I requested Medusa of the Roses because its themes resonated with a conversation I had at a queer open mic in 2020. Two Iranian women were present and told us about their experiences with gender identity in a society where such expressions are heavily policed. The older one said that if she had stayed in Iran, she probably would’ve “just gotten the surgery” even though she identified as a woman, since she didn’t care so much what gender she presented as. The younger one had actually gotten a ‘star’ on some sort of official paper (maybe her passport?) because she got outed and refused to transition. That star hindered her from some opportunities like attending university. Their stories stayed with me, and as I read Medusa of the Roses, I found myself reflecting on these conversations.

One aspect that was really intruiging to me was the novel’s refusal to present a romanticized, idealized love story. Instead, Sinaki delves into the complexities and imperfections of the central relationship. The novel doesn’t shy away from portraying a bond that is as toxic as it is tender. When one character asks, “You guys have something special?” Anjir, one of the protagonists, responds truthfully with “something especially rotten.” This exchange encapsulates the novel’s exploration of a love that has been twisted over time—a childhood connection that has become a source of both comfort and pain. It’s clear that Anjir still sees the child in Zal who was tormented by his own fears and insecurities: “You carried me along because I understood you. I knew you were too afraid to own anything feminine, so you pretended spoons were dolls and tore off your shirt buttons just to have an excuse to sew.”

The “literary noir” aspect of the story was less compelling for me. Anjir’s quest to uncover what happened to Zal seemed secondary to the more pressing realization that this relationship is harmful to him and that there’s still so much love, platonic or romantic, to be felt for other people.
Upon a second reading, I did notice subtle clues throughout the book that hinted at the final twist, which I appreciae, but ultimately, the big reveal felt a bit melodramatic.

Stylistically, Medusa of the Roses lives up to its evocative title, brimming with poetic language and rich, aesthetic imagery. The narrator, Anjir, finds poetry in everything around him, projecting his emotions onto flowers, vines, stray cats, mythological figures, and the moon. This lyrical style extends to the characters’ speech as well, with lines like, “You look like a riddle that’s half-finished,” showcasing Sinaki’s talent for crafting memorable, poetic dialogue. The novel is also filled with literary references and musings.

Overall, Medusa of the Roses is a thought-provoking novel that explores the complexities of love and self-discovery. While it couldn’t wow me as a literary noir, the novel’s poetic style and nuanced portrayal of a deeply flawed relationship made it a memorable read.

Thank you NetGalley for the eARC :)

Thanks Netgalley for the ARC in exchange for a free review.

2.5 stars

Anjir and Zal's relationship is constantly endangered due to being queer in Iran. When Zal is assaulted by a group of man after being seen with a younger man, Anjir must cope with the trauma of the assault and his partner's infidelity. And Anjir will do anything to ensure he is with Zal.

I was really into this one during the first 50 pages. Neither of these characters are particularly good people. Zal is abrasive, unfaithful and uncommunicative. Anjir is manipulative, cunning and only cares about survival (and his toxic relationship with Zal).

After a while Anjir's dependence on Zal became grating. This is also one of the most unsexy books about sex I've ever encountered. Everything for Anjir leads back to sex and its written in a rather grotesque way.

I'd like to read a trans perspective on this book as I was unsure about how Anjir's transition was handled. The author writes about Anjir's connection to Tiresias but that is dropped pretty quickly and not further fleshed out, rather transitioning seemed to be a means to an end to be with Zal, but it seemed like the author didn't want to commit to Anjir being trans or him just wanting to be with Zal in whatever way he could. Even an indication that it was a little of both would have been helpful but there was no clear motive. It was just like pasta being thrown at the wall and then the author shrugging being like "I don't know, I'm sure it's one of those."

I liked the unlikeable narrators and learning about being part of the LGBTQIA+ community in Iran however, there were parts that were overwritten and parts that needed further work. Towards the end it became more of a duty to finish.

Sinaki’s writing is so lyrical but it ultimately slows down what is actually a fast-paced story. It distracts from the rawness of the story, making the characters and their feelings so abstract as to be nonexistent. While I did devour the story, I am left with a taste for something *more*

Medusa of the Roses by Navid Sinaki is a gritty, noirish cinematic novel that delves into the complexity of queer lives in modern Tehran. It combines a romantic story with the allure of ancient mythos in an almost surrealist narrative. The protagonists are complex, with questionable motives. Still, the secret longings and tension surrounding plot twists make the story come alive in a poignant tale of love and danger under homophobic social regimes. The characters reflect a multitude of hidden lives, an amalgamation of many stories to tell one of longing and solitude, an echoed feeling throughout our queer community. I loved how unique and spellbinding the language of the story was, and how the characters and their secrets kept you on your toes throughout. The aesthetic atmosphere of the story, the surrealist touches, and the fever-dream scenes make for a contemplative read that also opens the door to unheard stories—a work of visibility and the many ways we can exist in this world.

