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The Scarecrow
'The same week our fowls were stolen, Daphne Moran had her throat cut.'
Neddy Poindexter's sister, Prudence, has turned sixteen and is the prettiest girl in Klynham. Neddy can't protect her from the men in town, but can he protect her from the killer on the loose?
Part boys' own adventure, part small-town comedy and part horrifying thriller, The Scarecrow is of its own kind, an unexpected and irresistible masterpiece.
'One of the most unusual and original novels published in this country for many a long day' - Sydney Morning Herald.
Neddy Poindexter's sister, Prudence, has turned sixteen and is the prettiest girl in Klynham. Neddy can't protect her from the men in town, but can he protect her from the killer on the loose?
Part boys' own adventure, part small-town comedy and part horrifying thriller, The Scarecrow is of its own kind, an unexpected and irresistible masterpiece.
'One of the most unusual and original novels published in this country for many a long day' - Sydney Morning Herald.
211 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1963
12 people are currently reading
254 people want to read
About the author
Ronald Hugh Morrieson
10 books13 followersJames Ronald Hugh Morrieson died at 50, a sad and disappointed man. His remark, ‘I hope I’m not another one of these poor buggers who get discovered when they’re dead’ became a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Morrieson was born on 29 January 1922 and lived his entire life in the house built by his grandfather at the corner of Regent Street and South Road, Hawera. A novelist and short story writer in the New Zealand vernacular, who was little known in his home country until after his death. He earned his living as a musician and music teacher, and played in dance bands throughout south Taranaki. Morrieson lived in the Taranaki town of Hawera all his life and this town appears (under other names) in his novels. He was a heavy drinker throughout his life and this contributed to his early death.
Morrieson was born on 29 January 1922 and lived his entire life in the house built by his grandfather at the corner of Regent Street and South Road, Hawera. A novelist and short story writer in the New Zealand vernacular, who was little known in his home country until after his death. He earned his living as a musician and music teacher, and played in dance bands throughout south Taranaki. Morrieson lived in the Taranaki town of Hawera all his life and this town appears (under other names) in his novels. He was a heavy drinker throughout his life and this contributed to his early death.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 59 reviews
March 29, 2020
On the way home from somewhere, I noticed that our local op shop had a bookshelf out on its verandah. I picked up six books for which I still owe $3, the shop being shut then, and for the duration of the Thing. Luckily for me, one of the books was The Scarecrow. The copy is the text classics edition, one of the series inspired by Di Gribble.
New Zealanders will have to forgive me for listing this under Australia. If you want our dole money then quit complainin'. The rural setting and the appalling drinking surely could come from the Australian backblocks. But this has an assurance and a 'I'll do this how I darn well please' attitude that are pure NZ.
The assurance is not polished, it's the confidence of existing with no natural predators. That's NZ for you. Only a confident and inexperienced writer could even think of writing this book, let alone bring it into the world. The young teenager's view is honest, witty, scared, sexual, full of the bravado which shows its true colours fast enough. All this creates a really beautiful small town story and that, despite the ugliness of it. Yes, it stacks up though it's hard to understand how.
rest here: https://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpre...
New Zealanders will have to forgive me for listing this under Australia. If you want our dole money then quit complainin'. The rural setting and the appalling drinking surely could come from the Australian backblocks. But this has an assurance and a 'I'll do this how I darn well please' attitude that are pure NZ.
The assurance is not polished, it's the confidence of existing with no natural predators. That's NZ for you. Only a confident and inexperienced writer could even think of writing this book, let alone bring it into the world. The young teenager's view is honest, witty, scared, sexual, full of the bravado which shows its true colours fast enough. All this creates a really beautiful small town story and that, despite the ugliness of it. Yes, it stacks up though it's hard to understand how.
rest here: https://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpre...
April 21, 2026
Ooh, the cheekiness, the scabrousness of Morrieson’s writing – the crazy balancing of tones. Who else would decide to blend a coming-of-age comedy with a grimy, Jim-Thompsonesque crime thriller? Yet somehow both elements work and, even more remarkably, fit together pretty well.
The setting is the little town of Klynham on New Zealand’s North Island – the kind of small town that looks charming and bucolic from the outside, but which feels like a seething mass of secrets and resentments from the inside. Our narrator, fourteen-year-old Neddy Poindexter, is struggling with the usual teenage anxieties: friction with a local gang of bullies, chronic lack of money, and surging hormones that have him lusting over the girls’ basketball team.
