This is one of the most difficult books I have ever read. I really hate poetry, and that is essentially all this is. I persevered with it, because it is also the strangest Australian novel I've ever read. I still can't pinpoint exactly when it was set (my best guess is the late depression, as there is no mention of war at any point), and given the whole "scandalous" cross-dressing theme, it would have really helped to understand why the girls were being chased by police for wearing trousers. Surely it wasn't that weird by then? It was however, utterly fascinating to read a book that actually mentioned the interesting ethnic makeup of Australian society early last century, I was under the entirely mistaken impression that the White Australia policy had been in full swing by then, and was very surprised to have so many Indian, Italian, Afghan and even Chinese characters feature so prominently. This is countered by some really lavish doses of racist white superiority, which, sadly was more in keeping with my expectations. Steve is an insufferable bore, and if we'd met in real life there is no way I could tolerate her histrionic, tragic romanticising. I do feel sorry for her, like she's been born in the wrong time. She'd probably be a damn sight happier now, without the ridiculous social restrictions to hamper her. The simple action of being able to wear a pair of trousers without fear of being socially ostracised or even run out of town is definitely something to be grateful for!

I've been meaning to read this book for many years. Ruth Park was friends with Eve Langley, and mentioned the book and Eve's tragic end in her autobiography. I absolutely adore Ruth Park, so I was very curious to see what this one was about. If (like me) you skip over the poems, you're left with beautiful, earthy depictions of Australian rural life and landscapes. The story is full of eccentric larrikin characters and offers a really interesting insight to the grinding poverty experienced by migrant and itinerant workers, as well as the simple pleasures and joys of their daily lives. I don't regret persevering with it, even though it was a really go-nowhere kind of book. I doubt there will ever be a greater love-letter written about Gippsland.