Big Little Lies

“Pirriwee Public School / . . . where we live and learn by the sea! / Pirriwee Public is a BULLY-FREE ZONE! / We do not Bully / We do not accept being bullied. / We never keep bullying a secret. / We have the courage to speak up if we see our friends bullied. / We say NO to bullies!” 

Presumably a school rule, the second epigraph builds on the content of the first. Whereas the adults, particularly Celeste and Jane, grapple with the horrors of domestic violence, we see their children deal with an adjacent issue: bullying. The epigraph is also ironic, as bullying and keeping bullying a secret become regular occurrences for a good portion of the story. The second epigraph, like the first, queues the reader to the type of conflicts in the story. In terms of the setting, the second epigraph also informs the reader that the story will take place by the sea before the first chapter has even begun. 

“Mothers took their mothering so seriously now. Their frantic little faces. Their busy little bottoms strutting into the school in their tight gym gear. Ponytails swinging. Eyes fixed on the mobile phones held in the palms of their hands like compasses. It made Mrs. Ponder laugh. Fondly though. Her three daughters, although older, were exactly the same. And they were all so pretty.” 

The above is an early passage that helps the reader get a sense of the time and place of the novel. It reveals the specific social norms practiced by the mothers of the school. By portraying the mothers as uniform and unoriginal, Moriarty lays the groundwork for how conformity is normalized. Most of the mothers happily outfit themselves in the same clothes with the same habits. The reader might already anticipate that deviating from this norm will be problematic, as proves to be the case with Jane. 

“My husband hits me, Renata. Never on the face of course. He’s far too classy for that. Does yours hit you? And if he does, and this is the question that really interests me: Do you hit back?” 

This passage relates one of the earliest confessions (albeit interiorly) of Celeste’s physical abuse. It highlights how guarded Celeste is. She is the most reserved and secretive character in the novel, and the character in the most immediate danger. Celeste does not simply see herself as a victim, as she hits Perry back, something she sometimes uses to rationalize staying with him. Furthermore, Big Little Lies addresses the class dynamics at play in Pirriwee; Perry—the wealthiest character in the novel—doesn’t hit Celeste’s face because that’s “beneath” him.

“In addition to the murder investigation, we expect to be charging multiple parents with assault. We’re deeply disappointed and quite shocked to see a group of parents behaving this way.” 

There is a great irony that permeates Big Little Lies: the parents spend so much time hyperaware of their children’s behavior and yet they prove to be more corrupt, rude, and violent than any of the kids. For as much as the parents are concerned with creating a safe environment for their kids, they often fail to set good examples for them. The passage also builds suspense for the reader. The specific drama of trivia night is murky. The author offers enticing tidbits but not concrete details, enhancing suspense. 

“Sometimes she yelled. Sometimes she walked away. Sometimes she fought back. She punched and kicked him the way she’d once punched and kicked her older brother. For a few moments he would let her, as if it were what he wanted, as if it were what he needed, before he grabbed her wrists. She wasn’t the only one who woke up the next day with bruises. She’d seen them on Perry’s body. She was as bad as he was. As sick as he was.” 

Moriarty uses much of Celeste’s storyline to develop a nuanced portrayal of domestic violence. This intense passage gives readers specificity into the type of complicated relationship Celeste has with Perry. We see that Celeste is a person willing to fight back and that Perry, sickeningly, seems to revel in both being violent and having violence done to him. Also, Celeste considers herself to be “sick” like her husband, which serves as motivation for Celeste to go see a therapist, Susi, which progresses her storyline forward.  

“It could have been so much worse. He rarely hit her face. She’d never broken a limb or needed stitches. Her bruises could always be kept secret with a turtleneck or sleeves or long pants. He would never lay a finger on the children. The boys never saw. It could be worse. Oh, so much worse. She’d read the articles about proper domestic violence victims. That was terrible. That was real. What Perry did didn’t count. It was small stuff, which made it all the more humiliating, because it was so…tacky. So childish and trite.” 