Neddy reports the speech of his characters in broad Kiwi accents with plenty of contemporary slang (‘I let out one yell tuh wake the dead and took to muh scrapers’), and it all feels like the trappings of a comic tale of carefree youth. And indeed, a lot of it is joyously funny. But there’s a dark undertone to the antics. Neddy finds himself, in an unguarded moment, fantasising even about his older sister Prudence; it’s innocent enough, but it’s a reminder of things that aren’t so innocent. The bullies who harass him have designated one boy as a kind of catamite, to play with until they get girlfriends of their own, and we glimpse some of these adolescent rituals with troubled feelings. The comedy drunks in the hotel bar provide a punchline to many scenes, but their drinking is shown to be destructive and sinister.
The possible end-point of all these ‘comic’ elements is crystallised in the figure of Hubert Salter, a tall and cadaverously thin stranger who arrives in town to upset the local stasis. He is (as Prudence whispers, using that ubiquitous antipodean suffix) a ‘sex-oh’ who has raped and killed a girl, not necessarily in that order, in the next city along. Now the urge is coming over him once more.
The way Morrieson mixes the two elements of his story, comedy and horror, is quite alarming – and impressive, except that it feels almost more like a matter of instinct and temperament than of art. Klynham is based on Morrieson’s native Hawera, which he never left, dying of drink at the age of fifty almost entirely unrecognised. But this is a great novel, unpicking the horror that lurks behind small-town charm, and reclaiming, almost heroically, the simple goodness of human life in the face of it.
The setting is the little town of Klynham on New Zealand’s North Island – the kind of small town that looks charming and bucolic from the outside, but which feels like a seething mass of secrets and resentments from the inside. Our narrator, fourteen-year-old Neddy Poindexter, is struggling with the usual teenage anxieties: friction with a local gang of bullies, chronic lack of money, and surging hormones that have him lusting over the girls’ basketball team.
Neddy reports the speech of his characters in broad Kiwi accents with plenty of contemporary slang (‘I let out one yell tuh wake the dead and took to muh scrapers’), and it all feels like the trappings of a comic tale of carefree youth. And indeed, a lot of it is joyously funny. But there’s a dark undertone to the antics. Neddy finds himself, in an unguarded moment, fantasising even about his older sister Prudence; it’s innocent enough, but it’s a reminder of things that aren’t so innocent. The bullies who harass him have designated one boy as a kind of catamite, to play with until they get girlfriends of their own, and we glimpse some of these adolescent rituals with troubled feelings. The comedy drunks in the hotel bar provide a punchline to many scenes, but their drinking is shown to be destructive and sinister.
The possible end-point of all these ‘comic’ elements is crystallised in the figure of Hubert Salter, a tall and cadaverously thin stranger who arrives in town to upset the local stasis. He is (as Prudence whispers, using that ubiquitous antipodean suffix) a ‘sex-oh’ who has raped and killed a girl, not necessarily in that order, in the next city along. Now the urge is coming over him once more.
‘The wolf bane is blooming again,’ Salter muttered. The highlight of his life over the last few days suddenly flashed back to numb his brain. Ecstasy flooded his loins and genitals. […] So easy it had been. So almost unbelievably exciting. Such mad exhilaration, such sexual power the mad, evil moment granted. So easy it must always be.
The way Morrieson mixes the two elements of his story, comedy and horror, is quite alarming – and impressive, except that it feels almost more like a matter of instinct and temperament than of art. Klynham is based on Morrieson’s native Hawera, which he never left, dying of drink at the age of fifty almost entirely unrecognised. But this is a great novel, unpicking the horror that lurks behind small-town charm, and reclaiming, almost heroically, the simple goodness of human life in the face of it.
January 14, 2026
A friend recommended this book. The first time I tried to read it, I hated it. I don't know why. It bugged me. I read a couple chapters then stopped. I tried to give it back to my friend and she said, "You hold onto it and pick it up later. I swear you'll love it." It sat on my shelf for 3 years. Then I picked it up again and LOVED it. It is a great story that kept me totally engaged. Funny how your head space at the time can change how you experience a book. I finally gave it back to my friend with a big thank you.
December 30, 2025
This is kind of tonally bizarre in a way that works. My only quibble is I’m not a huge fan of when authors impart accents or other mannerisms through writing the speech with phonetic spelling, but I guess even Tolstoy went in for this sin occasionally so I’m willing to overlook it. Though it is particularly painful to read a New Zealand accent written down when you also have one.
