The Tamesis
Novel by Salma El-Wardani these impossible things When I first read this book in 2022, I was struck by the opening sentence: “Do you think Eid sex is a thing? Like birthday sex, but only Muslim sex?” I remember finishing the nearly 400-page story about three British Muslim friends in two days, then falling into a reading slump. Why aren’t there more books like this that delve into the complexities of Muslim women?
Novels about female Muslims once relied on two main character tropes: the pious, veiled woman with an ironclad moral code, and the oppressed girl who rebelled against cultural norms and sought liberation from her family and faith.
But over the past few years, Muslim writers have created uplifting and original stories that treat faith as a cornerstone of identity, not a stumbling block. 2025 Mariam Rahmani’s film to be released liquidThe novel tells the story of a Los Angeles academic who vows to go on 100 dates to find her husband, but a family tragedy brings her to Tehran. 2024 daughters of the nileZahra Barri explores Arab and Muslim feminism and sexuality from the perspectives of three different generations of Egyptian women. And in 2023 Hijab Butch Blues, Lamya H (pseudonym) bravely reimagines the stories of important women in Islamic history and points to parallels with her own contemporary struggles.
In the YA space, authors like SK Ali (Untimeliness in love) and Tasnim Abdul-Rashid (weird girl out) expands the face of Muslim coming-of-age stories, helping young Muslims see themselves in literature: wearing a hijab and overcoming Islamophobia, but also trying to fit in and fall in love.
At the same time, writing about Muslim women flourished in the nonfiction realm. The authors are re-examining the historical narratives of faith and feminism pitted against each other, particularly when it comes to Islam. Muslim journalist Shahed Ezaydi in The Other Woman: How White Feminism Hurts Muslim Womenwhich will be released next month. Candid and relatable, this book brings a breath of fresh air to a literary field where texts are often academic, obscure, and intimidating to the average reader.
When I started writing my novel, Turbulence (out now via Dreamwork Collective), the work of all these authors is inspiring. My protagonist, Dunya Dawood, is learning to separate the essence of Islam from the patriarchal interpretations that tend to obscure it. Dounia is pregnant, and on a flight back to New York from the Middle East, she reflects on the choices she made – giving up her filmmaking dreams for marriage and motherhood – when a shocking discovery leads to her going into labor.
What’s important to me is that Dunia avoids common Muslim female tropes. She is on an ongoing spiritual journey between learning, loving, and questioning her faith. When Dunia’s friend Shifa encourages her to challenge traditions that are considered divinely mandated, some questions arise in her mind. Why Do Women praying behind men? How is the hijab not only a symbol of piety but also a symbol of political solidarity? What would gender equality look like for modern married Muslim couples?
We are taught that Islam liberated and empowered women at the time of revelation, so why does it so often fail today? Men have been dictating what it means to be a Muslim for centuries, but does that mean their dictations are set in stone? These conversations have left many of us who are committed to our faith and identify as feminists conflicted and confused.
