448 pages
Liane Moriarty is fast becoming a favourite author of mine. Her work is easy to read, but that's not to say it's not intelligent or thought provoking. Her excellent portrayal of inner monologue is better than any I've read before. Or maybe her characters just think like I do. Either way, I can identify with each of her characters in what they say and think.
I have heard several people describe this book as her best yet, but I didn't find it as compelling as What Alice Forgot, or as funny as Little Lies. The story follows a woman who discovers a letter addressed to herself in her husband's hand, to be opened in the event of his death. The question is, will she open it and thus open a whole can of worms? Or stick with the status quo and nagging doubts about what it might contain?
It's an interesting conundrum, and reminds me of stories of 'deathbed confessions' where the confessor then survives. I'm guessing this is what Moriarty had in mind when she wrote it, and it's certainly an interesting theme. The secret of the title is not the only secret buzzing around in this book, and the affect of keeping these secrets on the characters is really well illustrated. Underlying all of Moriarty's books is the examination of modern relationships close and distant. In this book themes of family, guilt, and forgiveness are covered, as well as the damage assumptions can cause in relationships.
As for the secret? Well, you'll have to read it to find out.
No comments:
Post a Comment