I bought this a few years ago during one of the 50% off hardcover sales at Barnes and Noble. And, naturally, it has sat, unread, on my bookshelf...until now. Slowly but surely, working through my backlist. :-)

In Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion, Razia narrates her own coming of age, late elementary through mid high school, growing up under the watchful eye of her Pakistani family and community in Corona, Queens, NYC. Each chapter is a little snippet, a glimpse of a  day or a memory as Razia is growing up - sort of litke a collection of separate but related vignettes (though as the story progresses and Razia gets older, the plot-flow connection between the chapters does get stronger). To be clear though, this is very much a slower-paced, character development novel. While there is a light plotline, the beauty is in the characters and their relationships. I mean, these female friendships though!!! OMG. The strength, the support - it's flawed but it's so pure. And Rehman does a wonderful job painting the complex reality that is the tension between family and tradition and cultural/religious loyalty and one's individual growth and personal identity and the future. The pull is excruciating to watch Razia struggle with internally. And also low key inspiring, to see her work through it for herself.  

And the writing! It is gorgeous. Flowing and poetic, but not flowery (which is a win, for me). The many places in Razia's world where everyday items and images and people turn into plants/animals/nature, in her imagination, are charming and whimsical. It all did a wonderful job demonstrating how a change in the light (or perspective) can make a situation and an experience and a life totally different that what you thought it was…it’s the small things that make everything what it is/what it could be. I also particularly loved the many ways the title - roses and lions - were worked in, both literal and metaphorical, throughout the novel. It's all about setting a place and a feeling and a time period and character growth and Rehman creates that with aplomb. Razia's sweet and innocent (sheltered) growing up in the 80s music and book vibes are so endearing. And at the same time, for all her naivete, she still faces the myriad coming of age identity struggles that are universal to adolescence, and then specific to queerness (a word here on the false narrative of queer "indoctrination," since Razia had no exposure to gay people/culture at all, self professed, and still knew she liked girls/was a lesbian, thank you very much) and Islam. And that ending. The culminating discovery and escape and open-ended/unanswered future, was the exact right way to close this chapter of Razia's story. It's unknown, so it's naturally scary. But it's also now within Razia’s own power to shape. It isn’t happy, but also isn’t tragic. There’s so much room for growth and self/discovery and that's something to hold onto tightly. 

 

What a rhythmic and beautiful, but subtly haunting, extraordinary in its "normal"-ness, queer coming of age story. 

“It was always this way with our fathers. They made stories of cruelty seem so funny.”