Happy Publication day to Medusa of the Roses !

The story follows childhood friends Anjir and Zal, who fall in love as adults. In a society unforgiving of their love, Zal is attacked, prompting Anjir to pursue their plan for Zal to transition, allowing them to live together as husband and wife in another city.

Medusa of the Roses delves into the pervasive homophobia in Iran and its impact on those who defy heteronormative standards. Written in a lyrical, Siken-esque style with references to Greek and Persian myths, the book blends literary noir fiction with themes of violence, addiction, obsession, and mystery.

The author’s poetic language vividly brings the story to life, creating a world that feels both magical and real. However, while the prose is undeniably great, the heavy use of symbolism became overwhelming for me, and many of the references to Greek myths went over my head.




Thank you to Netgalley and Grove Press for an advanced reader's copy of Medusa of the Roses.

Hauntingly beautiful story that explores gender and love in a setting completely new to me. This book is beautiful and I hope that people will consider the complexity of the characters while engaging with this book. the intrigue and melancholy run deep in the veins of this work, and I know it will stick with me for a long time.

Thank you to Netgalley, the author, and Grove Atlantic for the ARC in exchange for this review

This was one of the first literary novels I read and it was a journey.

To make clear from the start, I did enjoy this book. But I am a complete newbie to literary novels which will be the perspective this review will be written from. It took me a very long time to get into it. I was not used to the way the words flowed. They were written beautifully with a lot of words giving strong images, but it was new to me. When I got used to it eventually though I really started enjoying it. They gave a lot of beautiful feelings to the story and added a lot to what was happening.

The story itself was really interesting. It started intense immediately for the story to calm down a bit afterwards. The start of the main characters partner being attacked was a lot and made me feel for both men from the start. When it's then revealed the partner was attacked because he was with another man things changed with how I felt about him, but at the same time I kept hoping he would be okay.

There is a big part of the book where the main character meets a trans woman. I liked it how she was a character with her own background and personality. Her stress around bottom surgery was relatable to me as I am in my own process of working towards that as a trans man and it was interesting to see this included in the book.

<spoiler>The part where the main character starts transitioning to be with his love interest had me hold my breath a little bit as a trans person. I was worried about it being handled with sensitivity but it ended up being quite okay. I can imagine that if transitioning is the only way to legally be with your partner, it is something someone wants to try out. I was hoping to see any type of dysphoria mentioned, that being dysphoric over looking feminine, or dysphoria over still looking too masculine but that didn't happen in the story. Such things were not included and it made me feel a bit disconnected from this part of the story. But at the same time I thought it was decently okay.</spoiler>

The ending was quite open and vague for me. I do want to acknowledge this might be because of my autism and new venture into literary fiction, as it often happened I wouldn't exactly know what was going on. But it had some style about the ending I still quite liked.

Concluding this is an interesting story to read about a gay life in Tehran where the main character is trying to grasp what happened to their partner in an attack.

Steeped in human complexity, Medusa and the Roses is a devastating but gripping look into what it is to love in a society that will see you dead for it.

Strikingly honest, this book reads like a love letter to an idea of a life, rather than that life itself. It’s smart, and insightful, and makes no apologies about its protagonist being deeply flawed and unlikeable at times.

There were lines throughout that felt somewhat disconnected from the rest of the text, and it felt decidedly as though very little happened until suddenly it all happened at once. I would have liked for things to have a slightly more consistent pacing. You can build intrigue and suspense without being jarring.

Overall though, it was an interesting read that urged an emotional response.

Medusa of the Roses is briming with intrigue, melancholy, and Eastern promises and lies. Anjir is on a journey searching for the love of his life and is constantly met with obstacles both real and imagined. I enjoyed this book and the writer's expressive use of color and mythology.

Thank you to Grove Press and Net Galley for the ARC.

I think most of us love the honorable thief in fiction. Stories abound over the generations that feature a good person forced to steal by an unjust system, by a pressing external need, or just to redress the wild imbalance of power over one's person. Robin Hood, Locke Lamora, Aladdin, and their literary kin are enshrined in the cultural conversation. Mythology's trickster gods, those agents of chaos, are...witness Loki as embodied by Tom Hiddleston here and now...endlessly popular because no one doesn't love a funny, witty piss-take.

Then there's Jean Genet. DEFINITELY not a comfortably admirable character to most people, a petty thief and prostitute whose actions as a very incompetent thief (he kept getting caught!) earned him the 1940s French version of a three-strikes law conviction. No one ever tried to pretend he was in the Resistance. Who cared what language the jailers spoke? He stole and sold his body because he didn't like the other options...wholly self-motivated, probably a narcissist, but magnetically interesting and embodying anti-establishment Cool.

