John Boyne's Latest Review: Interwoven Narratives of Suffering
Twelve-year-old Freya spends time with her preoccupied mother in Cornwall when she encounters 14-year-old twins. "Nothing better than knowing a secret," they tell her, "comes from possessing one of your own." In the time that follow, they violate her, then inter her while living, combination of anxiety and annoyance passing across their faces as they ultimately free her from her makeshift coffin.
This may have functioned as the jarring focal point of a novel, but it's only one of many horrific events in The Elements, which collects four short novels – published separately between 2023 and 2025 – in which characters confront previous suffering and try to achieve peace in the present moment.
Disputed Context and Subject Exploration
The book's issuance has been marred by the inclusion of Earth, the second novella, on the candidate list for a prominent LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, most other nominees pulled out in dissent at the author's controversial views – and this year's prize has now been terminated.
Debate of gender identity issues is not present from The Elements, although the author addresses plenty of major issues. LGBTQ+ discrimination, the influence of traditional and social media, family disregard and assault are all investigated.
Multiple Narratives of Trauma
- In Water, a mourning woman named Willow transfers to a isolated Irish island after her husband is imprisoned for horrific crimes.
- In Earth, Evan is a athlete on court case as an participant to rape.
- In Fire, the adult Freya balances retaliation with her work as a medical professional.
- In Air, a father flies to a memorial service with his young son, and considers how much to disclose about his family's history.
Suffering is accumulated upon suffering as hurt survivors seem fated to encounter each other continuously for all time
Linked Accounts
Connections multiply. 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. Minor characters from one story return in houses, pubs or judicial venues in another.
These narrative elements may sound complicated, but the author is skilled at how to drive a narrative – his prior successful Holocaust drama has sold numerous units, and he has been rendered into dozens languages. His businesslike prose shines with gripping hooks: "in the end, a doctor in the burns unit should know better than to experiment with fire"; "the first thing I do when I arrive on the island is change my name".
Personality Development and Narrative Strength
Characters are drawn in brief, powerful lines: the caring Nigerian priest, the troubled pub landlord, the daughter at conflict with her mother. Some scenes ring with melancholy power or perceptive humour: a boy is punched by his father after urinating at a football match; a biased island mother and her Dublin-raised neighbour exchange insults over cups of diluted tea.
The author's talent of transporting you fully into each narrative gives the return of a character or plot strand from an previous story a real frisson, for the opening times at least. Yet the collective effect of it all is dulling, and at times almost comic: suffering is accumulated upon suffering, chance on coincidence in a grim farce in which hurt survivors seem destined to meet each other continuously for forever.
Thematic Complexity and Final Assessment
If this sounds different from life and closer to purgatory, that is element of the author's message. These damaged people are oppressed by the crimes they have suffered, stuck in cycles of thought and behavior that stir and spiral and may in turn harm others. The author has discussed about the effect of his individual experiences of harm and he depicts with understanding the way his cast negotiate this perilous landscape, striving for treatments – isolation, frigid water immersion, forgiveness or refreshing honesty – that might let light in.
The book's "elemental" framing isn't terribly informative, while the brisk pace means the exploration of gender dynamics or digital platforms is mainly shallow. But while The Elements is a defective work, it's also a completely accessible, survivor-centered saga: a appreciated riposte to the typical obsession on detectives and offenders. The author illustrates how pain can run through lives and generations, and how duration and compassion can silence its echoes.