Big Little Lies

Someone dies at a school trivia night. That's all Liane Moriarty tells you at the start of Big Little Lies, and then she rewinds to the first day of kindergarten to show you how a community of parents — specifically three women whose lives intersect at the school gates — spiraled toward that fatal evening.

Madeline is fierce, funny, and furious at her ex-husband's new wife. Celeste is the stunning, wealthy mother whose seemingly perfect marriage hides something terrible. Jane is the young single mother carrying a secret about her son's conception that she's never told anyone. Moriarty braids their stories together with the precision of a thriller writer and the emotional intelligence of literary fiction, and the result is a novel that manages to be both a genuinely funny social comedy and a devastating exploration of domestic violence, bullying, and the impossible expectations placed on mothers.

The structural device is clever: interspersed between chapters are interview snippets from parents being questioned by police after the trivia night incident, creating a Greek chorus of gossip, misdirection, and petty grievance that is both hilarious and unsettling. You keep reading to find out who died, but you stay because these women feel startlingly real.

Big Little Lies earns its place by demonstrating that stories about mothers, suburban life, and school-gate politics deserve the same respect as any "serious" literary subject. Moriarty writes about women's lives with the kind of sharp, observant intelligence that critics reserve for praising novels about men at war or men in crisis, and she does it without ever sacrificing readability for gravitas.

The novel's treatment of domestic violence is exceptional. Celeste's storyline avoids every cliche — there's no simple "why doesn't she leave" framing. Instead, Moriarty shows the psychological complexity of abuse within a marriage that is also, in many moments, genuinely loving, and that honesty is rarer and more valuable than another heavy-handed PSA.

More broadly, the book proved that "women's fiction" — a genre label that has always functioned as a dismissal — could be commercially massive, critically respected, and socially important simultaneously. The HBO adaptation amplified that proof, but the novel got there first, selling millions of copies by trusting that stories about women's interior lives are as gripping as any crime narrative.

Published in 2014, Big Little Lies became a bestseller in over 30 countries and has sold millions of copies worldwide. The HBO limited series adaptation in 2017, starring Nicole Kidman, Reese Witherspoon, and Shailene Woodley, won eight Primetime Emmy Awards including Outstanding Limited Series and earned Kidman an Emmy for her portrayal of Celeste. A second season followed in 2019 adding Meryl Streep to the cast. The success of the adaptation helped launch a wave of female-driven prestige television adapted from "domestic fiction" and elevated the genre's literary standing. Moriarty became one of the bestselling authors in the world, and the novel is credited with helping destigmatize conversations about domestic violence.