this can happen to anyone (petits secrets, grands mensonges / big little lies)

J'me barre, Keny Arkana

Anna Valenn, Le Blog

‘He will hit you again,’ said Susi. That detached professionalism again. No pity. No judgment. It wasn’t aquestion. She was stating a fact to move the conversation forward. ‘Yes,’ said Celeste. ‘It will happen again. He’ll hit me. I’ll hit him.’ It will rain again. I will get sick again. I will have bad days. But can’t I enjoy the good times while they last? But then why am I here at all? ‘So what I’d like to talk about is coming up with a plan,’ said Susi. She flipped over a page on her clipboard. ‘A plan,’ said Celeste. ‘A plan,’ said Susi. ‘A plan for next time.’

Anna Valenn, Le Blog

Big Little Lies / Petits secrets, grands mensonges,  Liane Moriarty traduction Béatrice Taupeau pour les éditons Albin Michel ; en Livre de Poche   - Un parent d'élève est mort lors de la fête de l'école maternelle de Pirriwee, sur la côte huppée. Petits secrets et grands mensonge est un page-turner, bouquin qui se dévore, dont le sujet de fond est les violences faites aux femmes et leurs conséquences sur les enfants. Il donne quelques clés pour s'en sortir. Adapté en série par OCS, je suis bien curieuse, comment étire-t-on à deux saisons un bouquin de 454 pages ?

“Mrs Lipmann: Look, I’d rather not say anything further. We deserve to be left in peace. A parent is dead. The entire school community is grieving. 

Gabrielle: Hmmm, I wouldn’t say the entire school community is grieving. That might be a stretch.”

le secret du mari / the husband's secret

Entre Dos Aguas, Paco de Lucia

Anna Valenn, Le Blog

She always pretended to herself that she didn’t let Lauren help because she was trying to be the perfect mother-in-law, but really, when you didn’t let a woman help, it was a way of keeping her at a distance, of letting her know that she wasn’t family, of saying, ‘I don’t like you enough to let you into my kitchen.’

The Husband's Secret / Le Secret du mari, Liane Moriarty traduit par Béatrice Taupeau pour les éditons Albin Michel ; en Livre de Poche - On ne s'ennuie pas à lire Le Secret du mari de l'australienne Liane Moriarty. Ça se lit comme on regarde une (bonne) série américaine (efficace) sur le thème du couple et de la famille,  il se passe tout le temps quelque chose.

Maybe Mum was right, she thought hazily. It’s all about our egos. She felt she was on the edge of understanding something important. They could fall in love with fresh new people, or they could have the courage and humility to tear off some essential layer of themselves and reveal to each other a whole new level of ‘otherness’, a level far beyond what sort of music they liked. It seemed to her everyone had too much self-protective pride to truly strip off down to their souls in front of their long-term partners. It was easier to pretend there was nothing more to know, to fall into an easygoing companionship. It was almost embarrassing to be truly intimate with your spouse; because how could you watch someone floss one minute, and the next minute share your deepest passion or tritest of fears? It was almost easier to talk about that sort of thing before you’d shared a bathroom and a bank account and argued over the packing of the dishwasher.