[[jessrudd]]Media commentators like to complain Australian politics has descended into farce; overrun, they argue, by passionless politicians more committed to upholding opinion polls then their own convictions. Likewise, the chick-lit genre is knocked for lacking true literary credibility: all surface, no substance, is a common refrain. Ruby Blues, on the other hand, is a fine example of how an easy and absorbing read can still engage with the big picture issues.

Given her background in law, PR and politics, it’s no surprise author Jessica Rudd decided to follow up her 2010 debut Campaign Ruby with another satirical look at the Canberra powerheads, or ‘politeratti’ as she calls them, who bluff their way through one press statement to the next.

In Ruby Blues, prime ministerial advisor Ruby Stanhope once again must juggle the demands of a full-time career with an increasingly impatient full-time boyfriend. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of Rudd’s novel is that while conforming to most of the generic traits of chick-lit, it is the relationship Ruby has with her job, and the many stresses and demands it makes of her, that is foregrounded, not the man in her life. For Ruby, ‘government is marriage, campaigning is courtship’.

That said, Ruby Blues is largely a light-hearted take on the PR machine that drives politics these days. While current issues such as same-sex partnerships and women’s role in politics are given a nod, Rudd seems more interested in fleshing out the personal aspect of Ruby’s political career. In many ways Rudd has fashioned her own brand of ‘polit-lit’ for an audience ever weary of the superficial nature of government but still hopeful that a happy ending is just around the corner.

Emily Laidlaw is a freelance reviewer.