Cleary family begins to look like dying off, despite there being some dozen siblings (Irish Catholic, you may recall). All the hopes for the future are pinned on the offspring of the Point Of The Story, who have become, in their turn, the Points. And this is where the plot summary and I leave you, because story endings are sacrosanct, unless the book is rubbish.
And this one is GREAT. It is exactly as lurid and tawdry as appeals to my tastes, and while one suspects that it may be better-written Philippa Gregory (minus her twin peaks of Tudory and incest), one doesn’t care. (One sort of cares when The Point Of The Story’s crying fits are spelled out – ‘Fruh-Fruh-Frank, they too-too-took my doll’ – because that is almost never not irritating, but The Point Of The Story outgrows crying fits quickly and one forgives.)
It’s very Gone With the Wind, with its indomitable female-types and its silent, shy men-types and its secretly illegitimate children (or did that only happen in Scarlett? THAT book was trashy) and its 700 pages. War! Droughts and subsequent hungry years! Ill-advised marriage for spite!
Walking the fine line between salacious drama and wtf-ery?
Oh Thorn Birds, of course you are a TV mini-series. I would expect no less.