Celeste spends a distressing amount of time rationalizing Perry’s behavior, and this passage serves as a key example. Furthermore, Celeste lies to herself; she says that the twins never see Perry’s abuse. Toward the end of the novel, before Perry and Celeste go to trivia night, we learn that the boys have seen their parents fight at least twice: “‘They have,’ cried Celeste. She’d pretended so very hard for so very long and there was nobody here except the two of them. ‘The night before the party last year, Max got out of bed, he was standing right there at the doorway—" (412). By lying to herself about what her boys see, Celeste also lies to the reader, making the truth even more impactful at the end. 

“Abigail turned from the sink and met her eyes, and for a moment it was just the two of them, like it was for all those years. Madeline and Abigail. The Mackenzie girls. When life was quiet and simple. They used to eat breakfast in bed together before school, side by side, pillows behind their backs, their books on their laps. Madeline held her gaze. Remember, Abigail? Remember us?” 

This passage gives the reader important and intimate backstory on Madeline and Abigail. Madeline’s failing relationship with Abigail is one of her biggest problems in the novel. By providing the reader with a tender moment of the past, the reader can appreciate why Madeline is upset and hurt by Abigail’s fondness for Nathan and Bonnie in the present day. In doing so, Moriarty provides the reader with backstory that also serves the plot of the novel. 

“Ex-husbands should live in different suburbs. They should send their children to different schools. There should be legislation to prevent this. You were not meant to deal with complicated feelings of betrayal and hurt and guilt at your kids’ athletic carnivals. Feelings like this should not be brought out in public.” 

This passage offers a good example of humor and emotion, a tonal mix achieved throughout much of the novel. There is an inherent absurdity to the concept of passing a law to keep ex-spouses away from each other, but beneath that, we see that Madeline is still hurting from Nathan’s betrayal all those years ago. Living in a community that promotes putting on appearances, Madeline wants to keep herself calm and collected as opposed to constantly having to be reminded of her painful past. 

“This was not a big deal, she kept telling herself. This was little stuff. There was no need for the sense of dread. This world of lunch boxes and library bags, grazed knees and grubby little faces, was in no way connected to the ugliness of that warm spring night and the bright downlight like a staring eye in the ceiling, the pressure on her throat, the whispered words worming their way into her brain. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it.” 

This quote is an introduction to Jane’s suppressed memory, which Moriarty slowly reveals throughout the rest of the story. Moriarty utilizes vivid environmental imagery here—the warm spring night and the bright downlight like a staring eye in the ceiling—to create intrigue and suspense. Despite Jane’s best efforts, she is surrounded on all sides. The drama at the school combined with her mysterious past prove to be a heavy burden for Jane. 

“‘We’re doing a petition to ban parents from sending in cupcakes for the whole class on their kids’ birthdays,’ said Andrea or Audrey. ‘There’s an obesity crisis, and every second day the children are having sugary treats.’” 

Moriarty often interjects humorous passages and details to keep the novel from getting bogged down in too much darkness and melodrama. There is an immediate comedic tone achieved in the fact that Jane is unable to remember this mother’s name, instead thinking of her as Andrea or Audrey (who also misremembers Jane’s name). We also see the willingness for some of the mothers to propose petitions. In this case, it is relatively inconsequential and comedic. Later, however, with the petition to suspend Ziggy, we see the more dramatic and harmful implications of this type of helicopter parenting. 

“Listen, you need to get your head around the demographics of this place. So first of all you’ve got your blue collars—tradies, we call them. We’ve got a lot of tradies in Pirriwee. Like my Stu. Salt of the earth. Or salt of the sea, because they all surf, of course. Most of the tradies grew up here and never left. Then you’ve got your alternative types. Your dippy hippies. And in the last ten years or so, all these wealthy execs and banker wankers have moved in and built massive McMansions up on the cliffs. But! There’s only one primary school for all our kids! So at school events you’ve got a plumber, a banker and a crystal healer standing around trying to make conversation. It’s hilarious. No wonder we had a riot.” 

This passage outlines the class dynamics in Pirriwee. We begin to see that the initially cookie-cutter aesthetic of the town is more nuanced and primed for drama. This passage also showcases the various was Moriarty utilizes the testimonials she injects throughout the chapters. The statements from minor characters serve to build suspense, insert a joke, or, in this case, give the reader useful and meaningful world building details. 