March 23, 2026
So brilliant. I can only assume I was never taught about this guy on account of him being such a pisshead. It’s unjust
March 27, 2019
Wonderful!! Easy 4.5*
May 23, 2015
What a grimy, unpleasant book. Excuse me while I dramatically wash my hands of it now that I'm done with it.
Okay. So. The Scarecrow isn't a bad book, but there was a lot I didn't like about it. I suppose what muddied my enjoyment of it the most was the book's skeevy preoccupation (not to mention the protagonist's preoccupation) with the sex life of the protagonist's 16 year old sister Prudence. For me, Prudence was the only character worth giving a toss about, as the rest were too one-dimensional or unlikeable. Or both! The protagonist had his moments, but the scenario closer to the beginning that almost led to a pretty much soured me on him for the rest of the book.
Reading the book was also kind of unpleasant. It felt like a fever dream at times. It's hard to describe, but a lot of the events that Ned (Neddy, Eddy, whatever) recounts just seemed to mush into each other. Maybe that was my brain trying to process the book faster so that I could be done with it.
But really, it's not without redeeming aspects. The titular scarecrow had a great aura of creepiness about him, and the Lynch gang that torments Ned and his cohorts were kinda terrifying as well. They reminded me of this gang of boys that me and a friend happened upon one weekend while walking through the local primary school. Actually, we met the "leader's" uncle first. He told my friend "*Nephew's name* would love you" in an awful, leery, knowing voice that bewildered my friend and I then and still creeps me out now. We edged away from the creepy man but further into the school we happened upon a gang of boys probably 4 or 3 years younger than us, who surrounded us and kept trying to touch my friend's arse. We were semi-amused, but weirded out enough to head home, and the boys proceeded to chase us along the street, still trying to slap my friend's arse. Now, those boys weren't on the same level as the Lynch gang, of course. They were more like a proto Lynch gang. I forget where I was going with this anecdote. I guess my point will now be that boys had a creepy sense of entitlement back then and, duh, they still do now. Even the good guys in this book have that creepy sense of entitlement to intrude upon girls. It was weird. But not surprising.
2 1/2 stars.
Okay. So. The Scarecrow isn't a bad book, but there was a lot I didn't like about it. I suppose what muddied my enjoyment of it the most was the book's skeevy preoccupation (not to mention the protagonist's preoccupation) with the sex life of the protagonist's 16 year old sister Prudence. For me, Prudence was the only character worth giving a toss about, as the rest were too one-dimensional or unlikeable. Or both! The protagonist had his moments, but the scenario closer to the beginning that almost led to a pretty much soured me on him for the rest of the book.
Reading the book was also kind of unpleasant. It felt like a fever dream at times. It's hard to describe, but a lot of the events that Ned (Neddy, Eddy, whatever) recounts just seemed to mush into each other. Maybe that was my brain trying to process the book faster so that I could be done with it.
But really, it's not without redeeming aspects. The titular scarecrow had a great aura of creepiness about him, and the Lynch gang that torments Ned and his cohorts were kinda terrifying as well. They reminded me of this gang of boys that me and a friend happened upon one weekend while walking through the local primary school. Actually, we met the "leader's" uncle first. He told my friend "*Nephew's name* would love you" in an awful, leery, knowing voice that bewildered my friend and I then and still creeps me out now. We edged away from the creepy man but further into the school we happened upon a gang of boys probably 4 or 3 years younger than us, who surrounded us and kept trying to touch my friend's arse. We were semi-amused, but weirded out enough to head home, and the boys proceeded to chase us along the street, still trying to slap my friend's arse. Now, those boys weren't on the same level as the Lynch gang, of course. They were more like a proto Lynch gang. I forget where I was going with this anecdote. I guess my point will now be that boys had a creepy sense of entitlement back then and, duh, they still do now. Even the good guys in this book have that creepy sense of entitlement to intrude upon girls. It was weird. But not surprising.
2 1/2 stars.
September 24, 2021
The lesson I learnt is that NOT to rely on the 'genres' as noted on book page... Because it sets certain expectations which I fear this book did not meet in the crime & horror side of things. The book description notes that it its "Part boys' own adventure story, part small-town comedy and part horrifying thriller,..." in which I totally agree with the first 2 but that last, I completely disagree with.
Set in a small town called Klynham in New Zealand, The Scarecrow is told from the point of view of a teenage boy, Edward [Neddy] Poindexter, as he wrote of this dark history of his town. It features a horrific murder which in turn haunted his family. The main bulk of the novel, however, is truly about his life & his family which were fascinating in its own way.
