Liane Moriarty's sequel to her runaway success Big Little Lies, titled Big Little Truths, is too long and offers too little reward, according to a new review. At more than 400 pages, the follow-up fails to deliver the high drama of its predecessor, despite introducing menopause, vaping teens and a stalker.
A long-awaited return
Big Little Lies debuted at No 1 on the New York Times bestseller list and was adapted into a television miniseries starring Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman and Zoë Kravitz. Moriarty opens the sequel with a note to readers explaining how the new novel responds to its TV adaptation by making Laura Dern's Renata and Meryl Streep's Mary-Louise more central characters, while returning to the original setting of the fictional Pirriwee Peninsula along Sydney's northern beaches.
The story begins in Australia, with a magpie swooping at a cyclist against a backdrop of native wattle and jacarandas. Twelve years have passed since the 2014 publication of Big Little Lies, and the kindergarteners from the original are now teenagers, with their mothers in the midst of menopause. The idyllic setting is shattered when a severed human finger is posted to the local high school.
Lowered stakes
In the first book, the death of a major character brought urgency, and themes of abuse and toxic masculinity provided moral underpinning. Big Little Truths, however, has lost this edge. The Pirriwee mums – Renata, Jane, Bonnie, Madeline and Celeste – are now united as close friends, carrying each other through health scares, ageing parents and alienated teenagers. The only threat to their equilibrium is the discovery that their kids are vaping, a low-level drama that doesn't rock the boat for long.
The children, who recount events to a counsellor in a polyvocal chorus, live relatively uncomplicated lives, with hints of lingering trauma but no lasting scars. The stakes have lowered, replaced by more intimate, personal dramas.
Flat melodrama
The realism of these scenes sits uncomfortably against the novel's melodrama. A mysterious stalker figure is so obviously signalled that he is not genuinely alarming, and the severed finger is relegated to the background for most of the narrative. The dramatic tension feels too distant to ignite.
While there are touching moments between the women as they rediscover themselves, these are small punctuations in a novel that shoots for high drama and falls short. The trademark reveal feels contrived, and the heavy-handed moral lesson cheapens the subtler moments.
Despite some fun in the first half and the return of familiar faces, Big Little Truths is too long and offers too little reward. The novel is out now via Pan Macmillan in Australia, Penguin Random House in the UK, and Crown in the US.
