User Reviews
Rating: really liked it
In his astonishing, unparalleled memoir, How We Fight For Our Lives, Saeed Jones writes of making his body into a weapon, a fierce thing that can cut. In these pages, Jones also makes language into a fierce, cutting weapon. How We Fight For Our Lives is a coming of age story, it is a love letter to a black single mother, it is an indictment of our culture that creates so little space for gay men to learn how to be who they truly are. Most of all, this memoir is a rhapsody in the truest sense of the word, fragments of epic poetry woven together so skillfully, so tenderly, so brutally, that you will find yourself aching in the way only masterful writing can make a person ache. How We Fight For Our Lives is that rare book that will show you what it means to be needful, to be strong, to be gloriously human and fighting for your life.
Rating: really liked it
I'm not sure how to rate this book. The author writes beautifully and the second part of the book is pretty much a song of love and gratitude towards his mother. 5 stars for the second part.
The first part? Well.! What the heck is it with some of these coming out memoirs by gay men that have to tell you about all the dick they've had??? As a lesbian, I definitely do
not enjoy hearing about dick. This book was similar to I Can't Date Jesus: Love, Sex, Family, Race, and Other Reasons I've Put My Faith in Beyoncé, another coming out memoir by a young black man that described a lot of sex acts. I can appreciate and identify with the questions and insecurities of growing up gay and feeling you're different. Worrying that people will hate you if they find out. Wondering if there is something inherently bad and wrong about you. Had Saeed Jones left it at those questions and feelings, I would have liked this book more. I don't see the need to talk graphically about having many sex partners, whether someone is gay, straight, or lesbian. Unless you're writing porn (which is fine if it's labelled as such) then I don't see the merit in adding graphic sex situations.
That was a big turn-off (ha ha!) for me with this book. Mr. Jones talks a little about the Black experience too, and I appreciated learning about the specific challenges for a gay Black man in America. I also loved reading about his mother, how he felt about her, their relationship that appeared strong and yet it was never clear whether she fully accepted his sexuality.
4 stars, though it would have been 5 if not for so much dick talk.
Rating: really liked it
I didn’t know what to expect going into this. I mostly know Saeed Jones from his Twitter presence, where he is known as @theferocity, and is very much living up to that title. He’s hilarious and deals out some incredibly sharp commentary when necessary. He’s also known for this reaction pic, which in many cases says more than any biting retort ever could:
But on the rare occasion I venture off of twitter dot com, it’s important to remember that (most) of the people on that site are actual human beings the rest of the time. And those of us that are familiar with the funny side of Saeed will have to reconcile that this is going to be a very moving memoir.
There is so much hurt in this book. And at times it feels relentless, coming at you from all sides. Where those that are supposed to love and care for you unconditionally can inadvertently do some of the most lasting harm. And even some people who you do not consider to be a meaningful part of your life have the ability to cut you further than anyone else could.
“The water is always deeper than it looks.”It’s harder than most people would think to write a good memoir. They’re my favorite nonfiction genre to read, but for that reason I’m probably a little tougher on them than other works. I feel like you need three things to push a memoir from adequate to excellent, which isn’t an easy feat. But then when someone’s able to pull it off, especially someone who doesn’t have fame and celebrity to trade on, you feel like you’ve discovered a hidden treasury of words and stories.
The first thing should be a given, and it’s honestly one of the most instantly noticeable things when picking up a piece of autobiographical nonfiction. The author needs to be a good writer. Obviously Saeed Jones is exceptional; his first published works were poetry collections, and he’s not new to writing outside of that. I don’t think you have to write with the same level of prose as Jones in order to succeed here, you just have to be able to tell your story in a distinct and compelling way. If you’re writing with a strong and identifiable voice, one that many people can connect to, then you can become a good writer. At least a writer good enough to speak on your own behalf.
The next thing I think potential memoir authors need is something that’s more of an issue with that subset of celebrity-written books that inevitably flood the market. You need to have stories worth telling. I have read a lot of these types of books, and the flops are usually by people who have lived a charmed life where the most interesting that happened to them was becoming famous. I don’t think you need a tragic backstory to become an author, but if you’re writing a book because an agent somewhere told you that should be your next “step”, please kindly......don’t. We get it, your dad is famous. Your parents were skeptical, but [financially] supportive. You suddenly got discovered because you’re too handsome. Chances are we’ve heard these exact stories in a 5 minute segment on a late night show, so what’s the point of printing it in a book if not for a money-grab or for an extra bit of pedigree on the resume?
Saeed Jones has so many stories to share. From his childhood into adolescence and adulthood, there’s no lack of cadence in his words. But the majority of what he talks about is not unique, even if it’s not exactly common, it’s still at least somewhat recognizable. The conversations left unspoken between a mother and a son. A struggle to balance between the person you currently are and the person you want to be. A plethora of both good and bad ‘firsts’—I know at the beginning of each chapter that this isn’t going to just be filler to get the story from A to B, but that it will have a
point.
