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320 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 9, 2018
“You never really know what happens in someone else’s marriage.”
We were polite women living in a civilized society where people rarely did more than whisper about one another’s marriages. We tried reasoning with her and spent hours worrying about her, but ultimately we did nothing, watching from a distance like moviegoers at a disaster film, tense and expectant, waiting for the awful yet inevitable conclusion.I recently watched the first episode of Big Little Lies, so it was impossible not to make comparisons within the first few chapters: women whose children attend the same school become close, they frequently meet at a local coffee shop, and their wealthy, beautiful friend is possibly being abused. That's where the similarities end for me! The chapters alternate between four women with very different lives:
So much in life hinges on chance—this date or that time, the myriad small, statistical variations which social scientists like to measure. . . . It’s only when I look back that I see this moment as the beginning, how everything started, though of course I didn’t understand the significance then. . . . This is the way of fate—all of these pieces that must slot into place, one leading to the other, a progression toward a conclusion that seems inevitable only after the fact.
Once when I was talking about the past with my brother, he said that being a police officer had taught him that the line that separates the civil from the uncivil is very fine, and that anyone is capable of anything given the right set of circumstances. I hadn’t believed him. There was a huge difference between the monsters and us, I’d argued. It wasn’t a fine line at all, but a gulf separating the law-abiding from the lawless. I hadn’t understood that dozens of smaller choices lead to those big moral decisions, as if each step were a point along an invisible map leading to what only feels upon arrival like a surprise destination.
There are no monsters, just deeply flawed people, all of us given that power to choose, some of us making choices so damaging that they ruin the lives of those they claim to love. I believed once in those clear lines, the good and the evil, the perpetrator and the victim, and now I see that all of us end up playing both roles at some point in our lives. We hurt those that we love, we make choices that we can’t undo, we throw ourselves headlong into battles in the name of rescuing people who never asked to be saved. . . . . None of us are wholly innocent. We are all the damned and we are all the saved.