Now, after years of disuse, we have Anjir from that mold. He and his love Zal must be together. Funds for transitioning to female aren't coming from the government that demands he take this step...which, to be fair, isn't one he resists...so he steals.

Living in theocratic Iran is awful enough for AFAB women.Think how much more horrifying it would be to be an AMAB man-loving man who, deliberately and consistently, acts "like a woman"...has sex with and enters into romanitic partnerships with men. A complete affront to Male Privilege! An assault on God's Will! God put men on top! DON'T BOTTOM!! Or, if you really must, then transition to female.

I totally support trans rights. I am not in any way trans, have no desire to be female, dislike pretty intensely my culture's hideous fun-house mirror idea of "femininity" and would strongly prefer to be dead rather than forced to conform to what I see as a ghastly disfiguring joke of an identity. Yet, if gay men want to live and love their partnered lives, that is what their theocratic government tells them to do.

I live in fear of the US right-wingnuts figuring out their transphobia can be redeployed.

What I enjoyed about my ride through modern Iran was the sense I got of a society on the boil. Stuff is happening in this book, stuff that's out of most people's sight, but is building up pressure and will blow a hole in the status quo. The author has crafted an avatar of selfish anti-social action who represents, just by his existence, Resistance!

Told in beautiful sentences, this story of Love, Passion, and Honesty draws on millennia of models for its men's identities. It is a read I won't soon forget or easily allow to slip under the newer reads to come.

Medusa of the Roses follows Anjir and his childhood best friend and lover Zal, navigating life in Tehran where homosexuality is criminalised. After a brutal betrayal and abandonment, Anjir searches for Zal and grapples with what he needs to do to have a future with Zal.

I was really excited to receive an advanced copy of this one because I am a big fan of a complex queer tale and have been trying to diversify my reading more. Unfortunately, I was a little let down by this.

The main issue I had with Medusa of the Roses was the lack of a fleshed out and well-explored internal journey regarding transitioning to a woman. Even though it is stated in the synopsis that this is a longstanding plan for their future, the first mentions of this felt plucked out of nowhere in the text and I wish it were explored in more depth.

“Perhaps if I were a woman, I would know how to keep a man. The thought is arbitrary enough to stay.”

I do, however, understand the significance of Anjir’s willingness to undergo this huge transformation just to be with the man he loves freely. Sinaki’s bold and poetic political commentary shines a light on the modern reality for many queer people in countries where they continue to criminalise LGBT groups.

Despite a few issues with the book, it was still an enjoyable read and I found the pacing well done. The prose is quite nice and the title was perfectly apt, I was fond of the mythology themes. The characters each had some form of moral deficit, yet still tolerable and understandable. Thank you NetGalley for the copy.

A deeply sad, psychologically rich, and truly gripping read. Sinaki’s writing evokes the lush and bitter language of Ocean Vuong, the sharp storytelling of K-Ming Chan’s shorts, and the sociopolitical irony of Kevah Akbar’s Martyr.

There are a few moments of clumsiness—notably, details of setting and plot motion that feel unclear or ambiguous, which I think slows down the fast-paced noir as the reader struggles to keep up. While much of the prose is gorgeous and maddeningly honest, there are also several lines that feel like they’re doing too much, or trying so hard to cut deeply they end up falling flat. These moments are pretty infrequent, though, and ultimately don’t really stand out against the lines that do truly sting and echo in the mind.

While I wish some of the characters were explored more deeply, I do think the deep psychoanalysis of Anjir serves its purpose to ask the questions Sinaki seems to be asking—mainly, how can something so frivolous and constructed as gender compare to the incomparably physical and tangible experience of first love?

Ultimately a great debut from a super smart artist and I am excited to see more fiction from him!

A beautiful book, quite unlike anything I’ve read before.

After a violent attack on Anjor’s lover Zal, Anjir, who I would say falls under a form of non-binary, transitions to live as a woman, as in Iran being gay is punishable by death but being trans is acceptable (though never easy or fully accepted). That’s just the very general gist of the plot - the story itself is much more complex and feels almost dreamlike. It weaves together mythology, past and present, Anjir’s relationship with Zal as well as a trans woman called Leyli and various family members.

The prose is beautiful, as is the imagery. I especially liked the depiction of Anjir’s relationship with his mother and uncle - I feel like familial relationships were explored really well and I found them to be the most touching part of the book.

I mostly requested an ARC of this because as a trans person I was curious about how it would approach transition motivated by social circumstances rather than gender incongruence. In Anjir’s case transition is a matter of safety, but it also seemed to me that while they were happy as a man, they would also be happy as woman. I don’t really know how to articulate my thoughts in relation to gender in this book, but it was an interesting perspective and written respectfully towards trans people.