I struggled get into this story mainly because I struggled with the language and also, I was a little bit weirded out with this lifestyle and perhaps, how these boys think and talk. But I got used to the language and I really had to acknowledge my own very sheltered and citified life so who am I to say that this wasn't the way it was in a small town in New Zealand or somewhere just as remote?
While the characters were rather dynamic, I guess I was just disappointed that the crime/horror (which were my main interest point) were not prominent enough. The rating in this case in merely a my disappointment over unmet expectations. There were funny bits though which got me laughing out loud so I really had to give it some good points!
Set in a small town called Klynham in New Zealand, The Scarecrow is told from the point of view of a teenage boy, Edward [Neddy] Poindexter, as he wrote of this dark history of his town. It features a horrific murder which in turn haunted his family. The main bulk of the novel, however, is truly about his life & his family which were fascinating in its own way.
I struggled get into this story mainly because I struggled with the language and also, I was a little bit weirded out with this lifestyle and perhaps, how these boys think and talk. But I got used to the language and I really had to acknowledge my own very sheltered and citified life so who am I to say that this wasn't the way it was in a small town in New Zealand or somewhere just as remote?
While the characters were rather dynamic, I guess I was just disappointed that the crime/horror (which were my main interest point) were not prominent enough. The rating in this case in merely a my disappointment over unmet expectations. There were funny bits though which got me laughing out loud so I really had to give it some good points!
November 30, 2019
Why is laughing-out-loud at the written word so rare that it feels like an unexpected gift when it happens? Well, whatever the reason, this seriously funny coming-of-age story had me LOL-ing so often (there are witnesses) that I feel an obligation to share. Much of the humor comes from its dialogue: 1950’s slang and New Zealand idiom, malapropisms and idiosyncratic accents. And Morrieson - through his 14-year-old narrator, Ned - describes physical humor in a way that achieves slapstick genius. Ned’s voice hilariously renders a bookish, small-town boy’s experience, but it’s his older sister, Prudence Poindexter, who steals the show as an ingenue for the ages. And let’s not forget the titular serial killer. While cartoonish in his creepiness, the terror and devastation he causes is real. And Morrieson has the writerly skill and moral decorum so that you never laugh when you shouldn’t. (He even brought an actual tear to my eye.) His finesse makes this odd hybrid a Kiwi classic and one of the best novels I’ve read all year.
October 31, 2012
A sensational book, full of crackling live wire writing, adventurous inventive vocabulary and a story stuffed full of vivid and wild characters. It's classic noir New Zealand style, and as fantastic and great as any pulp fiction I've ever come across.
Eddy is a small-town youth, son of a useless drunken junk dealer and nephew to an even more worthless scoundrel, Uncle Athol. Buoyed by his best friend Les and sister Prudence, Eddy manages to scrape by in the dusty burg of Klynham. When a scary necrophiliac bow-tie wearing magician worms his way into town, he's just another stranger in this strange little world. It's every man for himself, and every man for the luscious young Prudence, who can't help but attract all their attention like a walking magnetic teenage whirlpool. It's just funny enough, and just scary enough, and just outrageous enough, to grab your attention and hold it closer and closer to the final flame.
Eddy is a small-town youth, son of a useless drunken junk dealer and nephew to an even more worthless scoundrel, Uncle Athol. Buoyed by his best friend Les and sister Prudence, Eddy manages to scrape by in the dusty burg of Klynham. When a scary necrophiliac bow-tie wearing magician worms his way into town, he's just another stranger in this strange little world. It's every man for himself, and every man for the luscious young Prudence, who can't help but attract all their attention like a walking magnetic teenage whirlpool. It's just funny enough, and just scary enough, and just outrageous enough, to grab your attention and hold it closer and closer to the final flame.
September 8, 2023
morrieson can coin a pretty good phrase but a lot of this didn't really work for me, i think because while he uses a lot of nz english vernacular he also writes the characters accents in ways that i cannot hear a nz accent of any type sounding like, so the effect is more like malicious cartoon characters than anything else. i'm also discovering that i have less tolerance for teenage narrators than i used to. props for thoroughly hating rural new zealand, the only place he ever lived, though!
June 23, 2022
2.5 stars
Not bothered to write a review right now I'll just copy my exam into it when I write it
Also it was probably really clever hut it was about such awful topics that I just.... Vomit.
