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From a god-fearing Muslim boy enraptured with their mother, to a vocal, queer drag queen estranged from their family, this is a heart-breaking and hilarious memoir about the author's fight to be true to themselfMy name is Amrou Al-Kadhi - by day. By night, I am Glamrou, an empowered, fearless and acerbic drag queen who wears seven-inch heels and says the things that nobody else dares to. Growing up in a strict Iraqi Muslim household, it didn't take long for me to realise I was different. When I was ten years old, I announced to my family that I was in love with Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone. The resultant fallout might best be described as something like the Iraqi version of Jerry Springer: The Opera. And that was just the beginning. This is the story of how I got from there to here: about my teenage obsession with marine biology, and how fluid aquatic life helped me understand my non-binary gender identity; about my two-year scholarship at Eton college, during which I wondered if I could forge a new identity as a British aristocrat (spoiler alert: it didn't work); about discovering the transformative powers of drag while at university (and how I very nearly lost my mind after I left); and about how, after years of rage towards it, I finally began to understand Islam in a new, queer way. Most of all, this is a book about my mother. It's the journey of how we lost and found each other, about forgiveness, understanding, hope - and the life-long search for belonging.… (more)
User reviews
The author was born one of twin boys to Iraqi parents in the Middle East, brought up a Muslim and spends most of the book trying to
I also found that some experiences were so extreme that I doubted the authenticity of the experience - and in doubting one you find the remainder being thrown into doubt. While at Eaton they are reciting a passage from Richard III. Fine, you may not be familiar with the play, but having done history you surely know enough that monarchs are described by ordinal numbers - no one says Henry eight, he's Henry the eighth. By claiming not to know this in relation to Richard III, when they have previously said that they'd studied History at GCSE, it makes you doubt what else is subject to exageration. The text only works if you can trust it, and I didn't feel I could.
I'm not going to deny that there is a lot of angst and conflict contained within this person, coming from their family, religion and cultural background. Howver, it felt to lack any ability to look at life dispassionately. In the book reference is made to "A Child called It" and the so-called misery memoir genre and it feels that this is trying to follow in those footsteps. The last chapter was a more encouraging ending than might have been expected of the remainder of the book.
I feel this would have been a better book had it been written by someone who was comfortable in their own skin and more mature in their ability to provide balance and draw conclusions from their experiences. They have one hell of a story to tell - but this doesn't do it justice.