A New Collection Review: Linked Narratives of Suffering
Young Freya is visiting her distracted mother in Cornwall when she encounters 14-year-old twins. "The only thing better than being aware of a secret," they tell her, "is having one of your own." In the time that ensue, they sexually assault her, then entomb her breathing, blend of nervousness and irritation flitting across their faces as they ultimately release her from her temporary 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 short novels – released distinctly between 2023 and 2025 – in which characters confront historical pain and try to find peace in the contemporary moment.
Debated Context and Thematic Exploration
The book's issuance has been clouded by the inclusion of Earth, the subsequent novella, on the candidate list for a notable LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, most other nominees pulled out in dissent 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 addresses plenty of big issues. LGBTQ+ discrimination, the effect of traditional and social media, parental neglect and abuse are all investigated.
Multiple Narratives of Trauma
- In Water, a mourning woman named Willow moves to a isolated Irish island after her husband is imprisoned for terrible crimes.
- In Earth, Evan is a soccer player on court case as an accomplice to rape.
- In Fire, the adult Freya juggles retaliation with her work as a medical professional.
- In Air, a dad flies to a burial with his adolescent son, and considers how much to reveal about his family's past.
Trauma is layered with pain as damaged survivors seem fated to bump into each other repeatedly for eternity
Linked Narratives
Links proliferate. We first meet Evan as a boy trying to leave the island of Water. His trial's jury contains the Freya who returns in Fire. Aaron, the father from Air, works with Freya and has a child with Willow's daughter. Supporting characters from one account resurface in cottages, bars or legal settings in another.
These narrative elements may sound complicated, but the author is skilled at how to power a narrative – his earlier successful Holocaust drama has sold numerous units, and he has been translated into numerous languages. His businesslike prose sparkles with suspenseful hooks: "in the end, a doctor in the burns unit should understand more than to toy with fire"; "the first thing I do when I reach the island is modify my name".
Character Development and Storytelling Power
Characters are portrayed in concise, powerful lines: the caring Nigerian priest, the troubled pub landlord, the daughter at conflict with her mother. Some scenes ring with melancholy power or insightful humour: a boy is hit by his father after having an accident at a football match; a narrow-minded island mother and her Dublin-raised neighbour exchange insults over cups of weak tea.
The author's knack of transporting you fully into each narrative gives the reappearance of a character or plot strand from an previous story a genuine thrill, for the first few times at least. Yet the collective effect of it all is dulling, and at times practically comic: pain is accumulated upon suffering, accident on accident in a dark farce in which damaged survivors seem destined to encounter each other continuously for eternity.
Conceptual Complexity and Final Assessment
If this sounds not exactly life and closer to limbo, that is part of the author's point. These damaged people are weighed down by the crimes they have suffered, trapped in routines of thought and behavior that churn and plunge and may in turn harm others. The author has spoken about the impact of his individual experiences of abuse and he portrays with sympathy the way his cast navigate this dangerous landscape, extending for treatments – solitude, frigid water immersion, resolution or refreshing honesty – that might bring illumination.
The book's "elemental" framing isn't particularly educational, while the brisk pace means the examination of social issues or online networks is primarily shallow. But while The Elements is a imperfect work, it's also a entirely engaging, survivor-centered epic: a welcome riposte to the usual obsession on detectives and perpetrators. The author shows how trauma can run through lives and generations, and how duration and tenderness can silence its echoes.