Filled with wit and observation, the author's third volume of poetry solidifies her reputation as one of the break-out stars of the contemporary New Zealand scene.
Not for me, but that's ok, each to their own! We are of different generations perhaps & I found the writing a bit literal for my tastes ~ the language is a bit plain rather than the whimsical gravitas I'm drawn to, as if the writer is just describing something they saw or an experience they had that's interesting to them but you're not sure how it connects to you or the wider experience of the collective. Which isn't to say this isn't an entirely valid form of poetry which will have value to other readers & most importantly, the writer! I'm just not sure if it said anything to me specifically, or what it all meant in the end. Always a pleasure to read the work of other poets though :)
Mostly poetry in the confessional vein (written before she was Bok-again). Some very fine, moving work in here. Unfortunately a few poems in I realised Camp is in batshit crazy love with similes; there's scarcely a poem without one (or several). And it's not that her similes are poor--they're usually very good--it's just that once you become aware of a writer's personal cliches they smack you in the face every time you experience them thereafter, which often ends up being quite distracting.
Wasn't sure about the first couple but by the time I got to 'Hamilton International Airport' I was sold. "Here you go, he said, we happen to be a nation / that has carried out a lot of its history in sheds." So true.