

There is no special protection when you cross the invisible line from your ordinary life to the parallel world where tragedies happen. When tragedy strikes, Moriarty’s brilliant prose sums up the thoughts, feelings and emotions surrounding the event in a way that feels both genuine and relatable via the inner ramblings of one of her characters, Clementine - “This is what it feels like. Like all good writers, Moriarty allows the reader access to all these versions of her characters, whilst at the same time observing what makes them tick, including guilt, loneliness, PTSD, and difficult childhoods. Moriarty uses wit, which is devilishly acerbic at times, and close, almost psychoanalytical observation to show us the three faces of her characters, namely, the face the world sees, the second face, reserved for close friends and family, and the third face – usually the truest reflection of an individual but also the face no one else sees, except, of course, the person themselves. Marriage, childhood, parenthood, and friendships are some of the themes explored, and although each character comes with their own set of middle-class, suburban baggage, they are all authentic, well-rounded, and sympathetically drawn individuals. Written in close third person, the characters are likeable and annoying in equal measure, like real people.

The plot and chapters are character driven with each chapter either flitting back to the day in question, or forwards to the days and weeks that follow it. Set in Sydney, Australia, and centring on a group of friends at a barbecue, it quickly becomes apparent something troubling has taken place, something, which has deeply affected everyone, and keeps you guessing to the end, adding to the suspense and pace. Easy to read with well-written dialogue and deliciously flawed characters, it hooked me from the start. I’m pleased to say I wasn’t disappointed.

I thoroughly enjoyed Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty, and the TV adaption was pretty good too, so I was really looking forward to reading Truly Madly Guilty.