“She could feel her cheeks burn as she typed in the two shameful words. ‘Domestic.’ ‘Violence.’” 

This quote presents an integral moment for Celeste’s character development, and the beginnings of her decision to leave Perry. They've tried a marriage counselor before, which only lasted a single session. Here, Celeste understands that she needs a more specific type of help, someone to help her deal with Perry’s violent behavior. By simply typing the words into a search engine, Celeste is admitting to herself that that is the type of situation is in. She is no longer masking or rationalizing her marriage. She wants help and is now willing to start taking the steps to find aide. 

“I refuse, she said to the memory. I refuse you today, because guess what, I have other memories of sex. I have lots of memories of an ordinary boyfriend and an ordinary bed, where the sheets weren’t that crisp and there were no staring eyes in the ceiling and there wasn’t that muffled, draped silence, there was music and ordinariness and natural light and he thought I was pretty, you bastard, he thought I was pretty, and I was pretty, and how dare you, how dare you, how dare you?” 

Like the previous quote, an equally important moment for Jane; this is the beginnings of her becoming more confident and able to overcome her trauma. She addresses the details of her memory, such as the staring eyes in the ceiling, and combats them with other, more positive experiences. Importantly, Jane also recognizes her personal beauty again, implying she will have a greater sense of personal worth going forward. In her refusal to let Perry’s abuse dominate her romantic life, Jane is also readying herself to have a healthy and happy relationship with Tom at the end of the novel.  

“The family tree project was designed to give the child a sense of their personal heritage and the heritage of others, while reflecting on the people who are important in their lives now and in the past.” 

Memory and family are important topics for many of the characters in Big Little Lies. The reasons behind the family tree assignment not only serve as a point of contention for Ziggy, but for many of the characters. All of them are constantly grappling with their past and present relationships. Ziggy’s heritage, too, regularly torments Jane. She often wonders if Ziggy might've inherited his father's violence. With the family tree, we see that even a seemingly innocent assignment can address meaningful issues for multiple characters. 

“Because there was something in your children that could bring out the child in yourself. Nothing and nobody could aggravate you the way your child could aggravate you.” 

This is telling passage, especially for Madeline. She spends a lot of time fuming over Abigail, sometimes against her own better judgement. This passage shows how Abigail has a special hold over Madeline. Their arguments are more personal, their fights more painful. Furthermore, in context of the larger story, we see that the bullying at the primary school brings out childish behavior in the parents. Many of the parents act petty and immature, supposedly at the defense of their children. Madeline schedules a party at the same time as Renata. Renata starts a petition to suspend Ziggy, etc. 

“‘It’s because a woman’s entire self-worth rests on her looks,’ said Jane. ‘That’s why. It’s because we live in a beauty-obsessed society where the most important thing a woman can do is make herself attractive to men.” 

In this passage, Moriarty shows the grief Jane feels living in a patriarchal world. Jane spends much of the novel struggling with her personal appearance because of pressure from men. Ever since Perry abused her, she’s struggled with eating properly and seeing herself in a positive way. Jane finds little reprieve regarding men throughout the novel. Her positive relationship with Tom breaks away from this misogynistic trend. 

“For five years, ever since it had begun, she’d been living her life with this secret shame draped so heavily over her shoulders, and for just a moment it lifted and she remembered the person she used to be. She still had no solution, no way out, but for just this moment she was sitting opposite someone who understood.” 

An important breakthrough for Celeste upon visiting her therapist Susi. Celeste remembers how she used to be, that the marriage she’s in now wasn’t always how it was, and not always how it has to be. Like the family tree, Celeste reflects on her past and present selves and what version of herself she wants to be going forward. We also see that lies are a heavy burden for Celeste and that telling the truth to Susi gives Celeste relief, making her stronger going forward. This passage helps develop Moriarty’s message on the cleansing power of the truth. 

