I…feel like a bit of a weasel “this book is important, but reading it was a slog” is like such a half-assed review. 
What’s interesting about it in particular is the cultural construction of feminisms, which Eltahawy is obviously aware of and also elides because she’s interested in the ways that, when Black feminists say something that resonates with her, she can use it to continue constructing her feminism. (A good thing; she’s very conscientious about redeeming the world by giving credit where it’s due.) But it means that this book ends up being an investigation into feminism, which took root in Islam and grew elsewhere. And it was very clear where she had spent time forging solidarity and where she hadn’t. Which, again, not a knock on her, she’s done a LOT. But as a book, it’s got a very specific stance and isn’t thinking about what that stance looks like when other people stand in it. (The two that stood out for me were disability as nearly absent and trans people as subjects rather than objects of pity.) Eltahawy absolutely didn’t need to engage with them, but the universal prescriptivism of the book felt like it needed more awareness or less “this is the way”. 
But, like, fine. Not the reason for the rating. The point is that this book is eight essays and they are all the same style and it was…exhausting. Sometimes she got me to reach righteous anger, but mostly I felt like every new chapter was just the same chapter as before with different anecdotes, but the same point. The split into seven sins didn’t really work for me because it felt like there were three—power, violence, and lust—where she had something different to say and even then the arc just never varied. 
It’s not that this book could have been an article, although this framework would have worked much better as one. It just could have been a better book.