The Trio by Johanna Hedman

The Trio by Johanna Hedman, translated by Kira Josefsson

‘I tried to communicate this insight but I failed - it fell flat from my mouth. I began to wonder if the only way to meaningfully communicate with others was through writing.’

Stockholm itself is a central character in this novel, its winding streets and wide mouthed rivers offering a parallel between the complex paths we tread in our relationships as well as providing the backdrop for this exploration on the complicated dynamics of friendship and love. And not just any love - love in your early twenties i.e. the trenches. Francesca Reece compares Hedman to Rooney and the comparison has a strong basis as the novel traverses the complex nuances of connection and infatuation, whilst also raising questions on political awareness, with conversations facilitated around privilege morality and wealth holding a central place in this novel. The conversations themselves offer no groundbreaking insights, as I think is a similar feature of Rooney’s writing, but still hold significance in their authenticity - they are exactly the conversations that would be taking place outside of packed pubs and lecture halls. Disillusionment was a huge theme in this novel for me, with the characters confronting the reality of the adult world as they begin to move into the realms of post-education. The character of Hugo in particular grapples with his morals in the astute arms of the-rest-of-your-life, ‘I didn’t tell him I found it difficult to imagine a life after university. Whenever I tried to brainstorm future scenarios, all I could feel was a listlessness I figured I’d need to somehow tame by spending long days at some office. This was of course not an ambition I could highlight in a personal letter. I found it increasingly difficult to shake the suspicion that work was all about pretending to care about pointless stuff, and that success hinged on  your ability to trick even yourself.’ The death of ambition and passion is something alluded to throughout the inner monologues of our two narrators, Hugo and Thora, with the text alternating between their perspectives. Thora is a beautifully captured character, cold and distant yet clinging to affection from August and, in turn, Hugo. As the title suggests, we find ourselves embroiled in a love-triangle of sorts, although the complexity of these characters lends itself to a narrative that doesn’t feel tired and overdone. Every interaction and gesture is elegantly observed and articulated, with side glances and silences holding as much meaning in this piece of literature as they do in real life. My only substantial issue with the book is its three part structure, which felt unnecessary and brought the believability of the story into question, with us meeting ‘the trio’ in their thirties, with seemingly little character development over the course of a whole decade. It felt like an attempt to transport the heady atmosphere of your early twenties fifteen years down the line, which felt unrealistic and uncharacteristic for the people we had just spent three hundred pages with.