I have literally just finished reading Michael Muhammad Knight's latest production, "Tripping with Allah". Even though everything I know about reviews of anything tells me that I should wait to give this plenty of thought, the other half of me is so ridiculously wound up over everything I just read I just want to SPIT IT ON OUT!
I should mention that I've been waiting to read this book for ages. It was released 2 days after my flight to go back to Doha for my second semester of graduate school. After an unsuccessful attempt to buy the book online and have it shipped to me (the package was seized and destroyed by customs officials), I attempted to find it on a short trip to London, only to discover that the UK release date wasn't until next week and again, I'd miss it. I asked Foyle's Bookshop to save me a copy when it came in anyways. I then tried (unsuccessfully) to convince a number of my friends who frequently traveled back and forth between Doha and London to smuggle me a copy back somehow.
All of these attempts were unsuccessful, and I was forced to wait to get my hands on a copy until I was back in this fine democracy, where everyone is absolutely free to be a total idiot.
Prior to this point, I had (accidentally) the pleasure of discussing the author (Michael Muhammad Knight) and his works with a friend back in Doha who shall remain nameless, but who directs some serious research at an equally serious policy institution out somewhere on the Qatari peninsula. Apologies if the conversation isn't completely accurate, it was a long time ago and my memory is shot to pieces. Somehow the conversation had drifted, and I was mentioning something about MMK's Taqwacores to this guy.
"Well, some people find his work really controversial."
"How so controversial...?" He asked in this way that just reinforced my already strong perception that he knew everything and I was just a wide-eyed white-girl adrift in the Persian Gulf (I've become exceedingly familiar with this tone, unfortunately).
"Well, you know, Muslims drinking and doing drugs and stuff... But I still find it hard to say that they definitively aren't Muslims."
"I know what you mean, I had this friend here for a long time," he paused and shifted out of the Dr. Academic frame for a few moments, "She wore hijab and would always pray on time and everything, but she would go to these crazy parties out here and sleep around without shame." He sat back definitively and puffed on his shisha. "I know about Michael Muhammad Knight... I remember all these guys I knew from the Muslim Students' Association getting swept up in the Taqwacore thing."
This kind of floored me. Maybe it's just that I grew up in Colorado, surrounded by only a handful of Muslims - 90% of whom were straight FOBs from Saudi Arabia coming to study at American universities, and to fuck and drink and stay up late watching porn and playing video games. So until talking with this guy, I've only ever interacted with one other person on a real-live basis (excluding conversations about the topic online) who had even heard of MMK or the Taqwacores. It's safe to say that there is no counter-Islamic culture in Colorado, and definitely no Taqwacore just yet.
He took another long drag of shisha, and exhaled. "So what, then, you're like one of his groupies or something?" Again, back to Dr. Academic and the wide-eyed intern who gets eye-fucked from across the room at foreign-policy events. Never you mind I would have gladly played the part of the wide-eyed intern getting a stern reprimanding across the desk of my big bad boss.... But I'll blame that on Knight's recurring erotic descriptions of houris and masturbation; my mind's polluted. Shame on you.
While I consider myself to be an American Muslim, I'm really not connected to this American Muslim "scene" that apparently exists somewhere out there in densely populated parts of the USA. I didn't even know enough about being an "American Muslim" to know that liking and praising Knight makes me a veritable persona non grata to the ICNA-type crowd; the protectors of the "real" American Islam.
I don't give a fuck one way or the other if liking the books of Michael Muhammad Knight disqualifies me as an "American Muslim", or even as "American" or "Muslim" at all. My Islam is not for the world. No longer will I wrap my scarf so tight, parading my conversion around to be gawked at - a reaffirmation for the rest of the Muslim world to cluck and coo "mashallah, look at how she became a Muslim and was born again." I hate that. Nobody can be "born again" after converting to Islam. Some people tell me that all of my sins will be erased. Assuming that they mean my sins before converting, I would still have a heck of a lot to repent for. Converting to Islam didn't suddenly remake me into an abaya wearing, rule-following, chaste piece of property that a man could one day own. That's the other thing I hear all the time that just makes me want to scream "ya habibiti, you know now you can only marry a Muslim man. Are you nervous about that?" Shut. Your. Mouth. I'll marry whoever I want to marry (if I marry) and I will not be consulting you about it.
Should I actually say something about the book itself? Perhaps...
This book is remarkably well timed to speak to my own transformation not only as an American-Muslim, but also as a writer. It seemed to me that the most heartfelt passages, and the ones that spoke to me the most, lamented Knight's transition as a writer - a pain I often feel as I transition from ranting blogposts and raunchy short-stories to essays and dissertations. It's painful, and I could see - even before Knight reveals himself in the end of the book - that it was a work of someone in transition. Not really research, not really a road novel, and not really a work of nonfiction, the book is solely the creation of the author's addiction; his drug of choice. At times it did feel labored, but even these passages seemed to have something more to say. I know this awkward style that he's writing in well... It reminds me of my own work. Labored, not sure how much (if any) passion to insert into a particular piece... The soul-sucking feeling of writing academic papers in a never-ending cycle just suuuuuuucks.
