Rowbotham's account of her Sixties journey from the moral certainties of a Methodist boarding school via Oxford, hippiedom and the Black Dwarf to women's lib is lifted by her photographic memory and sharp humour. At a London party, she hears from Tynan how "Princess Margaret expected you to call her ma'am when she smoked dope". Like a time machine, this honest and sympathetic book whizzes you back to the excitement of the Sixties and the insufferable superiority of middle-class male radicals.
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