The Elements Review: Linked Stories of Suffering
Twelve-year-old Freya stays with her self-absorbed mother in Cornwall when she meets 14-year-old twins. "Nothing better than knowing a secret," they inform her, "is having one of your own." In the days that ensue, they sexually assault her, then entomb her breathing, a mix of nervousness and irritation flitting across their faces as they finally liberate her from her makeshift coffin.
This could have served as the shocking main event of a novel, but it's only one of multiple terrible events in The Elements, which gathers four short novels – published individually between 2023 and 2025 – in which characters negotiate 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 inclusion of Earth, the second novella, on the preliminary list for a prominent LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, the majority other contenders withdrew in objection at the author's controversial views – and this year's prize has now been called off.
Conversation of trans rights is not present from The Elements, although the author explores plenty of big issues. Homophobia, the influence of mainstream and online outlets, parental neglect and abuse are all examined.
Four Accounts of Suffering
- In Water, a mourning woman named Willow transfers to a remote Irish island after her husband is jailed for awful crimes.
- In Earth, Evan is a soccer player on court case as an accomplice to rape.
- In Fire, the grown-up Freya manages vengeance with her work as a surgeon.
- In Air, a father flies to a memorial service with his adolescent son, and considers how much to reveal about his family's background.
Suffering is layered with trauma as wounded survivors seem doomed to bump into each other repeatedly for eternity
Linked Accounts
Links abound. 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, works with Freya and has a child with Willow's daughter. Secondary characters from one story reappear in homes, pubs or courtrooms in another.
These storylines may sound complicated, but the author knows how to power a narrative – his previous successful Holocaust drama has sold many copies, and he has been rendered into many languages. His businesslike prose bristles with suspenseful hooks: "after all, a doctor in the burns unit should be wiser than to play with fire"; "the initial action I do when I come to 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 conflict with her mother. Some scenes ring with sad power or insightful humour: a boy is punched by his father after wetting himself at a football match; a prejudiced island mother and her Dublin-raised neighbour swap jabs over cups of weak tea.
The author's talent of carrying you wholeheartedly into each narrative gives the return of a character or plot strand from an prior story a genuine thrill, for the initial several times at least. Yet the collective effect of it all is dulling, and at times almost comic: suffering is accumulated upon trauma, chance on accident in a dark farce in which hurt survivors seem doomed to bump into each other repeatedly for eternity.
Thematic Complexity and Final Assessment
If this sounds less like life and closer to uncertainty, that is aspect of the author's thesis. These wounded people are weighed down by the crimes they have endured, stuck in routines of thought and behavior that churn and spiral and may in turn hurt others. The author has talked about the effect of his individual experiences of harm and he depicts with understanding the way his characters navigate this dangerous landscape, striving for treatments – isolation, cold ocean swims, resolution or bracing honesty – that might bring illumination.
The book's "fundamental" concept isn't extremely informative, while the quick pace means the examination of gender dynamics or online networks is mostly shallow. But while The Elements is a imperfect work, it's also a thoroughly accessible, trauma-oriented epic: a appreciated response to the common obsession on detectives and perpetrators. The author shows how pain can affect lives and generations, and how duration and compassion can silence its aftereffects.