ð Share this article The Elements Review: Interconnected Narratives of Pain Twelve-year-old Freya is visiting her preoccupied mother in Cornwall when she encounters 14-year-old twins. "Nothing better than being aware of a secret," they inform her, "comes from possessing one of your own." In the weeks that ensue, they will rape her, then entomb her breathing, a mix of unease and frustration flitting across their faces as they eventually release her from her improvised coffin. This could have served as the jarring centrepiece of a novel, but it's just one of multiple horrific events in The Elements, which assembles four novellas â published separately between 2023 and 2025 â in which characters navigate previous suffering and try to achieve peace in the current moment. Controversial Context and Subject Exploration The book's publication has been marred by the presence of Earth, the second novella, on the longlist for a prominent LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, nearly all other nominees dropped out in dissent at the author's controversial views â and this year's prize has now been terminated. Debate of LGBTQ+ matters is not present from The Elements, although the author explores plenty of significant issues. Anti-gay prejudice, the effect of mainstream and online outlets, caregiver abandonment and assault are all explored. Distinct Accounts of Suffering In Water, a mourning woman named Willow transfers to a remote Irish island after her husband is imprisoned for awful crimes. In Earth, Evan is a athlete on legal proceedings as an accomplice to rape. In Fire, the adult Freya juggles retaliation with her work as a surgeon. In Air, a dad flies to a memorial service with his young son, and considers how much to divulge about his family's past. Suffering is layered with pain as wounded survivors seem fated to meet each other again and again for all time Linked Stories Links multiply. We originally see Evan as a boy trying to leave the island of Water. His trial's panel contains the Freya who reappears in Fire. Aaron, the father from Air, collaborates with Freya and has a child with Willow's daughter. Supporting characters from one account resurface in cottages, pubs or legal settings in another. These storylines may sound complex, but the author knows how to power a narrative â his prior acclaimed Holocaust drama has sold numerous units, and he has been rendered into dozens languages. His straightforward prose shines with suspenseful hooks: "after all, a doctor in the burns unit should understand more than to experiment with fire"; "the primary step I do when I reach the island is change my name". Personality Portrayal and Narrative Strength Characters are sketched in succinct, impactful lines: the empathetic Nigerian priest, the troubled pub landlord, the daughter at conflict with her mother. Some scenes resonate with sad power or observational humour: a boy is struck by his father after urinating at a football match; a prejudiced island mother and her Dublin-raised neighbour exchange jabs over cups of watery tea. The author's knack of transporting you fully into each narrative gives the return of a character or plot strand from an prior story a genuine thrill, for the first few times at least. Yet the collective effect of it all is numbing, and at times almost comic: trauma is layered with suffering, accident on accident in a dark farce in which hurt survivors seem doomed to bump into each other again and again for forever. Thematic Complexity and Final Assessment If this sounds not exactly life and resembling uncertainty, that is part of the author's message. These wounded people are oppressed by the crimes they have suffered, stuck in routines of thought and behavior that stir and descend and may in turn harm others. The author has spoken about the influence of his individual experiences of abuse and he depicts with compassion the way his ensemble traverse this perilous landscape, striving for treatments â seclusion, cold ocean swims, forgiveness or invigorating honesty â that might provide clarity. The book's "fundamental" structure isn't particularly informative, while the quick pace means the examination of social issues or social media is mostly shallow. But while The Elements is a defective work, it's also a completely readable, victim-focused epic: a valued response to the common fixation on detectives and perpetrators. The author demonstrates how pain can affect lives and generations, and how years and care can quieten its echoes.