The Elements Review: Interwoven Narratives of Suffering

Twelve-year-old Freya is visiting her self-absorbed mother in Cornwall when she encounters teenage twins. "The only thing better than being aware of a secret," they tell her, "is having one of your own." In the days that ensue, they violate her, then inter her while living, blend of nervousness and annoyance darting across their faces as they finally release her from her temporary coffin.

This might have stood as the disturbing main event of a novel, but it's merely a single of numerous horrific events in The Elements, which gathers four novelettes – issued separately between 2023 and 2025 – in which characters negotiate historical pain and try to discover peace in the present moment.

Disputed Context and Subject Exploration

The book's release has been overshadowed by the addition of Earth, the subsequent novella, on the candidate list for a prominent LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, most other nominees dropped out in objection at the author's debated views – and this year's prize has now been cancelled.

Conversation of LGBTQ+ matters is missing from The Elements, although the author explores plenty of major issues. Homophobia, the effect of mainstream and online outlets, family disregard and assault are all investigated.

Four Narratives of Trauma

  • In Water, a mourning woman named Willow moves to a remote Irish island after her husband is imprisoned for horrific crimes.
  • In Earth, Evan is a footballer on trial as an accomplice to rape.
  • In Fire, the adult Freya balances retaliation with her work as a doctor.
  • In Air, a parent journeys to a memorial service with his young son, and wonders how much to disclose about his family's background.
Suffering is piled on pain as wounded survivors seem destined to meet each other continuously for forever

Linked Narratives

Links proliferate. We originally see Evan as a boy trying to flee the island of Water. His trial's panel 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. Secondary characters from one narrative return in houses, taverns or judicial venues in another.

These plot threads may sound complicated, but the author is skilled at how to propel a narrative – his prior acclaimed Holocaust drama has sold many copies, and he has been converted into dozens languages. His direct prose shines with thriller-ish hooks: "in the end, a doctor in the burns unit should understand more than to experiment with fire"; "the first thing I do when I reach the island is modify my name".

Character Portrayal and Storytelling Strength

Characters are drawn in succinct, effective lines: the empathetic Nigerian priest, the troubled pub landlord, the daughter at conflict with her mother. Some scenes echo with sad power or perceptive humour: a boy is punched by his father after wetting himself at a football match; a prejudiced island mother and her Dublin-raised neighbour trade jabs over cups of watery tea.

The author's ability of bringing you fully into each narrative gives the reappearance of a character or plot strand from an prior story a genuine excitement, for the first few times at least. Yet the collective effect of it all is dulling, and at times almost comic: trauma is piled on trauma, accident on accident in a grim farce in which wounded survivors seem destined to encounter each other repeatedly for forever.

Conceptual Depth and Concluding Assessment

If this sounds different from life and resembling uncertainty, that is part of the author's point. These wounded people are weighed down by the crimes they have experienced, stuck in cycles of thought and behavior that churn and spiral and may in turn hurt others. The author has talked about the impact of his individual experiences of mistreatment and he portrays with sympathy the way his ensemble traverse this dangerous landscape, extending for treatments – isolation, cold ocean swims, forgiveness or invigorating honesty – that might provide clarity.

The book's "fundamental" concept isn't particularly informative, while the quick pace means the exploration of sexual politics or digital platforms is mostly surface-level. But while The Elements is a imperfect work, it's also a entirely readable, trauma-oriented epic: a valued riposte to the usual preoccupation on authorities and offenders. The author shows how suffering can run through lives and generations, and how duration and tenderness can silence its echoes.

Angela Smith
Angela Smith

An avid skier and travel writer with over a decade of experience exploring Italy's best winter sports destinations.