
Olwyn's story is a concentrated hymn to slackers and bogans everywhere. All those ex-hippies, all those old metallers, all those drug-addled potheads have found, at last, their laureate. She understands them, she can paint them with devastating wit and accuracy — but, above all, they amuse her. One feels almost as Sargeson's first readers must have felt when his Kiwi characters started Speaking For Themselves.
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