🔗 Share this article John Boyne's Latest Review: Interwoven Narratives of Suffering Young Freya spends time with her preoccupied mother in Cornwall when she comes across 14-year-old twins. "The only thing better than being aware of a secret," they inform her, "is having one of your own." In the time that follow, they will rape her, then entomb her breathing, a mix of unease and frustration darting across their faces as they ultimately free her from her improvised coffin. This may have functioned as the shocking centrepiece of a novel, but it's merely a single of many terrible events in The Elements, which assembles four novellas – issued separately between 2023 and 2025 – in which characters confront historical pain and try to find peace in the contemporary moment. Controversial Context and Subject Exploration The book's publication has been marred by the addition of Earth, the subsequent novella, on the preliminary list for a significant LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, most other contenders withdrew in objection at the author's debated views – and this year's prize has now been terminated. Debate of trans rights is absent from The Elements, although the author touches on plenty of major issues. Anti-gay prejudice, the influence of conventional and digital platforms, parental neglect and assault are all examined. Distinct Stories of Trauma In Water, a mourning woman named Willow moves to a remote Irish island after her husband is jailed for terrible crimes. In Earth, Evan is a footballer on trial as an participant to rape. In Fire, the grown-up Freya balances vengeance with her work as a medical professional. In Air, a father flies to a memorial service with his adolescent son, and wonders how much to reveal about his family's history. Trauma is accumulated upon suffering as wounded survivors seem doomed to bump into each other continuously for forever Interconnected Accounts Relationships multiply. We initially encounter Evan as a boy trying to flee the island of Water. His trial's jury contains the Freya who returns in Fire. Aaron, the father from Air, collaborates with Freya and has a child with Willow's daughter. Minor characters from one account return in homes, bars or courtrooms in another. These plot threads may sound complex, but the author knows how to power a narrative – his earlier successful Holocaust drama has sold millions, and he has been converted into dozens languages. His businesslike prose shines with suspenseful hooks: "in the end, a doctor in the burns unit should be wiser than to toy with fire"; "the primary step I do when I reach the island is modify my name". Character Portrayal and Narrative Strength Characters are drawn in brief, impactful lines: the caring Nigerian priest, the troubled pub landlord, the daughter at conflict with her mother. Some scenes echo with tragic power or observational humour: a boy is punched by his father after wetting himself at a football match; a biased island mother and her Dublin-raised neighbour swap barbs over cups of diluted tea. The author's knack of bringing you completely into each narrative gives the comeback of a character or plot strand from an earlier story a real excitement, for the first few times at least. Yet the aggregate effect of it all is desensitizing, and at times nearly comic: suffering is piled on suffering, coincidence on coincidence in a bleak farce in which hurt survivors seem destined to bump into each other again and again for all time. Thematic Complexity and Concluding Assessment If this sounds less like life and closer to limbo, that is element of the author's message. These wounded people are weighed down by the crimes they have suffered, stuck in patterns of thought and behavior that churn and descend and may in turn harm others. The author has talked about the influence of his personal experiences of abuse and he describes with understanding the way his ensemble negotiate this dangerous landscape, extending for remedies – solitude, icy sea dips, resolution or refreshing honesty – that might provide clarity. The book's "elemental" framing isn't particularly informative, while the brisk pace means the discussion of sexual politics or digital platforms is primarily superficial. But while The Elements is a flawed work, it's also a thoroughly engaging, survivor-centered chronicle: a welcome response to the typical obsession on authorities and offenders. The author illustrates how pain can run through lives and generations, and how time and care can silence its aftereffects.