Peter Drew's memoir Poster Boy is a fascinating journey of discovery through Australia

To find the truth of contemporary Australian identity, and to shed light on the political debates of today; to explain the 'spiritual poverty' of modern Australia, the rage of young men, and the self-certainty which unites them in nihilism.

To realise manhood and the role of family, and to explain the scope of political art to depict, create, and distract from the truth.

"At face value my posters appear to offer simple solutions to large and complex problems. There's something seductive about those broad strokes.

"[But] ultimately, political art like mine is lacking in self-reflection. Hopefully I can make up for that here," says the artist himself.

Author Peter Drew recounts his travels as a street artist in Australia. The story follows Drew's three major iconic projects: "Real Australians Say Welcome", "Aussie", and "Real Australians Seek Welcome".

These projects take him from confrontations on the streets of major Australian cities to revelations in rural "Hearts of Daftness".

They lead him through praise, recognition and unending political righteousness as well as through controversy and conflict.

Through it all, he weaves the thread of his personal story; the story of his family, the story of finding manhood, and the story of finding the purpose of his art.

Yet Poster Boy does not succeed in its quest to discover simple, one-note answers. In truth, Drew did not seem to believe that it would.

Poster Boy is not a treatise with aspirations of omniscience, but the tale of an artist in Australia. In place of simple truths, Drew discovers only devious complexity.

The adventure of this self-confessed reductionist and provocateur brings him face to face with the rich and irreducible complexity of Australia.

Drew's response to this, and how these experiences change his sense of himself and his mission come to form his narrative of 'spiritual poverty' and manhood.

The complex realities Drew encounters come to us in the form of striking images. The book is replete with fantastic scenes which defy political ideology and undermine narratives which attempt to reduce Australia's identity.

In Ipswich, Australia's 'Heart of Daftness', Drew looks to visit Pauline Hanson's old fish and chip shop, only "to discover a short Vietnamese lady behind the counter. ... Mrs Huynh and her husband had arrived in Australia twenty-two years ago, seeking asylum."

In search of rural racism, Drew visits Toowoomba, only "to discover a town in the middle of its own street art festival."

Drew says: "[It] threatened to shatter my fantasy of Toowoomba as a bigoted, rural backwater. But I wasn't fooled. I was determined to find the real Toowoomba. ... Instead I met Mohit, who had just arrived from India. Zoey the publican proudly explained that Toowoomba is Queensland's second biggest centre for resettlement of asylum seekers. I smiled through my disappointment."

Faced with this complexity, Drew reflects on his own place in the web of Australian identity.

He considers the role and purpose of his political art; wondering what changes he hopes to effect, how, and what effect a necessary loss of nuance does to a bona fide attempt at political commentary, artistic or otherwise.

"My posters are based on disregarding people's property rights, but now I own property. ... Australia was built on stolen land, but now I own a piece of that land."

Still the images of this book remain irrepressibly Australian.

From Darwin, "probably Australia's most ethnically diverse city, but [where] everyone looks the same in their daggy clothes" to his own back-yard, where "the land was filled with buried rubbish" forms a metaphor for plumbing the depths of Australian history, Drew's journey draws some strange nostalgia for the identity of this country which persists without definition.

Through it all flows Drew's casual, irreverent voice which is itself unshakably Australian.

Funny, insightful, approachable, and full of striking images which amaze in their microcosmic, understated accuracy, this memoir is a joy to read and Drew is a pleasure to come to know.

Though a book about politics, Poster Boy is not a political book. While the personal politics of Drew shine through, he does not set out to endorse or argue, or even really to explain his views.

In the simple inflammatory statements of his art, Drew seeks to provoke questions, not answer them.

The same is true of his book.

On his adventures across Australia, Drew discovered his meaning as he spread it.

In trying to depict political truth, Drew finds that rich wealth of complexity that defies reduction and comprises Australia.

And in this sense, Drew's adventure is a fantastic success.