That's what stuck with me the most, really. I have to say that I just LOVED the climactic piece with Fatima and Ali... Perhaps because I can relate to the experience of spiritual soul-searching with a hallucinogenic/psychedelic aid. I had never given much serious thought to reconciling my Islamic identity through the consumption of psychedelic drugs, but MMK's book had me googling the nearest Peyote Way church of God and checking my bank account balance. Keep kids off drugs, don't let them read Tripping with Allah.
Overall, I just have great warm fuzzy feelings about the book, much the same as I do when I read his other books. I suppose most people probably finish and get angry or feel unsettled. I'm just walking around with a big smile on my face thinking "thank Allah there are freaks out there that think like I do.... But seriously, I mean goddamn! That sex scene where Knight became Fatima was hot. Wish that had been me."
Gender seemed to be a running theme throughout the book, but now I don't want to emphasize this book's discussion of gender over his others, as Knight clearly states that often people don't realize when he is writing satirically about gender. As a female it's interesting to read about male struggles with feminism, sexuality, gender, etc. - but at a few points I kind of felt as if Knight was almost hijacking femininity. Don't get me wrong, I salute the courage of any male to openly admit he's a feminist, or supportive of total equality between the sexes (not to mention having experienced Fatima as "the divine feminine"), but when men become the ones to experience, talk about, and analyze femininity, it cuts out the most important piece of the equation: the woman herself. It has now, apparently, become possible to discuss femininity without involving any females (with the exception of the ayahuasca-induced vision of Fatima). In the world of today, the feminine has become an object of male discussion just as the female body has become an object of male exploitation.
This is probably why they tell you to wait to write reviews, since now I can't hardly remember all I wanted to say about it. I almost wish that this book had been Knight's next book that he briefly foreshadows at the end of Tripping with Allah. I liked the main body, which had a lot to say about the context of drugs in Islam, and analyzing academic writing, as well as Knight's "set"- but it left me a little hungry. I had almost expected to be told about the amazing visions and Knight's own experience (albeit with some background, for sure) and then be treated to an in-depth sort of analysis of what it brought up. Maybe we won't get this, maybe we will. Who knows. I'm quite satisfied as is.
Whatever the point of Knight's latest and greatest, it was so so welcome, and a long overdue celebration of the kind of American Islam that I know and love. I'm glad I was able to slip it in somewhere between all these heavy academic tomes on the Gulf and this hanky-panky conference I'm attending in the UK next month.
Peace and love always <3
I should mention that I've been waiting to read this book for ages. It was released 2 days after my flight to go back to Doha for my second semester of graduate school. After an unsuccessful attempt to buy the book online and have it shipped to me (the package was seized and destroyed by customs officials), I attempted to find it on a short trip to London, only to discover that the UK release date wasn't until next week and again, I'd miss it. I asked Foyle's Bookshop to save me a copy when it came in anyways. I then tried (unsuccessfully) to convince a number of my friends who frequently traveled back and forth between Doha and London to smuggle me a copy back somehow.
All of these attempts were unsuccessful, and I was forced to wait to get my hands on a copy until I was back in this fine democracy, where everyone is absolutely free to be a total idiot.
Prior to this point, I had (accidentally) the pleasure of discussing the author (Michael Muhammad Knight) and his works with a friend back in Doha who shall remain nameless, but who directs some serious research at an equally serious policy institution out somewhere on the Qatari peninsula. Apologies if the conversation isn't completely accurate, it was a long time ago and my memory is shot to pieces. Somehow the conversation had drifted, and I was mentioning something about MMK's Taqwacores to this guy.
"Well, some people find his work really controversial."
"How so controversial...?" He asked in this way that just reinforced my already strong perception that he knew everything and I was just a wide-eyed white-girl adrift in the Persian Gulf (I've become exceedingly familiar with this tone, unfortunately).
"Well, you know, Muslims drinking and doing drugs and stuff... But I still find it hard to say that they definitively aren't Muslims."
"I know what you mean, I had this friend here for a long time," he paused and shifted out of the Dr. Academic frame for a few moments, "She wore hijab and would always pray on time and everything, but she would go to these crazy parties out here and sleep around without shame." He sat back definitively and puffed on his shisha. "I know about Michael Muhammad Knight... I remember all these guys I knew from the Muslim Students' Association getting swept up in the Taqwacore thing."
This kind of floored me. Maybe it's just that I grew up in Colorado, surrounded by only a handful of Muslims - 90% of whom were straight FOBs from Saudi Arabia coming to study at American universities, and to fuck and drink and stay up late watching porn and playing video games. So until talking with this guy, I've only ever interacted with one other person on a real-live basis (excluding conversations about the topic online) who had even heard of MMK or the Taqwacores. It's safe to say that there is no counter-Islamic culture in Colorado, and definitely no Taqwacore just yet.