This book sucked me in and didn't let go until I finished reading. The prose was beautifully written, and the story was thought provoking. I will be honest, this was still kind of difficult to rate though. There were times the prose became too abstract or wasn't clear that the writing had shifted to a thought instead of the main plot. It made it tricky for me to know what was going on at all times. The 1st person narration from the main character can be kind of intense sometimes. He's quite a sexual person, so I felt some of that inner dialogue had some moments that were a bit uncomfortable. It had me wondering how much he really loved the person he was with instead of just feeling lust. That being said, I did enjoy this book. I do think literary fiction readers will likely love it as well. The story was incredibly emotional and tragic. This was my first LGBTQIA book based in Iran. It was hard to read about the reality for queer people living there where it is more culturally acceptable to come out as transgender than to be in a same sex relationship. Definitely feel it is important to continue to read about and listen to people experiencing this in other cultures.

A dark and compelling look at the perils of being your true self in Iran. Zal and Anjir have been committed to one another since their youth but Zal first married Mahtob and then later was seen with a younger man, putting their plan to move to Isfahan where they hope to live as man and wife after Anjir transitions. But Zal disappears and Anjir must hunt for him through the nightmare. This incorporates myth and Persian cultural mores in a way which Impresses. If the prose feels purple in spots, remember the Persian respect for poetry. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. For fans of literary fiction.

This was a tough one for me. I liked the writing, the imagery, and the exposure to the brutal anti-LGBTQ culture of Iran. The book felt like a nightmare from beginning to end. The story is told from Anjir's point of view in present tense and his lover, Zal, is always addressed in second person.

The plot seemed drawn from US noir novels and films from the 1940's. There is much lying, cheating, murdering and other violence going on--and that seemed to take away from the main plot concern--how do two men who love each other (do they?) survive under extreme religious oppression. No one here is innocent. The bleakness and cynicism may work for some. For me, the author focused too much on mythical parallels (Tiresias is the main one) and fate. I ended up not caring about any of the characters and confused as to the point of the overly-convoluted plot. What could have been an excellent study of two gay men living under an oppressive regime got lost along the way.

Thanks to NetGalley for this ARC.

I reached for this title because I wanted to branch out and read more literary fiction. I filed it as a DNF, because I think "difficult" queer books are just not my thing - I'm a gay who likes happy gays - but as a bookseller I absolutely endorse this Medusa of the Roses.

As a lover of sad books, I found "Medusa of the Roses" to be an 'enjoyable' read.

This is a lyrical story that follows Anjir, a gay man in Iran. We focus on Anjir, as he discovers both his partner's infidelity and their attack on the same night, unraveling the story and actions that led to that moment as we read through. Sinaki creates a captivating world where the past and present meet, highlighting the persecution faced by queer and trans people in modern-day Iran.

The main character's journey is deeply engaging. The author’s poetic and descriptive language bringing the story to life, making it feel both magical and real. Some readers might find the heavy use of metaphor and symbolism a bit much, but for me, it was beautifully curated.

Thankyou to netgalley and the publisher for an e-arc in exchange for an honest review.

Please check the tws before reading this book as it deals with some distressing themes.

Not really sure how I feel after reading this book.

Zal and Anjir were just boys when they became friends. That friendship grew into love, until Zal married a woman. In Iran, being gay could get you killed. So Zal would sneak away from his wife for precious weekends with Anjir. But when Zal was attacked by a group of men when he was caught with another man, Anjir is devastated. When Zal gets out of the hospital, Anjir nurses him back to health.

That's when Anjir decides to make plans for their future by undergoing surgery to become a woman. Then they wouldn't have to hide their relationship anymore. But when Zal leaves Anjir's place with a cryptic note that he doesn't understand, he starts looking for him everywhere. Soon Anjir's being followed but has no idea as to why.

"Thank you to NetGalley for allowing me to read this ARC.

This was extremely literary. The writing style at times reminded me of a noir film. The author is a filmmaker and poet and that comes through pretty strongly. While we are following Anjir in the forward plot, he often goes spiraling down memories of his and Zal’s lives. We get to see their whole relationship through things that remind him of Zal, usually of a sexual situation.

All of the murder and thrillery stuff happens very quickly near the end, though Anjir has been investigating the whole time. The whole story is tragic, and no one in this book, except for Anjir’s mom, is likeable. Myths were promised and delivered in vague terms through Anjir’s conversations with his mother who has suffered a TBI. Less myth and more noir tragedy?

I was hoping this would be for me, but it wasn't quite. The writing was beautiful and tragic but the format of the story wasn't one that I gravitate toward.