In a recent article ‘Islamic Sexology’ that I read on the aeon.com, I came across the idea and the underlying literature about eroticism in Islam – a religion, where we have been taught that enjoying sex is as taboo as the sex itself. In that article, the author Mark Hay expanded on the existing literature about the erotic sex in Islam, which were mostly Arabic.
It was there that I came across this short book by Neimi, herself a Syrian-born Arab, who have mostly lived in Paris – the city of sex (as one reads in Henry Miller’s erotic novels). Neimi’s book is a book that celebrates sex in Islam; after all God himself created this unmatchable, profound, and elevating act of coition.
Although this isn’t my first erotic book to read (I have read and watched erotica before: Miller’s ‘Tropic of Cancer’, and the brilliant movie ‘Malena’, to name a few) this was indeed my first ever book on Islamic erotica – something I didn’t know existed.
It is Ramadan at this time to the year, and my plan was to read books on Islam, mostly nonfiction. But after reading nonfiction for more than 3 weeks, I craved a fiction, excitement, something to recharge me to keep going. Then I remembered Neimi’s book and instantly downloaded it. Let me say this once and for all: this book has one of the most beautiful and catching titles ever, and an equally erotic book cover to go along with it. Therefore, I would be lying if I say that I didn’t hesitate before starting this book: to be reading an erotica in the month of Ramadan where we’re supposed to keeps all things evil at bay, sex being evilest of them all especially for a virgin, reading such a book could definitely ruin my piousness.
But hey, it is about Islam nonetheless, right? And to learn about sex within Islam from a book, where otherwise it is taboo to talk about it, is already a noble act in itself. Nevertheless, reading this book, despite my intellectual and moral reasonings, proved to be challenging.
Neimi, being a well-read person of Arab erotica, knows how to excite the sexuality of a body, be it a male body or female. Even in its translation, Neimi’s book transmits the domestic qualities of Arab and French literature, where the former is almost nostalgic and the later arousing as always. The book is part memoir, part essays – and wholly sexy and beautiful.
Neimi talks about her sexual journeys and pervasiveness from teenage years where she read Arab erotica in secret, then to her lover and partner in crime, The Thinker, with whom the books she once read materialized and became her adult secret. It was The Thinker who unveiled her to her own desired, ‘taught her what she already knew’ – made her a woman. It is through The Thinker that we get aroused; I had a tough time hiding my boners; but the story that Neimi tells around him is what completes this book as an important read.
Within Islamic context, Neimi comments on how pleasure is not only allowed but key during sex, how Arab women and men have their unending secrets, how their culture is filled with dirty desires; how men take ‘Viagra’ and how women have a duty to make their husbands pleased and proud on their sexual performance; and then she talks about sexuality of water, taste of semen, eroticism of collective baths, Arab ingredients to better sexuality, and so on. Yet it was the last chapter, where Neimi writes so poignantly and beautifully, that brought this book home for me. What a ride!
Ratings: 5/5 ***** April 30,
2021_