“It was telling Madeline about Saxon Banks. It was repeating those stupid little words he’d said. They needed to stay secret to keep their power. Now they were deflating the way a jumping castle sagged and wrinkled as the air hissed out.” 

A similar moment of healing for Jane, Moriarty once again demonstrates the importance of communicating and telling the truth. Whereas Jane normally hid and suppressed her experience with Saxon Banks, by confiding in Madeline she finds her confidence remerging. The passage also demonstrates how close Jane and Madeline have become, showcasing the intense value of friendship. Lastly, by connecting Saxon’s hurtful words to a jumping castle, Moriarty reduces their power over Jane; his harmful statements no longer stand up. 

“‘My son has never hurt anyone,’ said Jane, and all of a sudden she knew it was true. He was Ziggy Chapman. He was nothing whatsoever to do with Saxon Banks. He was nothing to do with Poppy. He wasn’t even anything to do with her. He was just Ziggy, and she didn’t know everything about Ziggy, but she knew this.” 

Throughout the novel, Jane defends Ziggy to Renata and the other hostile mothers, but still, she can’t deny her own doubts. In this passage, we see Jane’s doubts evaporate, as she defends her son to the gossiping moms with growing confidence and assuredness. This passage shows Jane’s perspective of her son is evolving. She recognizes him not as being like any of his relatives, but as his own unique person. 

“‘Will you tell him that’s not the way to treat a woman?’ she said, and it was like jumping off a cliff. Never a word. Not like that. She’d broken an unbreakable rule. Was it because he looked like Elvis Presley and none of this was real, or was it because he knew about the apartment now and everything was more real than ever before?” 

Here, the narrative tension between Perry and Celeste is reaching its breaking point. Despite their attempts to keep their marital problems a secret, there is no denying that Perry’s violence toward his wife is negatively affecting their children. Also, now that Perry knows about Celeste’s apartment, there is no way they can simply pretend that everything is okay. We also see that Celeste wants to know how Perry might stop his boys from turning out like him. Perry’s response, however, is defensive: “The boys have never—” (412), showing that Perry will settle for denial rather than solutions. 

“‘He did a terrible, terrible thing. He will never forgive himself for it,’ Said Bonnie. ‘But it might be time you thought about forgiving him, Madeline. The health benefits of forgiveness are really quite extraordinary.” 

Perspective and the importance of trying to see the world through someone else’s eyes is a tenet at the heart of the novel. Madeline is unable to forgive Nathan on her own. His presence pains her, and Abigail’s fondness for him and Bonnie only intensifies this hurt. When Bonnie speaks to Madeline, she helps Madeline see Nathan from another vantage point. He can’t forgive himself and is doing the best he can to redeem himself. If Madeline can forgive her ex-husband, not only will she be able to heal, but Nathan will also be partially healed as well. 

“‘Your children see!’ screamed Bonnie. Her face was ugly with rage. ‘We see. We fucking see!’” 

Bonnie, so calm and collected, finally snaps, surprising Madeline and the others. Bonnie’s outburst shows the dangers of lying and of keeping unhealthy secrets. When those secrets finally come to the surface, they are traumatic. Madeline also notes that Bonnie takes Perry’s abuse very personally, hinting at a previously traumatic experience. It is telling, then, that the reader later learns that Bonnie grew up in an abusive household. Bonnie’s rage is also a heightened response that echoes the second epigraph that opens the novel. Bonnie sees bullying and absolutely will not tolerate it. 

“Maybe it was actually an unspoken instant agreement between the four women on the balcony: No woman should pay for the accidental death of that particular man. Maybe it was an involuntary, atavistic response to thousands of years of violence against women. Maybe it was for every rape, every brutal backhanded slap, every other Perry that had come before this one.” 

Moriarty gives readers another great twist at an already intense moment in the climax. Perry’s death is sudden and shocking. Now, making matters even more dramatic, the women agree to lie for Bonnie. Although Bonnie eventually goes on to confess, we nonetheless see the value of their solidarity. All of women in the novel have suffered, and they recognize that their gender has suffered repeatedly throughout history. The women’s willingness to protect Bonnie shows that injustice is always worth fighting against.