And that brings me to the final thing that’s necessary to write a memoir: you need to have something to say. To a point that may be true for most, if not all, books. I do think there is more of a requirement with your own life story, though. What are you trying to impact on the reader? What do you want us to take away from what you’re writing? If you can’t answer those questions, then this probably isn’t the writing project for you, yet.
I don’t want to speak on Saeed’s behalf, especially since there’s an entire 192 pages where he explains himself much better than I could summarize in a Goodreads review, but Saeed Jones has plenty to say. Some of it is reflections on himself, some is an examination of societal norms or pressures, and some I think I’m only just starting to unpack. But not only was this a brilliant memoir from an extremely talented author, you can tell by the end that though
How We Fight For Our Lives is a triumph, it’s
really only a scratch on the surface. There’s so much more ahead for Jones’ writing career, should he want to continue, and I think we’d all be lucky to have the privilege to read whatever else he comes out with.
“People don’t just happen. We sacrifice former versions of ourselves. We sacrifice the people who dared to raise us. The ‘I’ it seems doesn’t exist until we are able to say, ‘I am no longer yours.’”
Rating: really liked it
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HOW WE FIGHT FOR OUR LIVES is such a great memoir. It's everything a "good" memoir should be-- sensual, moving, thoughtful, provoking, erotic, intense, and unique-- but it also opens up many meaningful discussions and dialogues about what it means to be black, what it means to be gay, what it means to be
both, and how it feels to be part of a group that is singled out, even from within members of each disparate community (hence the ever-important need for intersectionality in political movements).
Saeed is a really great memoirist. His writing is gorgeous and flows. This is one of the first memoirs I've read in a while that almost feels like fiction, in that the author is able to distance himself from, well, himself, and write personally and honestly about his experiences without making you feel like he's trying to apologize for being the way he is or offer some sort of narrative direction. It makes the memoir feel really personal, and at the same time, you also feel like you're watching a story unfold.
I don't really have any complaints about this book. Some people have said that they did not like Saeed's choices (I can kind of guess which ones), but experience makes us who we are. I'm pretty hard to shock at this point, and felt like this memoir was very tame compared to others I have read. I liked how he melded his story with the concerns many people have with regard to racism and discrimination, and the parts about his mother were heart-wrenching.
Definitely a must-read for those looking for great new books by black and/or LGBT+ authors.
Thanks to the publisher for sending me a copy in exchange for an honest review! 4 to 4.5 stars
Rating: really liked it
feeding my memoir addiction
update: holy moley. this was intense and excellent. won't be reviewing beyond that because this is so, so personal.
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reading all books with LGBTQ+ rep for pride this month!
book 1: the gravity of us
book 2: the great american whatever
book 3: wild beauty
book 4: the affair of the mysterious letter
book 5: how we fight for our lives
Rating: really liked it
Tell me more, please! I hardly ever say this, but this book was too short--I wanted more!
Saeed Jones is a fantastic storyteller, even when he is telling stories that are heartbreaking and difficult to read. His vignettes about finding his place as a young, gay black man from the South are powerful and vivid. There are age-old adages about how literature helps us understand others, and How We Fight For Our Lives is a window into experiences that are completely unlike my own.
I wanted more because the vignettes left some things out. Roughly 2/3 of the way through the memoir, Jones frames a traumatic event as a turning point for him. We're only given bits and pieces of how his thinking and behavior changed after this event, so I wanted to hear this part of the story, too.
The memoir ends in 2011, which seems like an odd stopping point for a very young man's story. Jones was born in 1985, so 2011-2019 is roughly a quarter of his life. I understand why he chose to end this memoir where he did, but I also wonder how he has grown since then.
Four stars. Read How We Fight for Our Lives if you're interested in a powerful account of the author's intersectional experience. (Readers should be forewarned that some content is graphic.)
Thanks to Simon & Schuster and NetGalley for giving me a DRC of this book, which will be available for purchase on October 8th.
Rating: really liked it
High 4 stars
How We Fight For Our Lives is a powerful short memoir. Saeed Jones is gay and black. He grew up in Texas with a single mother Buddhist convert who suffered from congenital heart disease. This memoir spans Jones’ life from ages 12 to 25. Jones gives his readers a raw taste of his life in that time span, including the rough ride he got from peers in high school and his successful but self-destructive self-reinvention as a student in at a small college in Kentucky. Jones also delves into the strong bond with his mother and the fractious relationship with the rest of his family. I loved Jones’ honesty. I also loved that he is not self-flattering or self-pitying. I especially loved the last part in which he deals so honestly with the grief of losing his mother at 25. I hope Jones produces other segments of his life in memoir form. Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for an opportunity to read an advance copy.
