part 5 of actually picking up the books i own on my bookshelf (technically a reread, but i remembered 1% of it, so it counts)
you either die early or live long enough to become the villain. dying in this context is being hated upon the first read, and becoming a villain is disappointing upon the reread. the latter, unfortunately, counts here. i bought and read it during the first year of college, and all i remembered is that i enjoyed every second of it and that the missing perspective confused me. ask me about the plot? god knows. vibes. then, a few months ago, i saw that a tv show adaptation is coming in 2026, and i had to reread it. maybe i shouldn't have if i wanted to keep idolizing it. meh
you can't (and you don't even need to) write a large plot summary because the bulk of the book is just the waddling through life of these three stockholm students with vastly different backgrounds and complex (mis)understandings of themselves and each other. the story of august,thora and hugo is divided into three time periods during and surrounding their codependent college relationship and its collapse because every single one of them is a coward with communication skills of a rock, but more on that later. the most enjoyable part of reading this one was the prose. hedman, and kira josefsson (her translator), deserve all the praise because the writing style was a joy to read. she has this specific skill of capturing the moment, the atmosphere, through short sentences and offhand details. everyone who speaks about the nostalgic feel of the book is completely right. every single interaction reads like a summary of a long-gone moment that you can only relive through your imperfect memory and grieve its inherent imperfect nature. the book is like a collection of vignettes of their lives; we jump from one perspective to another, from north to south europe and from dingy apartments to opulent houses, but the melancholia and nostalgia never leave. 100/10 for the writing.
i've already mentioned (mis)understanding in this review as a major plot point. i'll go further now and say it's the most important plot point; what moves the book is the process of self-discovery and translation. not translation in the general sense, as in "here's a book in croatian and i want you to translate it to swedish." the translation here is the process of understanding: understanding yourself, others, yourself in the eyes of others, and then attempting to communicate those findings to yourself and others. to me, the whole trio (or the parts of it we do know) fail at the majority of this. that failure made for the best part of it all. the prose and theme collaborate to paint a picture of educated people in their twenties, lost and confused. you see them trying to communicate, to cross that bridge and repair the damage, but the silence is stronger in the end, and you can only be frustrated as the conversation is nipped in the bud and the scene finished, the translation failed. i won't deny that the constant push and pull isn't satisfying to everyone. some just want the characters to sit down and solve it all, but if you can manage to tune into that cycle, it becomes interesting.
the problem i reach now is the question of perspective, better said, focalisation. the book is called the trio, and the apparent main characters are a trio: hugo, thora and august. and yet, there are only two focalizers; the story is told through the interchanging voices of thora and hugo, while all we know about august is the tiny bits we get from their narration. he is like a mystical creature forgotten by the narrative, and everything suffers because of it. i am aware that we can explain this narrative choice simply as just another way of hammering in the translation theme; august is not given a voice, and we can only trust the information given by others to try and understand him. the thing is, others don't even know him well. the main example of that is the fact that hugo, one of his closest friends, doesn't know he's struggling with his mental health. what we do know about him is a series of idealized pictures. in other words, lies. THAT can be genius, but, personally, here it didn't manage to be it. trio reads like a duo and their occasional companion. the sidelining of august wouldn't be a problem if the book felt egalitarian in its description of their relationships. ok, let's accept the aforementioned explanation; he's the voiceless link. ok. then shift the focus from hugo-thora to august-hugo-thora and weave in more moments of him being pushed aside. either that, or just do three focalisers and lose the voiceless moment. either would've been more satisfying than this mess that reads like a drama about thora and hugo and their therapist, august. it bothered me the first time i read it, and now it bothers me even more.
another thing, this one purely personal. the political side of this is shallower than a street puddle. again, it does fit in the narrative, i'll give it that. they're all obsessed with each other and politics feels just like a game that they won't and don't need to play, especially the ultra-rich thora, but but but...it makes for an unsatisfying read. maybe i am shooting myself in the foot here. maybe it's just another situation where the conversation ends because of their inability to take it forward. maybe i'm criticizing the very same thing i applauded before. maybe. i'll forgive half of it, bt the other half ill hold guilty. thora is the most interesting here; the heir of a wealthy family who's trying to set herself up in life alone while barely acknowledging the privilege she lives in. those brief moments when she touches upon it were one of the bright spots of the whole work. if only they weren't so far and few, mixed between silly mentions of politics. the students are playing at life and playing at serious business. the points do connect, but it was just dealt with in an unsatisfying way to me.
everything above won't stop me from recommending it, because i do think that people can and do find beauty in it, myself included. i only wish certain things had turned out differently, but at the end of it all, the most interesting books are the ones you can both criticise and admire in the same breath.