Book Review: Trois by Valérie Perrin
When I stumbled upon Valérie Perrin’s Trois, it felt like a gentle nudge from the universe—an invitation to delve into the complexities of friendship and the labyrinth of human emotions. Having adored her previous work, Fresh Water for Flowers, I found myself intrigued by how this new offering would navigate the tales of acceptance and betrayal amidst the tides of time. Let me tell you, Trois does not disappoint.
At its heart, Trois chronicles the lives of three friends—Nina, Adrien, and Étienne—unraveling their journey from a carefree childhood to the tumult of young adulthood. The narrative is woven with rich threads of emotions, secrets, and a tragic disappearance that looms ominously in the background. The author’s ability to blend past and present keeps you deeply engaged, almost as if you’re privy to the thoughts of their lives unraveling—each revelation layered like a finely baked biscuit, with plenty of nooks for reflection.
Perrin strikes a unique balance throughout the novel. We get emotionally invested in these characters yet are continually confronted with the idea that we know very little about them. This clever narrative technique mirrors the intricacies of real-life friendships. How often do we discover hidden layers in our closest friends, even those we’ve shared years with? One quote that resonated deeply was, “We think we know everything about our friends, when really we know nothing.” This encapsulates the essence of Trois so poignantly, reflecting both vulnerability and the inevitable questioning of intimacy.
The book’s pacing is leisurely, allowing us to savor each character’s development, which only heightens the impact of their eventual betrayals. I appreciated how time in the narrative flows like a river, sometimes gentle, sometimes torrential. It mirrors our own lives—familiar yet unpredictable. The tragic backdrop of Clotilde’s disappearance serves as both a pivotal plot device and a haunting reminder of how fragile these friendships can be. As I flipped through the pages, I found myself questioning: who can we truly trust?
Moreover, the writing style combines lyrical beauty with raw honesty. Hildegarde Serle’s translation captures the nuances of Perrin’s prose, which effortlessly shifts between moments of levity and the sobering realities of abusive relationships, parental neglect, and the lingering shadows of trauma. One poignant observation is how the characters’ families operate as a web of support, echoing my own childhood experiences where friends’ parents became like second moms and dads.
However, while I savored the book’s rich narrative, I ultimately found its conclusion a tad too neatly tied up for my taste. I tend to prefer endings that leave a lingering ache, making me ponder long after the last page. In contrast, Trois wraps its emotional threads in a way that felt almost too convenient, though it does offer a hopeful resolution that might resonate deeply with many readers.
If you’re looking for a book that immerses you in the messy, beautiful complexities of friendship, Trois is a compelling choice. It captures your heart and leaves you reflecting on your own connections with others. With its rich themes and relatable characters, this is a story that will speak to anyone who has navigated the delightful yet often tumultuous waters of youth.
In short, Trois is a heartfelt exploration of the friendships that shape us and the experiences we share. So grab a cozy blanket and a quiet evening—this is a book you’ll want to savor.
Rating: 3.5/5
“Thank goodness that life, occasionally, perseveres.” Let’s hold onto that thought.
