Wendy Wilkins was a member of Victoria Police for five years in the early 90s. She provides a series of vignettes about her experiences.
This reads more like the stories you might tell in a bar, rather than a book. This "book" has no structure. She never mentions why she joined, or why she left. The stories are unrelated, and there is no insight, no inner monologue, no searching for meaning or motivation. Which is,in fact, exactly like the Victoria Police members I know.
A lot of the stories told here are reflective of the Victorian Equal Opportunity and Human Rights Commission Independent Report Into Sexual Harassment (2015). Wendy Wilkins may not be aware of the amount of work that is going on to change the culture. This book is reflection of a particular time in the organisation. She talks repeatedly about car "accidents". There are no car accidents, particularity when the story is about someone who gets behind the wheel drunk and kills someone. That's a fatality, or a collision. While mentioning that the treatment of "aborigines" is unacceptable, she interchangeably uses the terms "aboriginal" and "aborigine". In fact, she is low key racist throughout, constantly identifying "crooks" primarily by their race.
She often seems to be trying for salacious, when honest and reflective would be more interesting.
All that said, I quite enjoyed it. It's set in the suburb I live in, in an organisation I am deeply familiar with. I think it would have been more interesting if Wendy had chosen to write a proper memoir, fully exploring her experiences, rather than this series of snippets of examined events.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher BooksGoSocial for the ARC, in exchange for the honest review.
A lot of the stories told here are reflective of the Victorian Equal Opportunity and Human Rights Commission Independent Report Into Sexual Harassment (2015). Wendy Wilkins may not be aware of the amount of work that is going on to change the culture. This book is reflection of a particular time in the organisation. She talks repeatedly about car "accidents". There are no car accidents, particularity when the story is about someone who gets behind the wheel drunk and kills someone. That's a fatality, or a collision. While mentioning that the treatment of "aborigines" is unacceptable, she interchangeably uses the terms "aboriginal" and "aborigine". In fact, she is low key racist throughout, constantly identifying "crooks" primarily by their race.
She often seems to be trying for salacious, when honest and reflective would be more interesting.
All that said, I quite enjoyed it. It's set in the suburb I live in, in an organisation I am deeply familiar with. I think it would have been more interesting if Wendy had chosen to write a proper memoir, fully exploring her experiences, rather than this series of snippets of examined events.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher BooksGoSocial for the ARC, in exchange for the honest review.
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