Rating: really liked it
I had listened to an interview with the author on an NPR podcast and it intrigued me enough to pick up this book. Jones has a very engaging style of writing that feels almost like fiction (in some cases, when he is abused for being gay you wish it were fiction!) It is strange to me, sometimes, when people who are still quite young - he is in his thirties - write memoirs, but Jones really does have an important and relevant story to tell and one that I am glad I had a chance to read. It is a short book, but I think it will stay with me for some time to come.
Thanks to Netgalley for supplying me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Find more reviews and bookish fun at http://www.princessandpen.com
Rating: really liked it
It brings me great pain and joy to know Saeed Jones’ How We Fight For Our Lives will be set upon us all. Pain for the collective loss and sorrow gay black boys have suffered, and joy in knowing that it is stories like these that will set us free.It’s been a month since I read Saeed Jones’
How We Fight For Our Lives, and I fumbled so long to put words to its visceral glamour. When I first heard of its arrival over the winter, I needed it immediately. To imagine the amount of blood, sweat, and tears Saeed must’ve sacrificed to saturate these pages is beyond me. What emerges from that offering is a story of a gay boy coming into the blackness of his body, its starkest desires and demands, and an anthem of unsung single black mothers who must raise their boys to be their own saviors before it’s too late.
Front to back, no other book has echoed so much of my own experience as a gay black boy like this. It took no effort at all to read Saeed’s story with an empathetic heart because I have been living this story in real time. There were so many instances I caught myself saying, “I know what that feels like too” and “Yes. Yes, that was me! That’s STILL me!”
"You never forget your first 'faggot.' Because the memory, in its way, makes you. It becomes a spine for the body of anxieties and insecurities that will follow, something to hang all that meat on. Before you were just scrawny; now you're scrawny because you're a faggot. Before you were just bookish; now you're bookish because you're a faggot.
Soon, bullies won't even have to say the word. Nor will friends, as they start to sit at different lunch tables without explanation. There will already be a voice in your head whispering 'faggot' for them."
I was pricked with my first N-word assault by another white boy whose vestige still haunts me in the faces of white men wanting to be friends, lovers, or bringers of harm. I watched my mother’s smile dissolve in the face of financial and spiritual uncertainty, and the tenacity with which she raged at every whisper of my sexuality and my little brother’s autism. I, too, have submitted to the dehumanizing fetishes of white men that can drive a vulnerable black boy to hate himself and others like him. I know the sting of falling for straight men capable of nothing more than breaking our hearts if not our whole being. And above all, I still tussle with the prodigious fear of a lonely, loveless life because of who I was born to be.
Thanks, Simon & Schuster friends, for sending me this remarkable book — and Saeed Jones, for sharing your light with the world. ❤️
If you liked my review, feel free to follow me @parisperusing on Instagram.
Rating: really liked it
Saeed Jones writes about growing up black and gay in a family that preferred not to have its secrets spoken out loud. He went on to college in Kentucky which had its own challenges but it is also where he found his voice as a writer. I particularly loved the family dynamics - single mother and Buddhism in the south makes for some great moments. How Saeed is tokenized and/or overlooked for hookups aligns with what I've heard from other black men, but no less disheartening. I look forward to reading his poetry and anything else from this point forward.
Rating: really liked it
This book first came up on my radar when I heard the author interviewed on my favorite podcast last year, and it feels like my library hold for it came in at exactly the right time. How We Fight for Our Lives chronicles Saeed Jones coming of age as a Black gay man in the South in the late 90’s and 2000’s. Jones’s background in poetry is evident in the quality and flow of the writing, because this is one of my most beautifully written memoirs I’ve read in quite some time. It’s not always an easy read, but it’s one I’m so glad exists. If you’re looking to read some nonfiction by queer Black authors this Pride month or any other time of the year, I can’t recommend this one enough.
Rating: really liked it
Very, very good.
Review to come.
Rating: really liked it
is it illegal to give a book five stars before even reading it?
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Rating: really liked it
This book is soooo good. Saeed Jones is a force. His skills as a poet is fully evident in the prose of this book. Sexuality. Humanity. Blackness. Family. Grief. It’s all in here. He is vulnerable and he is genius and just wow!
Rating: really liked it
Saeed Jone’s How We Fight For Our Lives was the queer Black memoir exploring adolescence, striving, self loathing, racism in the gay community, intimate partner violence, grief, poverty, and that quintessential imperfect profoundly complex relationship between a son and his mother that everyone needs to read. This book, read by the author himself, is so beautiful and so honest and so full of peer and also hope and also pain. It’s an elegy to so much that Jones has clearly worked to grow through amongst some enormous loss and terrifying violence, and an entire nation state fighting against his very survival. I want more of this voice and more voices like it. A book I loved from beginning to end, and one I would easily read again, pick this one up for Pride month and for always.