He took another long drag of shisha, and exhaled. "So what, then, you're like one of his groupies or something?" Again, back to Dr. Academic and the wide-eyed intern who gets eye-fucked from across the room at foreign-policy events. Never you mind I would have gladly played the part of the wide-eyed intern getting a stern reprimanding across the desk of my big bad boss.... But I'll blame that on Knight's recurring erotic descriptions of houris and masturbation; my mind's polluted. Shame on you.
While I consider myself to be an American Muslim, I'm really not connected to this American Muslim "scene" that apparently exists somewhere out there in densely populated parts of the USA. I didn't even know enough about being an "American Muslim" to know that liking and praising Knight makes me a veritable persona non grata to the ICNA-type crowd; the protectors of the "real" American Islam.
I don't give a fuck one way or the other if liking the books of Michael Muhammad Knight disqualifies me as an "American Muslim", or even as "American" or "Muslim" at all. My Islam is not for the world. No longer will I wrap my scarf so tight, parading my conversion around to be gawked at - a reaffirmation for the rest of the Muslim world to cluck and coo "mashallah, look at how she became a Muslim and was born again." I hate that. Nobody can be "born again" after converting to Islam. Some people tell me that all of my sins will be erased. Assuming that they mean my sins before converting, I would still have a heck of a lot to repent for. Converting to Islam didn't suddenly remake me into an abaya wearing, rule-following, chaste piece of property that a man could one day own. That's the other thing I hear all the time that just makes me want to scream "ya habibiti, you know now you can only marry a Muslim man. Are you nervous about that?" Shut. Your. Mouth. I'll marry whoever I want to marry (if I marry) and I will not be consulting you about it.
Should I actually say something about the book itself? Perhaps...
This book is remarkably well timed to speak to my own transformation not only as an American-Muslim, but also as a writer. It seemed to me that the most heartfelt passages, and the ones that spoke to me the most, lamented Knight's transition as a writer - a pain I often feel as I transition from ranting blogposts and raunchy short-stories to essays and dissertations. It's painful, and I could see - even before Knight reveals himself in the end of the book - that it was a work of someone in transition. Not really research, not really a road novel, and not really a work of nonfiction, the book is solely the creation of the author's addiction; his drug of choice. At times it did feel labored, but even these passages seemed to have something more to say. I know this awkward style that he's writing in well... It reminds me of my own work. Labored, not sure how much (if any) passion to insert into a particular piece... The soul-sucking feeling of writing academic papers in a never-ending cycle just suuuuuuucks.
That's what stuck with me the most, really. I have to say that I just LOVED the climactic piece with Fatima and Ali... Perhaps because I can relate to the experience of spiritual soul-searching with a hallucinogenic/psychedelic aid. I had never given much serious thought to reconciling my Islamic identity through the consumption of psychedelic drugs, but MMK's book had me googling the nearest Peyote Way church of God and checking my bank account balance. Keep kids off drugs, don't let them read Tripping with Allah.
Overall, I just have great warm fuzzy feelings about the book, much the same as I do when I read his other books. I suppose most people probably finish and get angry or feel unsettled. I'm just walking around with a big smile on my face thinking "thank Allah there are freaks out there that think like I do.... But seriously, I mean goddamn! That sex scene where Knight became Fatima was hot. Wish that had been me."
Gender seemed to be a running theme throughout the book, but now I don't want to emphasize this book's discussion of gender over his others, as Knight clearly states that often people don't realize when he is writing satirically about gender. As a female it's interesting to read about male struggles with feminism, sexuality, gender, etc. - but at a few points I kind of felt as if Knight was almost hijacking femininity. Don't get me wrong, I salute the courage of any male to openly admit he's a feminist, or supportive of total equality between the sexes (not to mention having experienced Fatima as "the divine feminine"), but when men become the ones to experience, talk about, and analyze femininity, it cuts out the most important piece of the equation: the woman herself. It has now, apparently, become possible to discuss femininity without involving any females (with the exception of the ayahuasca-induced vision of Fatima). In the world of today, the feminine has become an object of male discussion just as the female body has become an object of male exploitation.
This is probably why they tell you to wait to write reviews, since now I can't hardly remember all I wanted to say about it. I almost wish that this book had been Knight's next book that he briefly foreshadows at the end of Tripping with Allah. I liked the main body, which had a lot to say about the context of drugs in Islam, and analyzing academic writing, as well as Knight's "set"- but it left me a little hungry. I had almost expected to be told about the amazing visions and Knight's own experience (albeit with some background, for sure) and then be treated to an in-depth sort of analysis of what it brought up. Maybe we won't get this, maybe we will. Who knows. I'm quite satisfied as is.
Whatever the point of Knight's latest and greatest, it was so so welcome, and a long overdue celebration of the kind of American Islam that I know and love. I'm glad I was able to slip it in somewhere between all these heavy academic tomes on the Gulf and this hanky-panky conference I'm attending in the UK next month.
Peace and love always <3