Not bothered to write a review right now I'll just copy my exam into it when I write it
Also it was probably really clever hut it was about such awful topics that I just.... Vomit.
August 15, 2018
it's meant to be a sort of crime thriller except it basically forgets about that for most of the time to focus on a pair of disgustingly stupid and hornt 14-year-olds and the absurd and grotesque characters in the town. which is probably good because the book has enough distasteful moments as it is, and it helps lift it above just another terrifying-stranger-comes-to-town story.
while a lot of it is clearly meant to be funny, the humour hasn't aged terribly well (or at least hasn't travelled terribly well -- either way i'm not au fait enough on life in 1940s(?) small-town New Zealand to pick up on any particularly sophisticated social satire). but the narration has an appealingly dry style to it, the dialogue is sharp, and on the whole the book is a really effective piece of modern gothic that's vaguely reminiscent of Bradbury's "Something Wicked".
while a lot of it is clearly meant to be funny, the humour hasn't aged terribly well (or at least hasn't travelled terribly well -- either way i'm not au fait enough on life in 1940s(?) small-town New Zealand to pick up on any particularly sophisticated social satire). but the narration has an appealingly dry style to it, the dialogue is sharp, and on the whole the book is a really effective piece of modern gothic that's vaguely reminiscent of Bradbury's "Something Wicked".
September 10, 2015
I've just finished The scarecrow: A novel and I'm not sure that I'd recommend it. (Still considering whether to give it 3 stars and be generous, or stick with just 2.)
Although funny in places, more often than not, the humour didn't work for me. It felt too laboured, self-conscious, and at times, very uncomfortable (rape & necrophilia have never been particularly chuckle-some in my book....) It was written in the sixties, so the sexism is to be expected, but I did get sick of it. (Having read back over what I've just written, it's lucky to get 2 stars!!!!!)
Edit: Just about to administer my measly 2 stars and took a look at the glowing reviews on Goodreads - were we reading the same book?
Although funny in places, more often than not, the humour didn't work for me. It felt too laboured, self-conscious, and at times, very uncomfortable (rape & necrophilia have never been particularly chuckle-some in my book....) It was written in the sixties, so the sexism is to be expected, but I did get sick of it. (Having read back over what I've just written, it's lucky to get 2 stars!!!!!)
Edit: Just about to administer my measly 2 stars and took a look at the glowing reviews on Goodreads - were we reading the same book?
February 8, 2017
‘Had Dickens begun his career in the twentieth century and with a novel whose major theme was sex he might very well have produced a book like The Scarecrow.’
Meanjin
‘Infectious warmth and gusto…one of the most unusual and original novels published in this country for many a long day.’
Sydney Morning Herald
Meanjin
‘Infectious warmth and gusto…one of the most unusual and original novels published in this country for many a long day.’
Sydney Morning Herald
April 12, 2025
It’s a difficult book to like, and quite frankly I will need to read it again now I know Morrieson was an alcoholic because it feels now like a howl of pain I completely misunderstood. But what a strange thing it is, a fever dream of alcoholism (so many of them, all horrible and grotesque and completely distressing), nostalgia (but a sort of nightmarish nostalgia, with the dialogue with its absurd dialect phonetics feeling like almost nightmarish) and outright horror. It feels horribly tangled up a lot of the time, but clearly this is partly deliberate so Morrieson can go from black comedy to genuinely shocking horror and back again to add to the feeling of waking nightmare. And the titular villain - and there’s no spoiler here, it’s clear that he’s a monster as soon as he turns up - is one of the single most sinister and deeply awful figures in all literature. He stalks the book like some kind of monster from the id
It’s a complex and messy book but it also has an urgency that drives it forward that’s quite unlike anything else I’ve read in a long time. It will need a reread at some point to fully appreciate what Morrieson achieves here but it’s plainly some sort of monstrous masterpiece, albeit a tough old read
It’s a complex and messy book but it also has an urgency that drives it forward that’s quite unlike anything else I’ve read in a long time. It will need a reread at some point to fully appreciate what Morrieson achieves here but it’s plainly some sort of monstrous masterpiece, albeit a tough old read
January 20, 2023
Apparently this is "great New Zealand literature". I didn't like it. This starts out as a teenage comedy about 1950's small-town NZ, but turns dark pretty quick, when the protagonist almost sets up his sister to be gang-raped. And that kindof sets the tone: its really all a bit yick. And that's before the necrophiliac serial killer gets into the act. The whole thing is written in 1950's kiwi slang, with the pronunciation spelled out, presumably to contrast with the BBC accent official NZ sounded like back then, but now its just annoying.
