Full disclosure, as Simon Bridges’ preeminent impersonator, I loved every bit of National Identity, Confessions of an Outsider whether it was good or not. And the more inane the details, the more I relished it. His feelings towards the ticket prices of a Wiggles concert, his lifelong weakness when it comes to cheese and cold meats, and his belief that the beauty of a kingfisher is proof of the existence of God have all allowed me to create a much fuller character next time I play him. It also gave me some great fodder for some great gags but onto the book.

National Identity is Simon Bridges in book form - and that is meant as a compliment. It feels authentically, honestly, sometimes vulnerably, Simon Bridges. I feel no one else is responsible for the words on the page nor has he tried to put on airs and graces and write the way he thinks he should write. It feels like you’re sitting down for an unfiltered chat with the man. Or maybe more like you’re sitting down to be lectured at by him. But there is a truthful charm throughout.

So, it’s hard to condemn someone who so sincerely exposes themselves, even if you don’t agree with them politically. The book is basically Bridges saying, “This is who I am, this is what I believe, do with that what you will and I’m not going to be too fussed if you disagree with me. Just don’t mock my accent because I’m sensitive about it.”

Do I feel guilty about satirising him when he’s a living, breathing, feeling human? A little, but when he discusses the dirty politics he got involved in, including several sponsored social media posts, I felt it was all fair in love and war.

The book is branded as a “Not a Political Memoir” but reads as both an insight into his life and also as a manifesto of his political beliefs. So I’d argue it is a Political Memoir. Not surprisingly, Bridges has some strong opinions but they are eloquently made and well thought out on topics from education and crime to class and race. He makes some strong arguments about where New Zealand is going wrong - the education system, the ideals of kiwi masculinity and the class divide are bad - but he’s cleverly gone through and made sure none of his opinions can be taken out of context and used against him.

Bridges is quick to point out there are still great teachers out there; Kiwi blokes like Richie McCaw are still great and, if you’ve got the money, send your kids to great private schools by all means – while his descriptions of Grey Lynn-living, cardigan-wearing lefties can only be read as a gentle dig. He also expresses some of his opinions on other politicians, which is always a juicy bit of fun. Strangely, the one he seems to liken himself to the most is Labour stalwart Helen Clark. They’re both introverted book lovers, apparently.

Did I find myself agreeing with Bridges and his political views? Not so much. But I definitely learnt to understand why his views are what they are. In terms of his opinions of where New Zealand is going wrong, well, it’s certainly given me food for thought. Having nothing to do with the education system, I guess my alarm bells could now be ringing. These huge classrooms do seem preposterous. And students get to decide what they’re going to learn? That seems odd. And his concerns about gangs and their growing threat, I guess I could be fear-mongered about that as well. But, instead, I finished the book and cosied up in my Grey Lynn liberal bubble.

I did admire his discussion of masculinity and him owning that he doesn’t fit into the mould. While I also admire the Richie McCaws of the world (and wish I had half their discipline and focus) it was great to be reminded that McCaw’s way isn’t the be all and end all. One may say that we’ve moved on a lot since the days of idealising the stoic, laconic Kiwi bloke but I really don’t think we have. Who are the kings of high school? Still the Rugby First Fifteen. Let’s tear down ideals of masculinity (or femininity) people!

The emphasis on Bridges’ beliefs are all well and good but it is the man behind them where the interest lies. And he is an intriguing character study. With absolute frankness, he describes his parents and his relationship with them, warts and all, but compassionately explains the reasons why they are the way they are. He then goes on to explain how these elements have influenced who he is. This culminates in a gift, in a way, allowing the reader to be introspective about their own situation with their own parents. It’s also a reminder that people, politicians especially, are not simply political ideas. They are living, breathing, psychologically complex people - who just happen to be asserting their beliefs onto everyone else.

Bridges goes on to discuss his own shortcomings as a parent (the clock watching during his children’s birthdays because he has something political to get to) but also the lessons he learnt of how not to behave from his father. He is quick and unashamed to show his sons physical affection, as one example. He uses this same formula to describe his uncertainty around his bi-racial identity, being a Westie in the somewhat pompous world of law, and some of the issues his accent has caused during the years. This last point culminated in him shedding tears over some particularly cutting commentary. As he claims, Bridges is no laconic, emotionless ideal of Kiwi manhood.

Whether you’re a fan of his or not, you’ll come away from reading National Identity with an insight into an interesting character. And he’s been very honest, vulnerable, candid and, thankfully, self-aware in his writing. And he’s authentic so you can’t knock that. You’ll come away thinking over your own political beliefs and you’ll ponder the contemporary issues facing New Zealand and New Zealanders. It’s also a slim book, 280 pages, of easy to read writing so you’ll get through it in a weekend, which is always a bonus.

Finally, and potentially most importantly, his pose on the cover has captivated me for hours. What’s happening there? He’s resting his chin on his fist? But not resting his elbow on anything? And what’s the other arm doing? It’s a great pose and I look forward to everyone’s opinion on it.

Reviewed by Tom Sainsbury