John Boyne's Latest Review: Interwoven Stories of Pain

Young Freya is visiting her self-absorbed mother in Cornwall when she comes across 14-year-old twins. "The only thing better than being aware of a secret," they inform her, "comes from possessing one of your own." In the weeks that follow, they sexually assault her, then bury her alive, blend of unease and annoyance darting across their faces as they ultimately free her from her improvised coffin.

This may have functioned as the shocking focal point of a novel, but it's merely a single of multiple awful events in The Elements, which collects four novellas – issued distinctly between 2023 and 2025 – in which characters negotiate previous suffering and try to find peace in the current moment.

Controversial Context and Thematic Exploration

The book's issuance has been marred by the inclusion of Earth, the subsequent novella, on the longlist for a prominent LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, nearly all other candidates dropped out in objection at the author's debated views – and this year's prize has now been called off.

Conversation of gender identity issues is absent from The Elements, although the author explores plenty of major issues. Anti-gay prejudice, the impact of mainstream and online outlets, parental neglect and sexual violence are all examined.

Distinct Narratives of Suffering

• In Water, a grieving woman named Willow relocates to a secluded Irish island after her husband is jailed for awful crimes.
• In Earth, Evan is a soccer player on court case as an accessory to rape.
• In Fire, the mature Freya manages retaliation with her work as a doctor.
• In Air, a father journeys to a funeral with his adolescent son, and ponders how much to disclose about his family's background.

Trauma is accumulated upon pain as wounded survivors seem destined to encounter each other again and again for forever

Linked Stories

Relationships abound. We originally see Evan as a boy trying to flee the island of Water. His trial's jury contains the Freya who shows up again in Fire. Aaron, the father from Air, partners with Freya and has a child with Willow's daughter. Minor characters from one account return in cottages, pubs or judicial venues in another.

These storylines may sound tangled, but the author understands how to drive a narrative – his previous successful Holocaust drama has sold millions, and he has been translated into numerous languages. His direct prose bristles with gripping hooks: "after all, a doctor in the burns unit should understand more than to toy with fire"; "the primary step I do when I reach the island is alter my name".

Personality Portrayal and Narrative Strength

Characters are portrayed in succinct, powerful lines: the empathetic Nigerian priest, the troubled pub landlord, the daughter at conflict with her mother. Some scenes echo with tragic power or insightful humour: a boy is struck by his father after urinating at a football match; a prejudiced island mother and her Dublin-raised neighbour exchange insults over cups of diluted tea.

The author's knack of transporting you completely into each narrative gives the return of a character or plot strand from an earlier story a real thrill, for the opening times at least. Yet the aggregate effect of it all is desensitizing, and at times almost comic: suffering is layered with pain, chance on coincidence in a grim farce in which wounded survivors seem fated to meet each other again and again for eternity.

Conceptual Complexity and Concluding Assessment

If this sounds not exactly life and resembling uncertainty, that is part of the author's point. These damaged people are oppressed by the crimes they have endured, trapped in routines of thought and behavior that agitate and descend and may in turn harm others. The author has spoken about the influence of his personal experiences of abuse and he portrays with understanding the way his cast negotiate this dangerous landscape, extending for treatments – isolation, frigid water immersion, reconciliation or bracing honesty – that might provide clarity.

The book's "elemental" framing isn't extremely informative, while the rapid pace means the examination of sexual politics or social media is primarily surface-level. But while The Elements is a imperfect work, it's also a entirely accessible, victim-focused chronicle: a welcome response to the common fixation on detectives and criminals. The author demonstrates how pain can run through lives and generations, and how years and tenderness can soften its reverberations.