FWIW this book is now in the public domain in NZ. I doubt it'll find a renewed audience.
FWIW this book is now in the public domain in NZ. I doubt it'll find a renewed audience.
January 28, 2022
Another obscure Kiwi classic that captures the very breath of a bye gone era. Narrated by an adolescent boy who lives in a small rural town in the North Island. A alternating adult/child view of the world of the around him.
Growing up in a bottom of the food chain type family where lack of money dominates and the desires and aspirations of all are subjugated by their lack of money and lack of social status.
Murder happens and that is the stage where this tableau takes place. Very readable and enjoyable.
Growing up in a bottom of the food chain type family where lack of money dominates and the desires and aspirations of all are subjugated by their lack of money and lack of social status.
Murder happens and that is the stage where this tableau takes place. Very readable and enjoyable.
July 10, 2023
Ļoti priecājos, ka šī grāmata nonāca manā grāmatu plauktā. Stāsts reizē tik raupjš un pievilcīgs kā tā grāmatas vāks.
"Esmu pārliecināts, ka mīlestība pret kādu vietu, kuru cilvēks nevar pazaudēt, ieplūst cilvēkā cauri viņa kailo kāju pēdām. Neatkarīgi no tā, cik nelaimīgs ir cilvēks, mīlestība uz pašu zemi iesūcas viņa kailo kāju pēdās un sasniedz sirdi."
(123.lpp)
"Mamma uzrunāja klātesošos: – Ielejiet sev paši. Parasti es nosodu cilvēkus, kuri šajā rīta stundā piedalās velnišķīgā ruma dzeršanā, taču, Dieva vārdā, šis nu reiz ir ārkārtas stāvoklis, atvainojiet, jūsu svētība."
(163.lpp)
"Esmu pārliecināts, ka mīlestība pret kādu vietu, kuru cilvēks nevar pazaudēt, ieplūst cilvēkā cauri viņa kailo kāju pēdām. Neatkarīgi no tā, cik nelaimīgs ir cilvēks, mīlestība uz pašu zemi iesūcas viņa kailo kāju pēdās un sasniedz sirdi."
(123.lpp)
"Mamma uzrunāja klātesošos: – Ielejiet sev paši. Parasti es nosodu cilvēkus, kuri šajā rīta stundā piedalās velnišķīgā ruma dzeršanā, taču, Dieva vārdā, šis nu reiz ir ārkārtas stāvoklis, atvainojiet, jūsu svētība."
(163.lpp)
March 24, 2026
Much preferred this to 'Came a hot Friday'. The plot is secondary to Morrieson's delicious, ridiculous metaphors and similes. Through the eyes of a young boy in a superbly described, dysfunctional but loving poor family, the events, both large and small, funny and terrifying, are catalogued with the engaging bluntness and resilience of youth. Hawera will never look the same...
March 16, 2019
This was a delight to read, - the writing style and the way it took me back to growing up in small town NZ in the 1950’s, with the community of siblings, friends’ siblings etc. The murders not so much...
December 23, 2024
When Angela vanished I was nearly in tears, then it almost happened to Pru too and I was ready to bawl my damn eyes out, as she’s a character I could see my teenaged self in while reading the book, and by god I would also be skinning him alive if I could!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 19, 2018
Interesting enough but I mainly read it because I was stuck on a plane with not much else.
August 5, 2019
Not quite what I was expecting but enjoyed it never the less. I’ve always loved reading about New Zealand and this book have me a glimpse into life in 1950’s rural Kiwi life.
February 16, 2021
A thorough Kiwi classic. Clever and funny almost in a Fred Dagg way.
April 11, 2023
Viegli lasāms, bet, manuprāt, bez pievienotās vērtības un ar ļoti haotisku saturu.
May 15, 2023
Rereading at the moment. Extremely enjoyable. Would think great for young adults getting into reading. Very funny reflection of mid 20 century New Zealand
February 7, 2024
A rare combination of bleak with hopeful, scattered with funny and bittersweet accents. Very enjoyable, beyond the disturbing bits that are rightfully so.
June 23, 2025
I quite enjoyed this book, and can certainly see why it was so polarising when it first came out!
Some very interesting characters, though most weren’t delved into very deeply.
Some very interesting characters, though most weren’t delved into very deeply.
April 13, 2024
Predating Stephen King's IT by years, this tells a similar narrative in a much better way.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 59 reviews