a black jazz musician (trumpet player), who lives the life of a man (wife and adopted child included) but turns out to have been biologically female*. The discovery of this transgendered life is the starting point of the novel and the conflicts experienced by his wife, son and the world around them make up the novel. It is based on the story of musician Billy Tipton, a real American jazz artist. I will discuss the issues of identity, some gender theory and the style of the novel. 




A major theme in the novel is the construction of identity which is explored in various ways. In terms of heritage, there is a significant discussion on what family means and through whom do we identify ourselves? Colman, the adopted son, knows his biological parents are not the ones he lives with nor does he consider them to be his parents. He does not know who they are so, despite the blood connection, his family and identity are defined through his adopted parents. This is why he is so devastated at the "betrayal" of his female father figure. Arguably the most marked symbol of identity in this novel is one's name. Names are windows into history, choice, biology and/or family. Changing names is something that takes place casually for marriage but also to change gender, to change parents and to share heritage, as in the choice for Colman's first name. How we choose to name ourselves or those around us reveals a lot, for Edith, Joss's mother, never stopped calling Joss by his feminine given name. Racial and national identity are also discussed in the novel, as Joss Moody has a black father and white mother but considers himself Scottish nonetheless. Their adopted son is also of mixed race and is encouraged to respect his Scottish heritage even when living in London. The extent to which identity is given to us or chosen is repeated in terms of racial versus national affiliations as well as in the understanding of sex and gender.

Gender theory in the art world (including the literary domain) is highly relevant in the analysis of this text. The reason for this is that Joss Moody passes as a man simply through two things: dress and behaviour. This supports the argument that gender is a social construct which is created through repeating and repeated behaviours. Conventions for a gender are usually set by social norms and then require to be imitated accordingly. Consequently, the question of gender identity may come down to which conventions one feels like following, although someone who wants "ultimate freedom from society" may try to defy all conventions, a challenge in itself. In any case, there are questions of authenticity and the importance of convention, even when being "unconventional". 


In terms of style, the novel is written from various (subjective) perspectives, and key characters' perspectives are repeated while periphery characters are given just one chapter. Each character engages with the issue (of Joss Moody) in a different manner most relevant to his/her own personal involvement. Kay does not forget to add a media perspective of this ordeal, for which journalist would not be interested in such a "quirky" scoop? Sophie Stones represents the ruthless media industry and a world seeking to take advantage of others for its own gain.The chapters and thoughts are not ordered chronologically. 

Joss Moody, however, is dead from the beginning and so his thoughts elude us; even in conversations that Millie (his wife) could share with us about his revelation, the narrative is cut short. This means that we never really hear his opinion and only know his actions. Other pivotal moments and conversations are also cut short and hidden from the reader, such as that between Coleman (the adopted son) and Edith (Moody's mother). For me, this was somewhat frustrating. It may be justified as unnecessary so that people accept the person and actions without feeling entitled to an explanation or even so that by providing explanations, Kay does not risk limiting the interpretation and desire for such lifestyle changes. However, I think the novel would have been stronger with the reasons embedded in them in order to allow "others" to empathise with such decisions more easily, to make it less abstract. 

Overall, despite the unsympathetic characterisation of Colman, one can understand his shock and frustration in the big picture, even if we do not approve his way of going about it. This novel discusses important issues in relation to personal identity and its affects on people around us. It engages with Freudian theory as well as gender theory to make its point. 

Have you read this novel or another addressing similar issues? What are your thoughts on how LGBTQ+ matters are dealt with in literature? Comments are open! 

* Note/ Disclaimer: I use the terms "female" and "male" to refer to the biological sex (and man/ woman to refer to the gender) and consequently consider Joss Moody to be a "female man" and transgender man (not transsexual) because he never undergoes a physical sex change but adopts another gender by hiding features belonging to females and enhancing male features. 

Thursday, 16 November 2017

The Ministry of Utmost Happiness (2017)

This post is long overdue but I needed to think about the novel for some time before compiling any sort of review. In all honesty I feel like I shouldn't really write one until I read the novel again but that seems like it will be many months away considering my current schedule and reading list. For the reason of not wanting to delay it any further, I'm now making my attempt at this review.

For the record this is Arundhati Roy's second novel, after an immense gap of 20 years (see note) and was published by Hamish Hamilton (Penguin) in 2017. The hardback copy is 445 pages including acknowledgements and 438 without, making it a pretty chunky read; I can't say I didn't wish I had it in a kindle edition just for that reason (there is one by the way). The novel is divided into 12 chapters, plus a short passage prior to chapter one. I will discuss her style as well as some of the key issues or themes she deals with, although a blog post is far from sufficient.


Roy begins the novel with a short passage on how consumerism is harming the environment. This issue is revisited especially at the end of the novel, although it is one of many threads and is linked closely to her political stance. She raises so many issues concerning the effects of modernisation, consumerism and capitalism, especially on the poor, which are linked to her arguments from non-fiction.

The Ministry of Utmost Happiness begins in Dehli, India where we follow the story of a transgender woman, Anjum previously Aftab. I found myself quite "settled" into the novel when Roy changes the scene and begins the parallel plot in Kashmir. My knowledge of the Kashmir affair is vague, at best, and Roy illustrates just how much of a nuanced and delicate issue it is. This definitely made it heavy reading despite the captivating narrative and suspense. She is clearly well-informed and has produced an insight into a region that has been in a state of conflict for decades.

In terms of style Roy uses both the first person narrative as well as an omniscient narrator. She uses a very different writing style to The God of Small Things and shifts in chronology (flashbacks and flashforwards) thus allowing the reader to recreate the order of events. Her writing is full of wit, sarcasm and beautiful turns of phrase.; it's a pleasure to read. I believe she used layers of microcosms with Anjum's internal turmoil reflected in Kashmir, which is a microcosm for the problems affecting India, which is in itself a microcosm of the global crises we face.

Roy doesn't shy away from addressing some sensitive yet core social issues. She makes consistent references to the social relationships between Hindus and Muslims in India, including some severe political consequences. She raises awareness on the increased religious discrimination towards Muslims in India and in other parts of the world. One of the ways she made this novel so rich is by including various beliefs and cultures- from shrine visiting to references to jinn and witchcraft and omens- which highlight the complex and nuanced mentalities of the people, which affect how people live with one another in a context of differences.

The Ministry of Utmost Happiness is a dark, dense and richly crafted novel. It is about love and heartbreak in the broadest sense and of all types. I struggled with this novel because while it is fiction, it is based on some of the harshest realities and truths of our modern world. It provokes thoughts on who we are in the novel: those who contribute to the conflict and chaos or those who attempt to relieve it. It ends on a note of hope, yet I'm not really sure how hopeful it really is. This is definitely an important read and a reality check packaged in fiction.

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Note: Although Roy hadn't written a novel in a good few years, she was still actively writing non-fiction in the interval. I was fortunate enough to read her Algebra of Infinite Justice last semester and this definitely gave me a grounding in Roy's activist positions and the issues she relates in this monumental piece.

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