IF you're anything unlike me, you will know "the OC" - Orange County, California - from the teen soap aired on Channel 4. I've never seen the dratted thing, so all I have is the vague impression of wealthy Yanks with great teeth and computer-generated hair arsing about in Mercedes Benzes having affairs and voting Republican.
Vaguely Gonzo-style journalist "Commie Girl" - aka Rebecca Schoenkopf - admits from the off that there is a lot of truth to this stereotype of a land populated by smug, "Versace-decked, Chardonnay-swilling, Humvee-crashing" bourgeois, but wishes to plead the case for an alternative OC, where "liberal" sensibilities still survive and real humans live vibrant lives.
Commie Girl lives in Orange County and writes for one of its few leftish newspapers. From this base, she ventures out to bring you slices of Americana, descriptions of nights spent with second division lounge singers and punk club owners. She also gatecrashes local meetings of the conservative right and government seminars on "the evil of drugs."
She is a wry and snaky hack, with a nice line in sarcasm, wit and self-deprecation.
She also has the US right's number down to a tee, frequently pointing out the absurdity of a "pro-life" position which virulently opposes welfare for children and mothers and campaigns against cervical cancer vaccines on the grounds that this may "encourage promiscuity."
This book has several weaknesses from our point of view, however. First, Commie Girl - despite the tuition of her admirably militant-sounding "Commie Mom" and her courageous self-identification - is not really a communist as we know it or even as Europe knows it.
I'd have said that "Left Liberal Girl" would be more accurate, if less snappy and provocative. Nevertheless, you takes what you can in Bush's US, so this is a small, culturally biased gripe.
More problematically, the book reads like a series of entries from Schoenkopf's blog and newspaper articles, which is unsurprising, because it is.
No bad thing in itself, it still gives the book the feel of a hasty collection, especially as a few chapters are noticeably "filler" compared to the other grand set-pieces.
Third, many of the references are a tad arcane for a poor, unworldly Limey such as myself, still struggling with such US innovations as the jukebox, jive music and extraordinary rendition.
You can't help but feel that much of the subject matter will sail over the heads of anyone unfamiliar with the minutiae of US politics and popular culture.
However, there is still much enjoyment to be had reading Commie Girl skewer right-wing certainties.
I wish her the best of luck and refer any reader to her website at www.commiegirlcollective.com, if you wish to find out more.
DANIEL COYSH