Liane Moriarty is a genius in my eyes. She bottles the fears and dreams we all have into the most intriguing characters that seem to be a reflection of every woman I know. I read The Last Anniversary a few years ago now and loved it along side The Husband’s secret, What Alice Forgot and Big Little Lies of course amongst many others. I love the familiar surroundings, the parts the Australian landscape plays in her stories, the leafy north shore in What Alice Forgot, the northern beaches in Big Little Lies and of course Scribbly Gum island in The Last Anniversary inspired by Danger Island on the Hawkesbury river, north of Sydney.
All mean something special to this Sydney born-and-bred reader of the same vintage as Liane herself. But I wonder if we share the same experience of Danger Island. I was only 15 when I went there for the first time. I had all the hopes and dreams of a fun, exciting and successful life in front of me. My short stay on this island seemed to only confirm all this with certainty when a very tall and confident 17 year old boy, likely illegal by today’s laws, made a play for me. Passionate kisses and promises ensued, and the start of my first big love began at this strange little place with one corner store and an irregular ferry or tinny to the mainland.
Watching The Last Anniversary come to life today in a new series on Binge / Foxtel brought my own teenage dreams back to me as I watched the characters faces, their own unrealised hopes, and shocking losses etched around their tired eyes. The two sisters at the centre of the story, Connie and Rose, are beautifully captured by Angela Punch McGregor and Miranda Richardson. And Sophie, who’s “not as I planned it” life is intercepted by her one-time connection with the elder sister, is both empathetically real and pitiful all at once with Teresa Palmer’s skilful characterisation.
The first episode can’t go by without mention of the intrigue and emotion created by Claude Scott-Mitchell’s imaginings of Grace, Connie’s grand-daughter. My own bewilderment at child-birth and loss sprang into my eyes as I watched these women struggle with three different dimensions of being or not being a mother. I didn’t even know why I was crying as nothing bad was happening but such is the power Moriarty in creating characters that represent all of us so accurately, and all the stages of our lives all at once in one beautifully told story.
I don’t want to give away the mystery or even ruin episode one for you, I just want to celebrate that another beautiful production of a Liane Moriarty novel is with us to enjoy. I only met her once and shared with her that I’d wished I’d written more, and she signed my book “tell your story, Liane”. Thank you for writing Liane, and for continuing to inspire me to do the same.
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