John Boyne's Latest Review: Interwoven Tales of Pain
Twelve-year-old Freya stays 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 advise her, "is having one of your own." In the time that ensue, they violate her, then inter her while living, a mix of nervousness and frustration passing across their faces as they eventually release her from her improvised coffin.
This might have stood as the disturbing focal point of a novel, but it's merely a single of multiple horrific events in The Elements, which assembles four novelettes – published distinctly between 2023 and 2025 – in which characters negotiate past trauma and try to find peace in the current moment.
Debated Context and Subject Exploration
The book's release has been overshadowed by the addition of Earth, the second novella, on the longlist for a significant LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, nearly all other candidates dropped out in protest at the author's debated views – and this year's prize has now been terminated.
Discussion of gender identity issues is missing from The Elements, although the author touches on plenty of big issues. Homophobia, the impact of conventional and digital platforms, caregiver abandonment and assault are all examined.
Distinct Accounts of Pain
- In Water, a grieving woman named Willow transfers to a isolated Irish island after her husband is imprisoned for horrific crimes.
- In Earth, Evan is a footballer on trial as an accessory to rape.
- In Fire, the adult Freya balances revenge with her work as a surgeon.
- In Air, a father journeys to a burial with his adolescent son, and ponders how much to disclose about his family's background.
Pain is piled on suffering as wounded survivors seem fated to bump into each other again and again for all time
Interconnected Accounts
Connections proliferate. We first meet Evan as a boy trying to leave the island of Water. His trial's group contains the Freya who returns in Fire. Aaron, the father from Air, collaborates with Freya and has a child with Willow's daughter. Supporting characters from one account reappear in cottages, pubs or legal settings in another.
These plot threads may sound complicated, but the author is skilled at how to propel a narrative – his earlier successful Holocaust drama has sold numerous units, and he has been translated into numerous languages. His direct prose sparkles with suspenseful hooks: "after all, a doctor in the burns unit should understand more than to toy with fire"; "the initial action I do when I reach the island is modify my name".
Character Portrayal and Narrative Power
Characters are drawn in concise, effective lines: the compassionate Nigerian priest, the troubled pub landlord, the daughter at war 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 exchange barbs over cups of diluted tea.
The author's talent of carrying you fully into each narrative gives the return of a character or plot strand from an prior story a real excitement, for the first few times at least. Yet the aggregate effect of it all is dulling, and at times practically comic: suffering is piled on pain, chance on chance in a bleak farce in which wounded survivors seem destined to bump into each other repeatedly for forever.
Conceptual Complexity and Concluding Evaluation
If this sounds not exactly life and more like limbo, that is element of the author's thesis. These hurt people are burdened by the crimes they have suffered, trapped in routines of thought and behavior that churn and descend and may in turn damage others. The author has spoken about the influence of his personal experiences of mistreatment and he depicts with understanding the way his characters traverse this perilous landscape, striving for remedies – seclusion, cold ocean swims, reconciliation or bracing honesty – that might let light in.
The book's "basic" structure isn't particularly informative, while the brisk pace means the examination of sexual politics or social media is primarily superficial. But while The Elements is a imperfect work, it's also a entirely readable, survivor-centered chronicle: a appreciated rebuttal to the common obsession on investigators and offenders. The author illustrates how trauma can affect lives and generations, and how duration and care can soften its reverberations.